~ Left Behind ~

An Author's Note follows the chapter.

Word Count: 407

Characters: The Team, of course, plus Weir, Lorne, Beckett. Appearance by Chuck.

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"Unscheduled off-world activation."

At Chuck's announcement Elizabeth Weir pushed back her desk chair and hustled across the bridge from her office to the Control Room. "How many teams are off-world?" she queried as she made her way to the balcony. There were at least two, she knew, and if this meant trouble, more likely than not, it would be with John Sheppard's team. The shield was raised. She noted the Gate detail was already forming a defensive perimeter. Her tense gaze followed the lights as each chevron engaged.

"Three - Colonel Sheppard's, and Captains Hale and Mercer," Chuck answered. "No one's due back for at least two-and-a-half hours." The wormhole roared into existence, then settled into a shimmering wall. Chuck looked down at his computer, then leaned in closer. "Receiving Morse Code... Dr. McKay's IDC."

McKay's identification number, but it was Teyla who spoke. "Alanis! We ure comin- John! ...Nooo!"

Elizabeth gripped the balcony rail, considered her options, and with a nod, ordered the shield to be lowered, then waited for whatever would follow Teyla's desperate words.

There were sounds of a scuffle - shouts, grunts, the thud of flesh pounding flesh in some sort of confrontation. Teyla suddenly erupted sidewise through the event horizon, sailing in an arc. She landed awkwardly, in a half-formed tuck-and-roll that only partly minimized her impact. The Marines held their positions; other Gate Room personnel rushed to aid Teyla while the unseen struggle continued. Elizabeth heard Chuck call for medical assistance as Rodney came barreling through the Gate, whirling his arms to maintain balance in a headlong charge. He ultimately lost his footing and fell in a belly-flop, lessened slightly by his outstretched hands. Ronon growled, blood splattered through the shimmer, then a moment of silence before one large Satedan boot emerged from the Puddle, heel first. The boot was sliding backwards, the materializing leg and back in a stance of resistance as Ronon was inexorably forced into Atlantis from the other side. The big man lowered both his arms and turned to scan the room, gripping his right wrist; blood ran between the fingers of his left hand and from his brow. The wormhole collapsed, leaving a false sense of quiet; chaos remained - Marines hurrying to help with the injured as the medics arrived.

"Call Major Lorne to the Gate Room," Elizabeth ordered over her shoulder - John Sheppard had not made it home.

Author's Note: This story was largely written a while ago, as in, a couple years. Life interfered, my muse went on vacation, and the story just sogged. Time after time I've picked up the threads to finish this piece and I've gotten nowhere. [After vacation my muse evidently went into hibernation and with the exceptions of electroshock therapy and dynamite, I've tried about everything to shake things up.] The next section of this tale is unwritten, the section after that is partially written, and the rest is actually completed.

I never wanted to post anything I had not finished, and I like to keep my tales short so they can be posted in one chapter and read in one sitting. However, I'm posting this short lead-in because I'm shamelessly soliciting feedback to see if there's interest and to see if said [hopefully positive] feedback will wake my muse. So, is anybody interested?

Feedback (or dynamite) would be appreciated.

Thanks for reading.