Stargate Atlantis - Allies

[pookey]

^


what about the irregular ones

[Stewart5]

They have to work off ours. Or else. Hows you my wee pooks?

[pookey]

im fine thanks bloody hot tho, you?

[Stewart5]

Not bad, me dear, not bad. Well chuffed. Got my bayonet, entrenching tool and some more webbing foy my reenacting. Happy, happy. How's work been?

Might be a little late on the estimate, but am working on Allies as we chat

[Stewart5]

Casualties and Feelings

Spoiler:

The Infirmary was filled to bursting – they had even requisitioned some space from adjacent dorms and empty labs to put up cots.
Anne was in overall charge, Keller her direct subordinate, with the regular Atlantis medical team, three British corpsmen and four American corpsmen. There was also a Canadian unit medic, halfway between corpsman and army nurse in skill, and of course, Lorrelle. A dozen or so normal squaddies were also present, moving stretchers and lifting people to and from cots where needed. Those troopers were from several different units, and different nations. Pulling together, to help those in need. They went about their business with fervent dedication, even though none of the casualties was an Atlantis member.
They had around forty seriously injured Travelers, with another thirty lesser injured in the peripheral rooms that had been re-tasked. The corpsmen saw to the lesser wounds, leaving the fully trained medical staff to deal with the serious.
“I need a 50gram clotting sponge!” Keller called. “I need to compress this wound!”
“Get me some plasma, now!” Anne shouted above the tumult, treating a young and very attractive blonde Traveler, whose face was a mask of blood and soot. “She’s lost a lot of blood, so hurry!”
“I need some sulfadiazine concentrate!” the Canadian medic boomed, treating one of the many burn wounds present.
Dozens of similar calls were made as efforts were made to save as many as possible.
“I need some help here!”

“Jesus,” Squadron Leader Dale muttered, the tale of the battle shocking the Rock Ape.
“What followed?” Woolsey asked.
The Anakim were keeping a respectful distance, at least until the Traveler’s could be assured that they were different from the ones who attacked them. Sheppard, Macara, Teyla and Ronon listened intently, the other officers standing a little behind. McKay stood, arms folded, for some reason in one of those moods.
“There was nothing we could do. They were so powerful. We lost six generational ships. Six!” Katana Labrea exasperated. She held a simple gauze-and-pad field dressing to a gash down the side of her face. She had been aboard her Generational ship during the battle, and it was one of the two that returned.
“How did they get the jump on you?” Sheppard asked. “Did they just appear from hyperspace?”
“What do you think, Sherlock? That they would have sat and waited to see who the ships were?” McKay said in his regular superior tone.
“McKay, I swear...” Macara growled, making the scientist back away.
“That’s exactly what happened,” Katana replied, looking even more crest fallen. “We were on a survey mission, and had people on the ground. We picked up sensor ghosts at long distance, moving round the planet, and we couldn’t identify them. Larrin waited until we could make a visual. By then, it was too late,”
Teyla put an arm round Katana. When the Traveler colony was destroyed, and their Aurora almost destroyed as well, Katana had come to Atlantis to get their assistance. Teyla and she had become good friends when McKay and Zalenka had gone to help repair the Aurora Class afterwards.
“There was nothing you could do. The Nephilim are a terrible foe,” Teyla said gently.
“Our Aurora, and Larrin’s ship, managed to destroy a cruiser between them. The drones worked better than all our ships energy weapons put together.”
“ I knew it!” McKay clicked his fingers, smiling slightly. “I knew the drones would....” The look on Macara’s face silence McKay instantly.
“Where is Larrin?” Sheppard asked suddenly, fearing the worst.
Katana looked up, face ashen now. “Her ship was destroyed. It managed to launch some shuttles, and we took on some survivors, but I did not see her amongst them. We...she...”
Teyla comforted the normally strong and indefatigable Katana.
Sheppard was already running to the infirmary. Macara gave McKay another withering glance, before following after the colonel. Ronon stalked after them, Teyla staying with Katana.

