"I tried, it must be damaged…" Another hit; he could feel the shield shiver, almost fail. "Dial the gate!"
They had to leave, and leave fast.
Without hesitation, Ford dialed home. Almost instantly the Stargate sprang to life, lights racing each other around its rim until they locked in place. There was a moment, a brief hesitation that seemed to hang forever in the void, and then the wormhole exploded out into space. Sheppard had half hoped that the two Wraith ships guarding the gate would be swallowed by the event horizon, but its blue-white fountain stopped a breath away from them; they obviously knew what they were doing. Instead of being consumed, the Wraith darts opened fire.
Sheppard returned the favor, unleashing another drone before breaking off his approach and cutting left. "Be ready to punch in your code on the next pass," he told Ford.
The lieutenant dragged the GDO out of his vest pocket. "What's the range on these things?"
Good question. Shame he didn't have an answer. "I don't know, I've never used one before!" He started another run at the gate, taking a pounding from the Wraith ships, but holding course. He had to get close enough for the damn thing to work… As he arced up and over the gate he yelled, "Enter your code, now!"
Ford stabbed at the device; he looked like he was saying a prayer.
Pulling back up, Sheppard came around again — this time for the final pass, through a hail of enemy fire. With an adrenaline-fuelled grin he glanced over his shoulder at their startled passengers. "Hang on!"
It was about to get interesting.
It was the quiet that felt wrong. Despite the low-level hum of conversation and machinery, Atlantis seemed too quiet. It was as if everyone were holding their breaths, waiting. From her ready room, Weir could see the Stargate, she could see Grodin in the control room, hunched over computers and talking softly to himself. She could see the soldiers guarding the gate, their eyes like hers drawn inexorably to its immovable presence.
It was possible, she knew, that it would never activate. That Sheppard and his team would never return. It was possible that their enemy might open the gate instead, that the scourge of the Ancients might return to take them. It was possible that-
A glyph on the gate suddenly lit up, then another. And another.
"Off-world activation!" Grodin yelled from the control room.
Weir was moving before he'd said the first word, barreling breathlessly into the control room and almost colliding with McKay as she yelled. "Activate the shield!"
A sheet of energy fizzed over the gate, flaring white as the wormhole engaged.
"Do we have an IDC?" Please let it be Sheppard. Please let it be them…
But Grodin shook his head. "Not yet."
"It'll take a few seconds for any signal to reach us." McKay pushed past her, hovering behind Grodin. "We just have to give them a few-" His finger stabbed at the screen. "Reading Lieutenant Ford's IDC!"
Yes! "Drop the shield!"
With an electronic hiss it was gone, leaving the blue shimmer of the Stargate naked before them. Weir held her breath, willing Sheppard to step through, or fly through, or-
A blast of weapons fire spat from the Stargate, exploding against the gate room wall with a deafening impact. "Holy-" She ducked behind the console, McKay at her side, looking extremely pale. He opened his mouth to speak, when another blast hit. Sparks flew, filling the air with ozone and smoke, and he dropped to the deck.
"Give them a few more seconds!" Weir yelled, in answer to his unasked questions. They were so close. So close! She wasn't going to slam the door on them now.
The target was locked, the watery surface of the open gate beckoning him home. There was no way Major John Sheppard was changing course. Enemy fire came from all over, the ship twisted and bucked, but he fought to hold course. Unlike piloting a helicopter, this effort was all mental. No stick to yank, no switches to flick. He was flying with nothing more than goddamn stubborn willpower.
It seemed to be working.
"We're going too fast!" Ford yelled, but his voice was distant.
"I know!" He vividly remembered O'Neill warning him that the velocity on entering the Stargate matched the velocity on exit.
The gate room was small, but this thing had to have good brakes. Right? But it was too late to worry, the gate was right there, the shields were failing and if they didn't leave now…
The wormhole had them, stripped them apart at lightning speed, flung them in every direction and once, and spat them out the other end. The gate room appeared in a blur, inertial dampeners cutting the breakneck deceleration as something grabbed them. Some kind of energy field that danced around them; the Ancient equivalent of the wires on a naval carrier.
Behind them the defense shield flared white once, twice, three times. Three Wraith darts that wouldn't bug anybody ever again. Then, like a breath exhaled in relief, the Stargate shut down. Sheppard glanced over at Ford, who was grinning with exhilaration, and they touched fists. It was the closest thing to a victory dance his exhausted mind and body could contemplate. Behind them, Teyla's people were staring around in awe, knocked sideways by the ride. He didn't blame them. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Atlantis," he said with a smile. "Please wait until the Puddle Jumper comes to a complete stop."
Ford snorted a quiet laugh at the lame joke, and Sheppard slumped back into his chair as the whine of the engines began to fade. It was quite possible that he was too tired to ever move again, and he wondered idly if they'd let him sleep right here…
They didn't, of course. He had to endure too many enthusiastic backslaps, a long debrief, and an even longer medical exam before someone — by that stage he was too tired to even care — pointed him in the direction of a small room and a bed. Collapsing, face down, on military-issue blankets, he didn't even bother to take off his boots. But sleep, so desperately desired, didn't come straightaway. His mind was too full. Or, perhaps it was his soul…
Sumner was gone, and Sheppard knew the Colonel's death would haunt him forever. He'd pulled the trigger. Maybe he'd had no choice, but he'd done it anyway. He'd pulled the trigger and the man was dead. An arrogant SOB he might have been, but somewhere he had a mother, or a father, a wife, or a child. Someone who'd never see him again, someone who would mourn him. It wasn't the first life Sheppard had taken, but it was the first friendly life he'd taken. The first human being who'd looked him in the eye and begged for death.
John Sheppard wasn't a praying man, but right then he prayed that he'd never see that look again. Not in anyone's eyes, not ever.
But there were other memories too. He'd seen Teyla shepherding her people away to rest and safety in Atlantis, seen the look of heartfelt thanks in her eyes as she'd smiled at him. He'd seen the kid, Jinto, racing down the stairs and into his father's arms. He'd seen the utter joy and relief in Halling's face, seen his tears of happiness.
It was a good end to a bad day. He knew there would be worse days to come, days that didn't end so well, but his future here was impossible to imagine and there was no point in trying. All he could tell himself was that he'd done the right thing.
And he had. He'd gone after his people, he'd brought most of them home, and those he hadn't saved he'd freed. Sumner was gone, but he'd gone on his own terms. It was enough. It was enough to let him sleep at night. And really, what more did a guy like him need but a fast ship, a galaxy to explore and a good night's sleep?
Life, he mused as he drifted off, was about to get interesting.
The party had been her idea. Her first act as leader of this base that hadn't involved putting people's lives in danger. They needed to bond, not just the expedition members but the Ethosians too — Teyla's people. Dr. Elizabeth Weir hadn't spent her entire career in international relations for nothing. She'd learned the importance of a good party in cementing friendships.