Rodney started a quick exploration of the room. He knew there had to be computer access and he knew he was going to have to find it and get into it quickly, or any chance of catching up to the others — assuming they’d gotten loose and were on their way to the gate — would be lost. He fumbled along the wall, cursing the dim light.
He worked his way around the carcass of the dragon, looking for anything that would add more light to the room. When he neared the racks of weapons, he almost laughed aloud. There was a control console tucked in beside the door, probably used for inventory of the weapons or diagnostics. The screen was lit and open. The dead dragon had prevented him from seeing it glowing in the semi-darkness. Whoever had last used it, they had no fear of anyone in this room accessing the system.
Rodney hurried over and sat down. The first thing he did was check the arena. If one of the others was out there, he knew he’d have to find a way to help them before he moved on. He noticed that it was getting warmer in the room. His brow was coated in sweat, and he felt his shirt matting to his back.
He tapped at the keys, found the video feed, and brought up the arena. He saw two large creatures that resembled very large wolves squaring off with a woman. Only it wasn’t exactly a woman. She had two heads, and at least four arms, two of which held spears. Her eyes flashed, and she was actually smiling.
“Well,” Rodney said. “Good luck to you then.”
He closed the screen and began digging into the computer system in search of the DHD control system. He needed to know if the others had already opened the gate; without his equipment or his laptop, he didn’t know how long he’d been out. He found what he was looking for, tapped in codes from memory, and found his way to the gate.
It had not been accessed from the Admah side in a very long time. He was either going to be early, on time, or the only one who made it to the gate. Next he tapped into the security systems and found video feeds into the various holding cells outside the arena. He didn’t know the number of the one they’d been kept in, so he flipped through them one at a time. Most were empty. In a few, warriors of various stripes awaited. Each time he came to one of the cells, he opened it. He didn’t know if it would do any of them any good, but he thought evening the odds with Saul and his followers certainly couldn’t hurt.
After only a few moments he had opened all the cells, but one stood conspicuously open before he reached it. He hoped that meant the others had made it out, but at the same time, it added urgency to his own plight. He had to get out of this room and soon. If they came in with whoever lost the current battle, he’d be discovered. He needed to get out and up to the gate before he ended up trapped and fried with the good citizens of Admah.
He accessed the map of the city, found the arena, and quickly located the chamber he was in. There were only two exits. One led into the arena, and the other was directly across from that door, making it directly behind him. Rodney thought for a moment. As soon as he opened it, he was going to be setting off alarms. That was almost a certainty. Whether, in the heat of their entertainment, anyone would be monitoring for such a breach of security, or would do anything if they saw it, was a different question altogether. In the end, he settled for unlocking the doorway so that when he was ready to access it, it would open.
He sat at the terminal a few moments longer. There was nothing more to be gained from it, but somehow he was reluctant to give up what might be his last access to a computer. It was difficult to turn away and rely on himself — his physical abilities, strength, and possibly his ability to fight, to win the day. He’d saved the day a thousand times, but he’d used his mind. This time it was going to be of little or no use, and it left him feeling naked.
Finally he pushed away from the console and stood up. He found himself facing the weapons rack, and there, directly in front of him, was the sword he’d seen Teyla use.
Teyla…
The sight of the weapon triggered a flood of pain, and he staggered under the weight of it. She was gone. Teyla was dead.
He hadn’t had a moment to think about it, the terror of his own battle blotting out everything else — his mind had simply shunted the horrible truth to one side while he fought for his life. But now he felt it — felt the dark edges of it, at least. When he got out of Admah — if he got out — he knew it was going to hit like a hammer blow.
Teyla was gone.
He swallowed hard against rising grief and blinked his watery eyes. Right now, he had to focus. Distraction meant death, and he hadn’t killed a dragon just to be flambéed alive instead. He returned his attention to the sword. Teyla’s sword. The blade was long, and he saw the symbols of the Ancients on the hilt and scabbard. Without being entirely sure why he did, he grabbed it and belted it around his waist. It was heavy, but somehow it felt good to have it there.
A sudden sound caught his attention and he froze. He looked around self-consciously, as if someone might have been watching him don the weapon, but there was no one to be seen. Then he heard the sound again. It was a groan of pain, and it came from somewhere on the far side of the dragon’s corpse.
“Great,” Rodney said. “Just great.”
He glanced at the door across the room. A few quick paces and he could access it, move into the passage beyond, and be on his way. He stared at it longingly, and then he turned toward the sound with a sigh.
“Who’s there?” he called. “Who is that?”
The sound grew louder, but no more coherent. Rodney drew the sword, found the controls that brought it to life, and stepped around the dragon. On the far side he saw the huge carcass of the first Woard, but the sound did not come from the creature. Stepping around its body, he found his answer.
Teyla lay pinned beneath the weight of the beast she’d slain. She was alive! They’d been dragged from the arena in just about the position they’d fallen, but by some miracle Teyla hadn’t been crushed.
“Teyla…” He kneeled and touched her shoulder, vision blurring with sudden relief and a wide grin tugging at his lips. “Teyla, wake up.”
Her eyes cleared and she stared up. “Rodney?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?”
Teyla stared down at where her right leg was pinned beneath the Woard. “I have been better.” She paused. “I cannot move, but with that creature on my leg I cannot tell how badly I am hurt. There is some pain.”
Rodney tried briefly to lift the Woard off of her leg, but there was no way. It didn’t move an inch. He stood and drew the sword.
“This is probably going to be messy,” he said, “but we don’t have a lot of time. Lie very still.”
Rodney brought the blade to life and Teyla stared.
“I wish it had done that for me.”
“You and me both,” Rodney said.
He laid the edge of the blade against the skin of the Woard and began slicing carefully. Bit by bit he cut it away from Teyla, dragging the flesh off her in bloody chunks.
“God,” Rodney said. “This thing is disgusting.”
“Try being trapped beneath it.”
“No thanks.”
Rodney made a last cut, sheathed the sword again, and reached down. He grabbed Teyla under her arms and pulled, dragging her a few feet away from the beast.
“Oh!” Teyla hissed.
Rodney stopped. “Sorry.”
Teyla clenched her jaw. “It is definitely broken.”
Rodney glanced again at the door.
“We have a very short time to get out of this room, down a long passageway, up several levels and out the front gates to the catch up with Sheppard. Once they open that gate and go through — and it closes — it can’t be opened again to the same location. Can you walk?”