“Damn! She’s fibrillating! We need to defib, now,” Anne muttered as her team worked on one young woman. Her face was coated in blood, staining long, blonde hair.
She had several large lacerations, and she was bleeding out. Now, her heart was failing too.
One of Keller’s team rushed over with a de-fibrillator, but it was too late. The woman’s heart just wasn’t strong enough.
“Time of death, 14:22. Cause, severe trauma from multiple shrapnel laceration causing shock to the heart.” Anne said sadly. A USM and an Australian SASR gently lifted the body onto a stretcher and began to carry her to a slowly enlarging fatality pile.
Sheppard arrived just in time to see the matted blonde hair touching the ground as the stretcher was lowered, and a sheet covering the woman’s face.
The colonel went to the body, keeping as composed as possible. He pulled back the now bloodstained cloth to check the face.
The woman was pretty, but too young to be Larrin. Sheppard could tell, even through the blood, that it wasn’t the larger-than-life Traveler leader.
Macara had never seen Sheppard like this. It was completely out of character, well, at least from what he had seen of the colonel. He knew the colonel would give his life for his friends, do anything for them but this...this was something more.
Sheppard reverently replaced the death shroud, and began checking all the bodies. He did it calmly, with dignity, but Macara and Ronon could tell that inside he was desperately hoping to find someone.
Or in this case, not to.
Keller came over, also worried by what she saw.
“Colonel who are you...”
“Larrin. No one has seen her since they escaped.” John said quickly, not even looking up.
“John, you heard what Katana said. She may not have made it out...”
“Ronon, this was our fault. They went after the Travelers to get to us, I can feel it. I won’t let her die because of our faults,” Sheppard’s words were sheathed in steel, and even Ronon knew better than to argue. The big man simply walked over, and began to check through the lower-triaged casualties in the outer ‘wards’. Macara began searching the dead with the colonel.
Keller looked over at Anne, who was just about to start on another patient. She needed a rest, having treated seven patients in a row, non-stop. Keller would step in.
“I’ll send Captain MacGregor over. Maybe she can help,” Jennifer said, smiling sadly at the colonel before walking away to get Anne.
Sheppard had finished, having looked under every shroud.
“Well, at least she’s not amongst the dead, sir,” Macara said as optimistically as possible. Ronon walked back into the room, and shook his head.
Anne approached, talking a pair of bloody rubber gloves off and placing them in a disposal bin. “Colonel, Dr Keller said you wanted some help?”
“Dr MacGregor, I’m sorry to bother you. Have you treated any blonde women?” Macara asked.
“Yes, one. We just placed her over there,” Anne pointed to the first shroud John had looked under.
“No others yet? Did you see Larrin?” he asked desperately.
“No...well....wait. There was one woman. She had burns on her right side, and several deep lacerations. I couldn’t see her face, it was covered in grime and blood...why...that couldn’t have been...could it?”
“What happened?” Sheppard begged, eyes wide. He still had some of his composure, but Macara could tell he was only just holding back a flood of emotion.
“She survived, just. She’s still critical. We put her and a few other in the quarantine lab as a sort of ICU...” Anne got no further as John strode off, fighting the urge not to break into a full on run.
Ronon gave Macara a rough nudge. “Let’s go,”
The major nodded and followed. “Do you think she is still alive?”
“Well, from the way I heard she beat Sheppard up, I think she’s a proper little fighter. I kinda hope so; I want her to do it again.” Ronon said. Macara realised even the big man was worried;
Worried for Larrin, possibly, but more so for Sheppard, his friend, and how it would hit him.
They were behind Sheppard as he crouched over a figure lying swathed in bandages, with a plasma drip linked to her arm. He was gently stroking dirt and blood from her face.
“It’s her,” the colonel whispered, before turning to Ronon and Nathan. “It’s her!”

Yes, I know I am 2 hours late, but Braveheart came on TV, okay?

[pookey]

Brilliant my dear, i needed a fix, and the dealer came thro very well written and the drones work i cant see it being long before Atlantis gets hit, they may have followed the travellers back

[Stewart5]

Well, there may be a plan in it......wait and see.

[pookey]

do i have a choice

[Stewart5]

actually, I'm about finished another entry little miss smarty pants. so nya nya

[Stewart5]

More Arguments

Note; there have been a few small edits in "Nezrah", pg 37 and "No Matter What", pg39 that should be re-read before reading this.

Spoiler:

MacGregor surveyed the scene of the battle. The Lucian Ha’taks drifted, burning and crippled. One had been completely destroyed. He was getting impatient. He wanted to be away.
The Dreadnaught had taken some hull damage, as the Ha’taks fired with Nephilim upgraded weapons. But, without Jocyel’s expertise, this particular Nephilim had been unable to make the Ha’taks so formidable.
“No reports of any survivors on this ship, Admiral,” the USAF officer radioed back to the Dreadnaught. “No Nephilim either,”
“Very good, major. Come back across.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What now, Admiral?” Ellis asked
“Well, colonel, with your permission, I would like you to destroy what’s left of that ship. Then, turn your weapons on the other hulks and we can head back to the SGC,”
“Sir...of course, but...don’t you wish to hunt for the Nephilim? Ellis asked in genuine surprise.
“I don’t want to risk men boarding those ships. They are in a worse condition than that last one. No, blow it,”
“Sir, our sensor don’t penetrate their upgraded hulls. There may be survivors,” Ellis tried again. MacGregor’s look told him what would be the best option. Ellis sighed. “Major, prepare batteries and open fire on the last ships.”
“Aye, sir.”
Beside the admiral, Cate looked at her father.
“Dad, are you really not going to look for surv....”
“On the bridge, it admiral, Agent MacGregor. Off the bridge you can call me anything you want.” The admiral said a little sharply. Cate was surprised; he had never acted like that before. As senior officers went, he was strict when he had to be, but he would never be malignant with his rank.
“Sorry. Sir.” She said, and turned and left the bridge.
MacGregor realised that he had probably been a little harsh, but he didn’t want to be here, chasing dregs of Lucian thugs with the possibility of a Nephilim on occasion. Not the most serious threat.
Mac really wanted to be in Pegasus, with the troops and fleet, stopping the main Nephilim force from destroying Atlantis and then coming on to Earth. Only their petulant hatred of the Ancients and Anakim kept them in Pegasus in the first place, trying to destroy the things they built. As soon as they could build their forces, find the last sleeping Fallen Ones, they would come back to the Milky Way.
And there was the urge, the feeling. Something at the back of Mac’s head not only wanted to go, but was telling him he needed to go. That it was what he was born for.
“Colonel, admiral, we have a comm form an unidentified ship,” the comms officer looked over in surprise.
“Who is it?” Ellis asked.
“A ship claiming to be the Red hawk. They say they are the Anakim!”
Mac was stunned. “Put them on; let’s see what they want.”

* * *

“Major, we have another report coming in,” Chuck spoke to Macara, the duty officer. “The Nephilim have hit a Genii colony-outpost. Ladon Radim wonders if we can send any support or aid?”
“How bad is it?”
“Lots of dead, soldiers and civilians. Ladon was there in person, seeing how the building of the colony was going, making sure it was properly concealed from hunting Wraith.”
Macara looked over at the briefing room. The debates were still raging on how best to proceed. General Salmon had come through the Stargate, his first actual trip off world. He was representing the UK’s interests in the situation. He had held his head in one hand for a couple of hours now, taking notes with the other and staying unusually quiet. Captain Stewart was coming close to trading blows with General Caldwell. The US personnel, almost to a man, agreed with Caldwell’s appraisals. Woolsey, to his credit, was both mediating and still retaining his own opinion, not being sidelined by the soldiers.
The representatives of France, Australia and Russia were in there as well, trying to agree on Earth’s fate.
Sheppard tried his hardest to stay out of the arguments, even when his opinion was being asked. Ronon and Teyla had long since left to do other things, knowing their knowledge and experience was not required right now.
The Anakim had returned to their ships until the humans could get over this situation. They had seemed a little disgusted by the events, believing humanity to be a united force, only now finding out that they were fractured and damned hard to get to agree with each other.
Macara shook his, knowing that he couldn’t bother any of the people senior to him.
“Get a couple of teams together, section sized, and then assemble as much humanitarian aid as we can spare. Then get it shipped out to them.”
“Will do, major,”
Macara sighed. The Nephilim were making more attacks, on more erstwhile allies of Atlantis. This wasn’t good.

Out in orbit, amongst debris left from one of the more badly damaged Generational ships, a small, black shape, shining like dark glass, pulled away from concealment and made for the outer edges of the system. Before any sensors could get a fix on the craft, if was gone, shooting into hyperspace.
Back to the Nephilim.

“This plan has all the tactical acumen of the Charge of the light brigade,” Caldwell replied caustically.
“Erm...I think you’ll find we won that one, General,” Salmon muttered, breaking his silence for the first time in twenty minutes.
Woolsey held up a hand. “Gentlemen, please. Insults will get us nowhere. Look, we have to agree on something! All we have established so far is that, in space we lose to them. On the ground, we can beat them, but only just and only with the biggest guns we have got. And we still take heavy casualties. So far, no one’s plans are suitable! Not without a heavy cost in lives.”
“Men die in war, Mr. Woolsey. It is sad and regrettable, but it happens.” Caldwell said honestly. “No plan will be without risk.”
“Weren’t you just talking about Balaclava?” Stewart muttered.
“What was that captain?” the US general growled back.
“What? Me, nothing sir, nothing at all.”
“Show some damned respect!” Commander Connolly snarled at Stewart. It seemed their friendship did not come before their countries.
“You say we men die in war, but whose men will those be, General? We have a lot to thank the US for, over the last decade, but in the last couple of years, the death toll amongst foreign members has risen, and that of the SGC steadily fallen. Who would be on the front line, General? US Marines, or Russian infantry, British airforce?” the Russian representative, a man by the name of Melcovic, asked bitterly.
“I can’t remember the last time the Russians committed any major forces. In fact, don’t you have all of three officers and a dozen men invested in Atlantis?” the Australian representative, one of their Parliamentary Ministers, John Deakin, asked with a hiss.
“We lost a whole cruiser, and provided teams for years.”
“Well, we now have...”
“That is IT! Stop it, now!” Salmon barked. “I have had enough. We need to work together. We can’t do this alone. You realise we are just doing them a favour here? By fighting amongst ourselves, we can’t fight them with all our strength. We have to stand together. That means ALL the countries in the Gate Alliance. Now, the operational ideas so far have, pretty much, been poor. Engaging in large ground operations won’t work, because they will have more forces. Yes, we can beat the Wraith, but those Nephilim are the real problem. This larger, monstrous one, ‘Balor’, I believe the notes called him, he chewed through battle tanks with his bare hands! We must find a way to settle this without engaging in larger planet-side operations.
“In space, we don’t fare well against equal numbers of enemy ships; their technology surpasses ours by too wide a margin. When we outnumber them, we have a much better chance. We have the Anakim, and now the Traveler Aurora. We should concentrate on a few ships at a time, and pound them. That is our best fleet plan. But there lies the next problem; where are they?”
“With respect, general, we’ve been over these ideas too, weeks ago,” Caldwell spoke out.
“And dismissed them because they weren’t complicated enough, I presume? I know the Atlantis expedition has solved many, many life or death situations with their complex plans, and the likes of Doctor McKay working on them. But sometimes, the simple ideas are the best. No need for hyperspace volcano escapes, nor anti-replicator viruses. The best thing McKay could be working on is a way to improve our Railguns impacts on the enemy ships.”
Caldwell nodded. “Okay, true enough. I agree on a lot of that actually.”
“Another thing is more lateral military support. More troops to support the Americans in the field. They can’t take the whole burden,” Salmon pointed out, trying to stay polite.
“More troops mean more security risks,” Woolsey said nervously. “We would have to see about reinforcing the Official secrets acts for each nation,”
“What would we get in return for more troops?” Melcovic asked, chancing the question all Government representatives wanted to ask when involved in Gate Alliance business.
“We would have to discuss it more once I speak with my superiors, but in the circumstances, access to more advanced materials, more Gate access. Something like that.”
“That would be...appropriate,” Melcovic mused.
“Good. Now, can we civilly discuss this. The sooner we can get the Anakim back the better,” Salmon suggested.

[pookey]

thanks for making me read back and your spelling as improved 10 fold, not that i gave a damn about a few spelling mistakes....except Zelenka im suprised the Anakim havent buggered off with all the bickering Earth is doing, brilliantly done my good man *hugs* more

[Stewart5]

more later. JJ is throwing me off the Pc

Damn! I KEEP getting Zelenka wrong....damn it....

[pookey]

JJ hurry up please

[puddlejumperOZ]

Frellin marvelous Stewart, good debates raging, glad they're getting their act togther though. Brilliant work lad

[Aragon101]

Just read the latest two parts, and apart from a little eye-rolling at the Caldwell and McKay bashing - which is just my opinion, not saying you're actively doing it - they were pretty damn good. The arguing was decently done and the casualties and such were quite believable. The distinct 'foreign' taste is a little rich though, even to a Canadian

I have to call you out on the Shep/Larrin bits. Shep would never freak out like that.

Look at anytime he's ever chased down someone he 'loved'. He was always calm, he never freaked out or went emotional. He's a badass and i think if he found out Larrin was badly hurt, he'd bury the guilt/pain and simply focus on the rage. In my opinion, Sheppard would have been quiet throughout the whole thing, asking only the bare minimum Something like asking Keller. "Where's Larrin?"and that's basically it, allowing the current of the infirmary to take him to her, and once he gets there, just silently take it in and internally boil.