Stargate Atlantis - Allies

[RogueRanger]

He's MIA quick call the cops

And Pookey, haven't seen you on Dad's captives in a while, you still reading it It's getting so great, and dad said that Stewypie will be.....nope not revealing

[Aragon101]

He's MIA quick call the cops

And Pookey, haven't seen you on Dad's captives in a while, you still reading it It's getting so great, and dad said that Stewypie will be.....nope not revealing

Well i'll be, you're still alive and here i thought you'd been sent off to war

[RogueRanger]

Well i'll be, you're still alive and here i thought you'd been sent off to war

Yeah they did Sammy, it's called STUDY your arse off

[Stewart5]

Well, fear not, i have not abandoned Allies.......but I have been neck deep in Study notes, and that kinda gets in the way of typing story.......next part soooooon....honest......

Me, kill Pookey....?

[pookey]

after the Three Degree's vid i thought it would be inevitable

[Stewart5]

No, not kill...........maim, torture and harrass, maybe.......0_o

[pookey]

business as usual then

[Stewart5]

Aye.....

[Stewart5]

Help from Beyond

Spoiler:

Ben struggled in the bed, and a gasp emitted from his lips, teeth clenched tight. He was unconscious now, his wound growing further and further. The growth could actually be watched visibly now, it was moving so fast. Ben was stripped to the waist, his well-built torso going grey across almost half its surface now. Black veins were starting to stand out. It reached up his neck from the wounded shoulder, and the skin was the same here, too.
“What is going on?” Anne asked sternly, yet still unable to hide the worry from her voice.
“The wound is far more progressed than I had thought,” Haleth replied calmly, still leaning over the human.
“You said it would be easy to heal!” Keller exclaimed.
“I was going on your words on how long he was injured, Lady, and I was judging by our abilities to resist the effects of the Cursed blades,” Haleth muttered back.
He had spread many strange tools and containers round himself, and was using bits and pieces from each. Lorelle diligently passed containers as asked, learning all she could. Anne, normally the image of composure and inner strength, couldn’t bring herself to do anything other than worry for her son.
As Haleth applied various gels, the speed of the infection seemed to slow markedly. But it didn’t stop.
Ben’s eyes shot wide open, but all that was there were wide, black orbs, staring outward.
“Ben!” Anne shouted, trying to push forward. Keller grabbed her in an embrace, partly comforting, partly to restrain her.
Haleth shook his head, standing.
“I am at the limit. The wound was worse than we had feared. You,” he pointed at Keller. “Go and fetch Timral.”
Keller, not used to being told what to do in her own Infirmary, stood her ground.
“Look here, you don’ tell me…”
“Now!”
Keller ran to her office to get her radio, and Haleth returned to Ben’s side, simply trying to slow the process.
“What’s happening?” Anne said, voice breaking down with fear.
“He is dying, and it is happening now,” Haleth said simply. “The infection has reached his vital organs and they are shutting down.” He said, slicing into flesh and applying more gel. He watched as the infection literally recoiled back for a few moments, before attacking healthy tissue again. Ben’s eyes closed again, and there was a low sigh as his chest stopped beating….
Anne was at Ben’s side in a heartbeat, stroking his head, speaking to him, tears in her eyes.
A faint glow emanated from her for a heartbeat, not long enough for anyone in the room to notice.
Almost anyone.
Haleth tilted his head as he watched the worried mother, a question filling his thoughts.

Ben floated in darkness. Occasionally, he could hear the beat of wings. He was alone, and although he could move, he could go nowhere except into the darkness.
Despite the black all around, he could see as if illuminated with light, he could see his own form. He wore a white set of robes from the waist down, similar to the Spartans of old, or the Anakim currently in Atlantis.
He was in pain. Ben knew he was not dead yet, because he could just make out voice, as if heard from just in earshot. He couldn’t hear the words, but he knew the voices.
His mum, Keller, Lorelle.
They were worried. The pain was getting worse, and even this dream version of him struggled to breath. He may not be dead, but the young captain knew he was dying. It terrified him, yet at the same time, he was calm. The worst thing was not seeing his family again.
“Don’t think like that,” a voice said from behind him.
Ben’s dream-image turned, and it looked upon a young, handsome man in the robes of an Ancient.
“Who…who are you?”
“I am Agathon,” the man said simply. His image wavered, as if ghostly.
“But…”
“Do not ask more, just fight! Do not let these feeling over take you!” Agathon replied.
“You must survive,” another voice, silky and full of grace, said.
A woman now stood with Agathon.
“I’ve been wounded by the Nephilim. There’s nothing they can do,” Ben sighed. “I’m dying,”
“This one, Inarin, knows not whom to listen to,” Agathon snorted. “Dying, he says. Boy, you will only die now if you let yourself. You might not be able to make yourself well, but you can stop this fall until Timral gets there,”
Ben looked at Agathon and the woman, now identified as Inarin. They wavered again, and seemed to draw back from him.
“What’s happening? Can you stay and help me?”Ben cried.
“No, boy. We are guests in the minds of great people, our hosts, and thus our presence in your conscious is very limited. In fact, if we stay longer, we risk losing our souls, that have lived on this long. We do this only to help save you, and thus ensure the survival of the galaxy.”
“But I cannot be that important!” Ben cried.
“You are, but not in the way he implies,” Inarin said gently. “You’re death in battle may or may not come, we cannot tell. You may tip the tides of a conflict, or die in vain, we cannot tell. But, if you die now, you will affect the hearts and spirits of those who WILL tip the scale, and they will be unable to do what is needed.”
The two figures grew fainter again.
“We have no time left, young one,” Inarin said. “But there is one, a Warrior, he will make you fight!” her eyes lit up a moment before the figures vanished completely.
“Who? What?” Ben muttered, before almost doubling over in pain again. It took several seconds, or at least it seemed that way, to right himself. As he stood and looked round, he called again. “Who can help me?”
“Me, lad,” a voice said, before a punch sent him flying to the ‘ground’ in his dark prison.
Ben looked up, and saw a man with bleached hair, a neat trimmed beard and wild eyes. He had a golden torque round his neck, and a great sword strapped to his back. He wore a rough skirt of brown cloth over tight legging; almost a kilt, but as if from a much earlier time, long before tartan.
Who are you?” Ben said desperately, backing away.
“I am Lorcan, and lad, I have as little time as Agathon and the Lady Inarin. But I will make you fight.” The image spat, throwing more punches.
Ben rolled with the blows, blocking and avoiding. He stopped a back hand from Lorcan, before the Warrior punched him in the face. Ben cried in agony, but no damage was done, no bones broken. Ben felt anger rise in him, and now he fought back, punching, kicking, using all his military training. Somehow, this ancient Warrior evaded and blocked, but the figure grinned and snarled.
“Good!”

“Timral will be here as quickly as he can…” Keller said, noticing suddenly the look on Anne’s face and the stillness of his chest. “Oh, Anne, I’m sorry…”
The blackened veins and pale skin suddenly halted its advance, and almost seemed to be physically pushed back towards the original wound. Haleth stared questioningly, Anne backing away in fright as Ben’s flesh rippled.
The captain gasped suddenly, lungs filling with air. He did not wake, but took breaths. Keller ran over with a breathing-aid, but Haleth held her back.
“What are you…let me…”
“Silence! And watch.”
“Why? What is going on?” Anne asked, tears staining her face.
“He is fighting back,”

“Come on, lad! Fight!” Lorcan said. The Warrior pressed his attack, but Ben could see him becoming fainter, just like Inarin and Agathon.
Ben attacked again, smashing fists into Lorcan, who took each blow, laughing.
“You can do it. Keep going.”
The pair fought on, until Lorcan held up a hand, “Stop,”
Ben stopped, not even panting, his Dream-image needing no such rest. He listened to the voices.
“Is that the other Anakim?” he asked.
“Sounds like,” Lorcan smiled. He held out a hand to Ben. “Keep strong in the time ahead, lad.”
“Who are you all?” Ben asked again in desperate confusion, still utterly unsure of what was happening.
“Never mind who we are,” Lorcan said before growing fainter. “Live, and enjoy it. But, one thing,”
“What?”
“A favour. Do not mention this to your friends and family. They will believe you, and it could cause unknown chaos. Just be satisfied that there are powers beyond what you know, fighting to help you all,” Lorcan replied.
“But…”
“Just, keep this to yourself. I don’t really understand it either, lad, but Agathon demanded I say it, so I have.” Lorcan grinned. “I am, after all, just a Warrior,” he said finally, fading from view.
Ben looked around the darkness, but none of the figures returned.
The darkness, however, was starting to become greyer….
“He is coming round,” Timral said. He held his right hand above the wound on Ben’s shoulder, and a golden glow was emitting from both.
Sheppard and Ronon where there too, having come from the tower with Timral.
“What…” Keller began. Haleth answered quickly, and quietly, as not to disturb Timral.
“The greatest amongst us had the power of healing. They could bring someone back from close to death, but no death itself. They could cure anything, but it cost a little part of themselves each time. The more is used, the longer it takes to heal. And you are never as whole as before you healed,” Haleth explained. Anne and Keller looked shocked, yet grateful for the sacrifice Timral was making.
Black, tar like material oozed from Ben’s wound, splashing to the floor. It writhed and bubble, but Haleth, always at hand, scorched the substance with fire from his hands.
Timral drew his hand away, and the very last dark material splattered to the ground. Haleth burned it, before catching Timral. Timral took a moment to regain his composure, before weakly standing on his own.
“I would be grateful if a message could be relayed to the waiting human officials, I must rest in my guest room,” he said to Sheppard, slowly walking away. Sheppard just nodded, dumbfounded.
Haleth bowed to Anne, before following his master.
Anne and Keller turned to Ben, who was sitting up now, eyes reddened slightly. Ronon was crouching beside him, asking him how he was.
Anne rushed over and hugged him. “My baby, how are you?” she asked breathlessly.
“Alive, ma. Alive.” He managed.
“Man, do the Macgregor’s bred ‘em tough,” Sheppard whistled in awe.
“That bloody hurt,” Ben muttered, an instant before falling into a healthy sleep.

[pookey]

i dont think i blinked the entire time i was reading it, bloody rivetting stuff BB, very well written, you have got to get this published, why dont you send it off to a few publishes when its all done, id buy it and im sure many others would too

[Stewart5]

Thank you Pooks. *whispers*ah'l give you the fiver later

[pookey]

ok, but i want a tenner next time

[Stewart5]

Nae worries,with praise like that

[pookey]

Puddles pays me £15 you get student discount

[Stewart5]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH