Title: Unthinkable 1/2

WAHP Prompt: When the unthinkable becomes the only option.

Summary: Three years after the fall of Atlantis. It hit Sheppard with all of the subtlety of a nuclear air strike, "Oh my God. You're mercenaries." Everyone froze at the word but Sheppard continued, "Lorne, what have you done?"

Word Count: 8549 (for this part)

It had been three years since John Sheppard had last seen his beloved Atlantis - since he had last felt her caress his mind. His life was different now. He had become a new man. He wondered, what would Elizabeth think of him now? He wasn't a bad man, he knew, just one who had lost the disillusionment of his past life. He wasn't the lost son of Ancient Mythical Atlantis, Lorne wasn't going to come in that last minute save - a minute that had come and gone years ago - and he wasn't going home.

Truth be told, he didn't know how well he would fit back in on Atlantis. Three years of living as a simple farmer - along with his team - had changed his perspective. Sure, he would love to go home, but would he be fit to go back to what he was?

If he was honest with himself, he wasn't actually angry at the people who took his team captive all those years ago. They had held them for a ransom of medicine - stupid, simple medicine that the Lantians would've given them anyway - but, he knew their hearts weren't really in it. He heard it in the way they tried to break the news that the gate would no longer lock onto Atlantis, in the way they sheepishly offered his team a home, a way of life, a promise to keep trying to reach his people. He couldn't be angry at that.

As he laid down on the mat the Satrioans gave him, in the room in the Chief's house that he had, his thoughts turned to Atlantis, as they did most nights. He wondered what they were doing, if they were safe, if they were happy. He thought it must be around Christmas time there, if his internal clock was right, and he wondered if they had decorated. If Zelenka was handing out his rotgut or Keller was dancing with all the marines like the last Christmas he was there for. Was Cadman decorating the tree with bullets like last time? Was Kaufman hanging mistletoe from the gate again, only to give Lorne a sad puppy look as it gets disintegrated in the wash from the wormhole?

He sighed and tried not to think about everyone back on Atlantis, but his thoughts wandered back to them as sleep came to claim him.

****

"Sir?" It was a voice from his past - one he never thought he'd hear again.

"Lorne?" He rose from his mat to gaze into the dark hallway through the little window on the door, but he couldn't see anyone clearly.

"Sorry we're late, sir." His voice still held that bit of humor Sheppard remembered, "You OK?"

Whispered voices came from near the major, "Where are the others?"

"And do you know where keys are?"

Sheppard had to smile at their efficiency, "Yes, down the hall, and what keys?"

Three figures disappeared silently, off to the others' chambers, while Lorne's shadow moved closer. "The keys to your cell."

Sheppard opened the door, "It's not a cell, it's my room."

"Your room?"

"Yeah, after a month or two here we were full fledged citizens," he couldn't keep the hurt, the anger, out of his voice.

But Lorne sounded hesitant, "So they treated you OK?"

"Yeah. Pillows on the beds and everything," he said, somewhat sarcastically, but somewhat curiously. Lorne was silent but he could feel the cold radiating from him.

The major turned and crept silently down the hall toward where the others were just leaving the rooms with their various charges. Sheppard idly wondered if he used to be that quiet on missions like these.

The team Lorne had brought with him was good, silent and fast. They wasted no time in putting the former SGA-1 team between them, Lorne on point, and leaving the building just as quietly as they came in.

"So, they've finally come for you, have they?"

John winced as Lorne's team had their weapons trained on the speaker in an instant. "It's OK," he told them and they cautiously lowered their weapons. "Yes," he answered, "Took them long enough." He was surprised at the slight shuffle he detected from the men, but ignored it. "Thank you for everything, Chief." He gave a ceremonious bow, knowing the man couldn't see it, but could hear the rustling of his clothes.

"Safe journey, John. Teyla, Rodney, Ronon." He said their names with ceremonious dignity and there was the rustling of clothing all around.

"All right, let's go."

They moved out of the building and into the dark night. The two moons of Satrio barely illuminating their path. No one spoke as they moved toward the gate.

"Reed, dial the gate." Lorne ordered from next to Sheppard.

As the gate burst into life, throwing the entire area into sharp relief, Sheppard let out his breath in a surprised huff as he caught a glimpse of Lorne, of his scared face, and of the milky blind eye beneath the scar. "Lorne," he looked around and noticed everyone was clothed in less than well patched BDUs.

Lorne stared hard at him, his sightless eye unnerving the former colonel, "I'll explain later, sir."

"Hey, wait, that's the wrong address," he faintly heard Rodney say sleepily as they approached the gate. But Lorne's men were apparently not in the mood for talk as they just ignored him and herded them through the gate - and into sunshine.

They blinked at the sudden change in light and paused. This was not Atlantis.

"Lucy, I'm hooome!" One of the marines called out, the four members of the rescue team never missing a step. Sheppard and McKay jumped as four people suddenly materialized out of the bushes.

Miko approached them steadily. "Hey, Miko," Lorne greeted as he headed away from the gate. She caught up to him and spun deftly on her heel to walk with him. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Major..." Sheppard was speechless.

"You missed Val's baby."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes, Freddy has been walking around like a cock on the prowl."

"On the walk," echoed from the others around the startled SGA-1 team, but Miko ignored them.

"He has too much energy. Perhaps you can give him a mindless task?"

"All of his tasks are mindless, Miko. But, we'll see about the next mission. Speaking of which-?"

"None. But we have enough supplies to last a few more weeks. Perhaps a little less now," she said with a pointed glance at McKay.

"Hey," McKay protested around a mouthfull of something the marines had handed him.

They were led down a well-worn path to a cave hidden behind a waterfall. "Woah. Nice place," Sheppard said, whistling a little as he took in the sight. They had obviously been here a long time. The cave was crudely decorated with woodwork - mostly chests, but also one beautifully hand carved wooden screen. "How long have you guys been here?"

"Just around three years," a feminine voice spoke from behind them and Sheppard jumped slightly at her silent approach. They turned to see a very pregnant Dr. Keller. "Hello." She said simply, eyes dark and calculating - as if she were judging them.

"Torren!" Teyla cried out as she saw the young boy. He was older than Sheppard remembered, so much bigger. Of course he would be, he thought, it had been three years.

Dr. Waldron - she at least looked mostly the same, save for a gnarled scar across her cheek bone - was holding Torren by the hand and leading him to the Athosian woman. "'Ren, meet your mother. Do you remember your mother?" He looked up at Teyla and whimpered.

"Torren, dear, come to me." Teyla's voice was full of unshed tears.

"Come on, 'Ren," Waldron deftly picked the little boy up and held him out to Teyla and Sheppard could see that Waldron wanted to cry as well. The boy began to struggle in her grip. "'Ren, please, go to your mother."

"NO! Sita! I wanna stay with Sita!"

At the word both women froze. Teyla's face became hard. "Sita?"

Waldron didn't answer, just fumbled with the struggling boy more, "Please, Ren! Please!" She began to weep as she tried to hand the boy over.

"Sita?" Teyla was no longer trying to take her son from the doctor.

"Yes," Waldron admitted quietly, "We thought-"

"You had no right! He is my son! That word is only used for women who have adopted a child whose mother is dead! I am here! I am alive!"

"Please!" Waldron cried, obviously torn between trying to do what was right and what her heart wanted. "Teyla-!"

"I want my son."

"Take him, please," she was sobbing openly, most of the group standing behind her, frowning.

Teyla strode forward purposefully and snatched her son from the weeping doctor.

Torren shrieked when her hands touched him and kicked out at her. "SITA!" The little boy held his arms out to Waldron, screaming.

Teyla seemed to pause at this. She put Torren down and he ran to the pathologist, throwing himself into her arms as she bent down to meet him. "I am... sorry, Dr. Waldron. I had not realized... Of course, you have raised him as your own for several years. He would not remember me."

"He'll remember you if you just give him time," she replied, quietly as she tried to sooth the boy.

"I think... I need some air." Teyla was uncharacteristic in her hesitation as she left the cave quickly.

"Evan, the gate," a woman Sheppard vaguely recognized as as one of the archaeologists from Atlantis approached the group with silent steps.

Lorne nodded, "Let me know." She nodded once and set off.

"You're not worried about who might come through?"

"Nobody ever comes through. Except for us," he said nonchalantly.

Sheppard frowned, but he didn't really want to ask why they were so sure. Ronon, on the other hand, had no such reservations, "How?"

"Everyone has a standing kill order. A shoot on sight. If you don't give the passcode you don't live long enough to harm us. Only one planet is allowed full access to us."

Ronon nodded and Sheppard asked, "And which planet would that be?"

"M7G-677."

"The kids?"

"Our only allies throughout this entire three years."

One of the scientists, a botanist, if Sheppard remembered correctly, ran up to Lorne out of breath, an odd object in his hand. "It just came through," he handed the object to Lorne and the major pulled it open. It was a picture wrapped around a rock, a gate address scribbled on the corner. "Hey, a picture this time!" The scientist sounded enthusiastic. "Who do you want?"

Lorne thought for a moment before replying, "Freddy. Miko said he needs to burn off some of that energy. Take Mal and Ollie with you. If you want this one, that is."

"Why not? It's been a while and we need some supplies. They'll pay well. Maybe we can wrangle a microscope!" The man was entirely too happy.

Lorne smiled softly, "Yeah, well, I'm sure Ollie can help you with that one. Miko, escort them to the gate and make sure they're kitted out properly."

It hit Sheppard with all of the subtlety of a nuclear air strike, "Oh my God. You're mercenaries." Everyone froze at the word but Sheppard continued, "Lorne, what have you done?" Sheppard was shocked. 'His people' had become special ops practically overnight. Keller was silent, her eyes hard. Miko was fingering the knife on her hip thoughtfully.

"I did what had to be done." Lorne's voice was cold, "No one would take us in. This was the only way. I had no choice."

"You always have a choice, Major," Sheppard made his own voice just as cold. He noticed suddenly that everyone around him had stiffened - the air grew chilled. He had made a mistake criticizing Lorne.

"Jenn," Evan was quiet.

"Yeah," she replied and, without another word, left. The others followed soundlessly, only Reed and Kaufman staying, standing a stiff sentry around their commander. John's team followed suit.

"No one would help us," Lorne was the first to break the uncomfortable silence with his quiet confession. Sheppard noted the guilt buried in his blue eyes as he said the painful words. "We had nothing to offer, so they had nothing to give."

(THREE YEARS EARLIER)

"Major, you have to go."

Evan Lorne understood immediately what Woosley wasn't saying. There had to be someone at the Alpha Site who could keep order - who could take command. Woosley somehow understood that not everyone was making it through the 'gate. There was no eleventh hour save for Atlantis this time. "But I don't think..." he trailed off when he saw the look on Richard's face. He wanted to argue, "Sir, shouldn't you-"

"We both know I'm not that man, Major. Now go."

And Lorne knew he was right. As the military XO he would already have the soldiers follow him and he had a good report with the scientists.

They stood for a moment, staring at each other as the gateroom began to fill up, the sound of frantic calls floating up to them, Woosley with a sad look of regret, and Lorne with a look of shocked desperation.

"Major. Go."

Lorne nodded and trotted off. "Dial the Alpha Site," he called up to Chuck as he raced down the stairs. "Master Chief, head the team out."

She nodded and, as soon as the gate engaged, slipped through, Reed and Kaufman right behind her. He rushed through the gate, took a cursory glance around, and toggled his radio, "Alright, Atlantis, begin evacuation."

No sooner had he finished his sentence then gurneys began to come through. Scientists and soldiers injured in the initial siege were being wheeled by their coworkers, Dr. Keller accompanying them, followed closely by Dr. Waldron holding Torren.

Suddenly, the flow of Lantians ceased. "Atlantis," Lorne toggled his radio again, "What's going on? Why have-?" Over his radio he heard a massive noise and he had no time to react before something solid hit him in the face. The last thing he heard were the screams of the last remaining Lantians.

"Major? I know you're in there." The slightly accented voice was annoyed as it nagged at him, "Come on, Evan, open your eyes for me."

He decided he would comply, if only to get the voice to shut up. And maybe to get some aspirin.

He blinked rapidly against the bright light and groaned. "Turn down the lights, will ya?" He managed to ground out.

The woman sounded amused, "I can't turn down the sun, Evan."

"Fair enough," his head was beginning to clear so he tried to open his eyes again. "Hey, Doc."

Dr. Waldron grinned at him, "Hey yourself, Evan." One side of her face was bandaged, her green eyes standing out above the stark white fabric, one already swelling in a bruise. "How are you feeling, beside the obvious headache?"

"It's really just the headache. And my vision seems... weird."

An emotion he couldn't place flashed across her face but she quickly muffled it. "We were worried. I'd say nothing more than a concussion."

He frowned, "You're lying."

She bit her lip, the bandage pulling with the movement. She reached down and grabbed a makeup compact off the ground. "I found this scattered among the medical supplies." She handed it to him gently.

"What, you think I really need a touch-up right now?"

She gave a half-grin, "Just use the mirror, you wanker."

He did and to his surprise he had a bandage of his own across his left eye. "What?"

"When Atlantis... blew... you were hit with a piece of shrapnel. We don't really know what's going to happen with that eye. We're just going to have to wait and see."

He wanted to be upset. What good was a half blind major. Or for that matter, a half blind artist? But he had no time.

"The others?" He sat up with her help.

"Small shrapnel injuries, mostly. Nothing too major. A few deaths, mostly those already injured." She said it casually, but he could see the guilt in her downcast eyes.

He nodded, fighting the urge to say something uselessly placating. Nothing he said would help her right now. "Help me up," she moved to do so and he continued, "Who's left?"

"Dr. Keller's attending to Dr. Kusanagi right now, but she should be alright. Reed and Kaufman weren't injured too bad. Torren's just fine, Dr. Dustin is with him now."

"All I need's a list, Doc. How many?" He had to focus.

She frowned, "Eighteen at last count. Nineteen if you count Torren."

He frowned at her in confusion and pain as she helped him begin the walk to where the others had begun to set up camp. Such a low number. Nineteen.

She stopped walking and faced him, just at the edge, out of the hearing range of the others. "Twenty-one made it through the gate before... well... Two have already died. There are two more in critical condition and we simply don't have the equipment to help. Some of the soldiers put up a medical tent and they're there now. Reed had them put you over here out of the way because you weren't as bad as the others. We've been taking shifts, making sure you weren't alone." She must've seen the 'why-the-hell-was-I-out-in-the-middle-of-the-woods?' look.

"And what about-?" The bodies.

She nodded, knowing exactly what he was asking, "Sgt. Archer and Capt. Newkirk are... digging."

He nodded morbidly, "Who?"

"Sgt. Michaels and," she paused to compose herself, "Radek." She choked on the name.

He sighed, no time. "And who's in the tent?"

"Private Lewis and Lt. Drivden. Dr. Kusanagi was burned on her arm pretty badly, but she'll pull through. We're not quite sure about the mobility of her hand though. We've got Sgt. Hoover working on whatever medical equipment broke in the explosion, but it's not looking good in that regard, either."

He nodded and noticed that Captain Reed was jogging over, "Hey, Simon. Status?"

"Kaufman and Master Chief took Dr. LaRoche to look for shelter. Something about an old mission report mentioning caves." He gave Dr. Waldron a once-over, "I assume you already know the status of the wounded personnel?"

"Yeah."

"I've got the Brits working on-." He couldn't finish.

"I know," Lorne broke in, relieving him of that duty.

"So... what do we do now, sir?"

It was such a simple question, with such a ridiculously hard answer. Looking around, Lorne noticed that everyone had stopped whatever it was they had been doing and were looking at him. He suddenly realized that he held their lives in his hands.

He also suddenly realized - he had no fucking clue what to do.

The cave was damp, its entrance hidden behind a waterfall - just like something out of a book - but it was big enough to house them all. At least, it looked that way to Lorne's messed up vision.

"Reed," he called the captain away from Dr. LaRoche who was lecturing to anyone in the general vicinity about the sturdiness of the rock. Kaufman looked glazed and Master Chief looked like she was about to murder some poor, helpless animal. Quite possibly Kaufman.

Reed trotted up to him, the relief evident on his face, "Sir?"

Lorne dropped his voice to a whisper, "Listen, Simon, my vision's a bit... screwy... and until I adjust I'm going to be off. Is this cave really big enough for all of us? Can you give me dimensions?"

Reed looked around, gauging distances and, dropping his voice as well, turned his back to the others. Lorne was grateful. "It's big enough to hold everyone pretty comfortably. Kaufman's already talking about having a few marines build rooms." His tone told Lorne that the older man obviously thought the idea was a bit ambitious.

"That big?" Lorne was surprised.

Reed nodded, "That big. We're also not that many. They found a corridor leading off to a bigger cavern. Master Chief tested the floors, nothing that will give way. We can build whatever the hell Kaufman has in mind. We can bunk up in the back room just to be safe. The corridor's narrow enough to be able to block off any attack - just in case."

"We far underground?"

"About half a mile in the living quarters, a little less in here. I figure we can make this the public space. Cordon off a section for a little med suite. Doc should like it." He gave a sad smile and Lorne gave one of his own.

He realized just how hard it was to begin to plan out a whole new life just hours after the old one suddenly ended.

"Alright. Kaufman!" Everyone came over to him, "You and Master Chief take Dr. LaRoche down further. I want to know just how far this thing goes. map it if you can. Reed, you stay up here and be the middle man, just in case. And watch for signs of animal life. I don't want a bear to eat anyone."

They all smiled at his lame attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll go back down to camp and see what we can begin doing. I want to wait to move anyone up here until we can get lights and safety measurements in here. You four will be in charge of that. Dr. Keller and Dr. Waldron can take turns helping with the future med bay."

Kaufman gave him an excited smile, "It's going to be fantastic when we finish, sir!"

He smiled at the young man's eagerness, "Well, it had better be, Kaufman! OK, you guys get to work. I want you all back by supper time with more intel."

He got two 'yes sir's an 'aye sir' and even a 'oui, major' from Dr. LaRoche.

They broke to go exploring, each with an excited look on their faces, happy to be doing something, Kaufman and Master Chief arguing good-naturedly about bunking arrangements.

He left them to their fun and soberly headed back to camp, wondering just what he was going to say to help ease the pain.

"There you are." Lorne sat down next to the silent Sheppard, his sightless eye sending shivers down the Colonel's spine. The Lantian survivors' tale had just begun but he was engrossed. He had to leave to get some air and calm himself by staring at the stars. "You shouldn't go out at night by yourself. Mainly because-."

"I know, I know. I'm out of practice, I've been away for too long, I get it."

"Actually, I was going to say: 'because of the giant flying dinosaurs', but... whatever."

Sheppard cracked a smile at that. "Tell me more. I want to hear the whole thing."

Evan sat quietly at the base of a large weeping willow-like tree he had found on his way back to 'base camp', lost in thought.

He was a desperate man. Desperate for answers and for solutions. What was he supposed to do? He had to take care of these people, he had to get them shelter and food and a way of life. They couldn't just sit and wait. The Daedelus wasn't coming for them this time. That hope had gone down in a fireball in the last moment of the first siege.

He knew that this small band of survivors were hurting. The life they had known for years was gone- snatched from them so quickly it was staggering. Their friends and colleagues - for some, even lovers - were gone. He had seen their eyes, the haunted looks that showed, even through the determination.

Even he wanted to just sit down and cry, to grieve for those lost, for his eye, for Miko's arm, for those who were left. The nineteen people who suddenly depended on him, who lost everything and were suddenly stranded in a strange galaxy, on a planet they had seen maybe once.

But he couldn't.

He didn't have the luxury of grieving. And neither did the others.

"I know this is going to be tough. I know that we're all still in shock." He looked around at the other sixteen depressed and shellshocked people gathered around the fire on fallen logs - a morbid parody of childhood camping.

Little Torren was clutching tightly to Captain Newkirk, unwilling to let the British man go. Dr. Waldron sat next to them and he didn't fail to notice the comforting hand Andrew had slipped behind her back. Sgt. Archer sat in front of them.

Dr. Kusanagi sat quietly staring, her gaze lost in the flames, her heavily bandaged arm clutched close, Dr. Keller next to her.

Reed and Dr. LaRoche sat next to each other and Master Chief Robeson and Kaufman sat on the ground in front of their little log.

Dr. Dustin, the Canadian archaeologist, Dr. LeBeau, from medicinal production, and Dr. Vildra from botany were sitting together, reminiscing.

Sgt. Williams, Sgt. Hoover, and Lt. Perry sat together quietly, Sophie Hoover with some piece of machinery or other.

Almost all were bruised and bandaged. The explosion that had sent the shrapnel through the gate in the split second before it shut down had left none of them unscathed.

"Wait," Dr. McKay interrupted impatiently, "that's impossible. If Atlantis exploded, the gate would've shut down immediately, not sent shrapnel through before closing."

"Miko said that the shrapnel must've rode the wave of the closing wormhole, or something like that. It's pretty hard to know what happened with no scientific equipment. All we know is that when the gate finally closed we were left with little injuries, and a hell of a lot of metal scrap."

"But..." he faltered under their piercing gazes, "We're going to have to keep going. We can't just... stop."

They didn't interrupt, the night uncomfortably silent as he tried to say his words.

"Listen, I'm used to giving orders and coming up with tactics, but this... This is different. I'm going to need everyone's help. I can't think of everything. In fact," he gave a slight nervous smile, "I'm pretty sure I'd be hard pressed to come up with ANY idea right now. So... what do you guys think? Anything at all."

It was quiet for a moment more before Keller spoke up hesitantly, "What," she paused before trying again, "We're going to have to think of things we haven't had to worry about before. Hygiene, children, medicine. And we're going to have to become closer than we were on Atlantis. Or we're just going to die out."

He nodded thoughtfully, "Good thinking, doctor."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Keller exclaimed, enthusiastically, "We keep distances with titles. We need to get rid of them. I'm Jennifer. Or Jenn. we can't be 'doctor this' or 'major that'."

He nodded, seeing her wisdom. They wouldn't be able to repopulate if they weren't comfortable with each other. "Alright, Jenn. Good start. You and Ollie," Dr. Waldron sat up attentively at her name, "work on the hygiene and such." Keller gave him a nervous smile. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah, uh," Kaufman - Mal, Evan corrected himself - raised a tentative hand, "What about the gate?"

Lorne frowned, "What about it?"

"How are we going to protect ourselves? It's not like we have our radios or GDOs or even an iris to close."

"We need signals for incoming teams," Simon Reed agreed.

"OK, but I don't think that's really our highest priority right now. We'll have standard watches until we can figure something out. Sgt. Archer," he paused, "sorry, Charles, right?"

"Charlie," the British man corrected with a slight smile.

"Charlie, OK, you and Andrew," he gestured at Captain Newkirk, "are in charge of figuring out how we're going to deal with that."

"We might need Dr. Kusanagi for that," Andrew's sharp accent pointed out politely.

"Miko," a quiet voice floated over the fire, "My name is Miko."

Lorne gave her a big, reassuring grin, "Miko, are you alright to help them with that project?"

"Of course," she sounded almost insulted.

"We can work on food and medicine," Dr. Brigeet Vildra volunteered, gesturing to herself and Dr. David LeBeau.

"I'll help," Dr. Val Dustin raised a hand, "I studied a bit of ancient agriculture at university. At the very least, I'll be an able body to help." She smiled at the two botonists.

"Sophie," Sgt. Hoover sat up straighter under his gaze, "are you still working on the broken equipment? How much more is there?"

"I am, sir, and there's enough to keep me busy. Unfortunantly, I don't think there's a huge chance of fixing most of it. It's pretty much just scrap."

He absorbed that piece of information and suddenly asked, "What can you do?"

She frowned, "Sir?"

"If we give you all non-essential equipment, electronics... What can you do with it?"

"What do you need me to do, sir? I've studied automotive engineering, electrical engineering, metallurgy... Dr. Zelenka was having me work on Ancient tech the last few days, just enough to get my feet wet. I've worked on 302s and Blackhawks." He knew this list wasn't to brag, but to try and give him an accurate idea of her skills. She grinned, "What do you need me to make?"

"Everything. Anything."

She nodded slowly, "I'll try."

"That's all I ask." He looked at the gathered. "Freddy, Jack... I want the two of you to take a look around. Start at the caverns and work your way out. Find weak spots, ambush points, anything that can help us defend our position better. Find a quick, defendable way to the gate. Find places to set up sniper points in the trees. Anything. Work with the Brits on gate defenses, and I want an inventory by lunch tomorrow."

He was aware at how much work he had just laid on them, but they nodded just the same, "Yes, sir."

"Everyone has assignments, so we all have work to do. We have enough MREs to last a few weeks, but I want you three," he pointed at the botonists and their pet archaeologist, "to focus on food production. Get with one of the marines to help with some hunting. As soon as we get moved into the caverns, my team and I are going to begin going to our old allies and see what we have to do for help."

"I'd like to go with you."

He turned in surprise to Ollie, "What?"

"If you're going to go out, you need someone with combat experience to patch you up. We don't have an infirmary here and the caves are a good half-mile from the gate. Time is important. I was a combat medic before Atlantis. I can help."

"But you're a pathologist," Mal said, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't claim I was Jennifer," she said sharply, "but I can shoot straight, keep calm under fire, and patch up soldiers."

Lorne saw the wisdom in her suggestion, "Alright, Ol." He looke around at the nervous civilians. "But, I want everybody to train. I want EVERYONE shooting straight and keeping their heads under fire. We'll train in shifts." Everyone was silent again. "That's it, guys. Go to bed, get to know each other, do what you want. We'll start everything in the morning."

Almost everyone got up and began takling, excited at the prospective future, but subdued at the memory of fallen comrades. Dr. Keller took Miko to the 'infirmary tent' and Lorne followed her. "Doc." She whirled around and he smiled, "Sorry, Jenn. I want you," he stumbled, "I want you to be my second. If anything should happen, I think you would be a good replacement."

"God, Evan, don't even."

"Please, Jenn. We have to think about this."

She sighed and practically pushed Miko into the tent. "Alright. Fine. But you'd better promise me that won't be for a long time."

He smiled, "I'll go my best."

She smiled back and disappeared into the tent to take care of her patients.

"Sir," a heavily accented British voice startled him, "Sorry. I was just. About the." Andrew fumbled, "What about the funerals?"

"Right." Lorne sighed, "They're ready, then?"

The man nodded, barely visible in just the light from the lanterns inside the tent, "Almost. Definitely tomorrow."

"Alright. Tomorrow at dusk."

"Andrew," Keller's voice came from just behind Lorne, quietly bidding the Brit closer, "You'd better start digging two more. Mark and Jana don't look so good."

He nodded solmnly, "I'll get Charlie."

She nodded silently and disappeared again. "Andrew," Evan called to him, "Listen, if you want I can get-"

"No. No, sir. It's an honor."

He studied the special ops man's face in the dim light. It was open and honest - it really was an honor for the two Brits to dig the graves of their comrades. "Alright."

Andrew nodded with a wan smile and left the dim light, heading toward the fire where Ollie and Charlie were trying to get Torren to sleep.

The others were away from the fire, broken into odd groups, stashed away in haphazardly constructed sleeping arrangements. There had been two tarps and only a few blankets shoved through the gate before Atlantis was destroyed. The tarps were constructed into the Med tent, the blankets used to help with the wounded. They didn't have much - he didn't need an inventory to tell him that."

The next day was harder; the first of many long mornings before caffeine withdrawl would be complete. Breakfast was quick, heated up MREs before everyone divided up to get to work.

It was their first official day on their own and he could tell that it had begun to hit everyone. No one talked throughout the subdued breakfast. Even Torren was unusually silent, taking the bottle of formula from the two cans Jenn had shoved in her med supplies without complaint.

Jenn came up to him as he was finishing the last of his meal, idly shaking his juice pack. "Private Lewis died in the night. Lieutenant Drivden is getting better, though. I have high hopes for him."

"Good news about Drivden. I think Lewis'... arrangements will be ready by nightfall."

She nodded, turning to stare into the last remaining embers of the fire with him, "I sent Ollie to the nearby stream to collect samples. Our medical scanner is still working fine so we can at least test toxicity."

"Well, that's good. When do you think you'll be ready to move into the caverns?"

She shrugged, "It all depends on Mark. He's getting better and if he makes it through tonight, I'd give him a seventy percent chance of fully recovering. It'll probably be a few days until he's stable enough to be moved."

"Alright," he downed the last of his juice in a quick gulp, "That'll give the guys enough time to finish with the caves I'm going to go see what they've been doing. You're in charge."

She gave him a sour look, but said nothing as he walked away from her.

Their first mission ended up being just after lunch on that first day. The only place Lorne could think of going was the one ally Lorne knew they could count on. M7G-677.

They were happy to see the Lantians, welcoming them with open arms. "It is good to see you, Major Lorne. It has been many days. I hope you are well, but you seem injured." Keras said, casting a concerned gaze upon Evan's face.

"Actually, that's why we're here." And he told them the tale of Atlantis' demise.

They didn't have much to trade and, in the end, the children ended up just giving them what they needed, asking only for their friendship. And a few bars of chocolate Reed happened to have on him. "You understand, we can't take you in, Major Lorne."

"I understand. It's too risky. Thanks, though, for the supplies." They shook hands and Reed gave them the address for the Alpha Site. "We don't have much, but we'll always do anything we can for you."

Keras smiled and replied, "I understand. You are our oldest allies, and we shall remain that way. Good health to you and yours."

Lorne smiled sadly.

The funerals were a somber affair. Keller spoke about Jana's love for the service, Waldron spoke about Radek's fondness for micheviousness and Kaufman spoke about Mikey's love for his fiancee, who had gone down with Atlantis. Lorne spoke about honoring those who had been on Atlantis, and who had given their lives for them.

They buried the three in the graves the Brits had dug, their backs to the waiting fourth one.

On the fifth night, they discovered the pterodactyls.

Or, more accurately, the pterodactyls found them.

One brave pterodactyl flew into camp while Sgt. Freddy Williams was struggling to relight the fire in the waining light. Master Chief Marie Robeson, sitting nearby, with Simon Reed and Mal Kaufman, mocking the sargent's firelighting abilities, was caught up by its claws and lifted into the air with a brief, frightened squeal.

"Shoot it! Shoot it! Shoot the goddamned thing, Mal!" She shouted to the gawking men below.

The three jumped to their feet and grabbed their berettas, taking careful aim.

The large bird dropped the woman after the fourth shot. She hit the ground with a thud and lay still.

"Don't worry. It's a clean break. That should heal fine. Her shoulders should heal before her leg, but I'm going to keep a close eye on the wounds, just in case." Dr. Keller closed the med kit with a zip and grinned at Sgt. Kaufman in an attempt to calm his nerves. "She's sedated now, but she has no head wound. She was very lucky." His nervous eyes darted toward her bed and she chuckled. "You can sit with her all you want."

He practically leaped at her bed and Jenn turned her attention to Evan.

"She really was lucky, wasn't she?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah," she turned so they were both facing the couple, shoulder to shoulder. "I thought they scratched the dinosaur planet off the list of potential alpha sites."

"Apparently this isn't the dinosaur planet."

She raised a concerned eyebrow, "And they're scared of the fire?"

"Yeah. Freddy finally got the fire going and we haven't seen anymore. We may have to move into the caves a bit sooner than we anticipated, though."

She nodded, taking it for the warning it was. "We'll be ready when we need to be."

The first thing the boys built with the supplies had been a thick wooden trunk. 'For practice' they claimed innocently. Apparently, Dr. LaRoche had taken woodworking classes in his spare time, because it was beautiful. In it, the group had placed items of any importance. Various national flag insignia from their uniforms and hastily grabbed pictures featuring loved ones were glued to the lid by the sap the botonists had managed to make into glue in a process which, when explained to Lorne, he had tuned out and daydreamed thorugh, if he were totally honest. Inside were placed the gifts the children given them - needles, cloth, small spools of thread - and the makeup compact Dr. Waldron had found, spare ammo wrapped in spare blankets, and, in a pile in the corner, their radios.

They weren't needed as they made it a point to always be together and to never stray farther than hearing range without alerting someone they were going. It was like being back in grade school.

The trunk was the first thing moved into the caverns a full week after arriving on the planet.

The entire first week was full of discoveries. The water was clean and drinkable, the pterodactyls stayed away from fire and bright light, if sewing were an Olympic event, Brigeet Vildra would take home the gold, the soil was no good for planting crops, and Jack Perry had always wanted to be a singer.

The last discovery had come as the entire group woke one night to his (god awful) rendention of Johnny Cash. He hadn't even woken up.

In additin to Jack's sleep-singing, they also found that Evan's sleepwalking hadn't completely disappeared when he woke up in the middle of the stream. He made it back to camp shaking, but safe, pawning off his shivers on the cold water, hiding the real reason behind bravado and self-depreciating jokes. In his dream, he was back to when Carson was still alive, reliving that day moment for moment except for one very important detail: his dream-self had put down the paints and went fly fishing.

"Because I said so, that's why!"

"Oh, nice answer, DAD!"

Lorne sighed, "Because it's too dangerous. Just have everyone write down the addresses they remember for sure and we'll start there."

"...No random dialing?" The last ray of hope fell from Mal's face.

"We're not making prank calls, we're trying to trade! And one word: spacegates."

Mal shuddered, "Fine. Oh, and everything's ready and waiting."

Evan smiled at the younger man, "Really? That was fast."

Mal grinned at him, "Can we move in today, huh, dad can we?"

The cave was clean, the trunk placed in the back of the main cave near the entrance of the 'living cavern'. The 'Three Amigos', as they demanded to be called, had spent hours carefully cleaning out the caves and making sure that everything was safe and ready for the group to move in.

Ignoring the murmurs of appreciation from the others, Mal smiled broadly, "This isn't the best part. We found another alcove off the main one. It's an indoor waterfall. It's not huge, but it's big enough so we don't have to leave the cave for water or anything."

"Kaufman, we live behind a waterfall," Reed said dryly, "We wouldn't have to leave anyway."

"Sure, but I was kind of thinking: shower."

Lorne dutifully stood guard as the first citizen of their little cavern system undressed to step into the 'shower'.

"You'd better not be peeking."

"Jenn, I'm insulted that you'd think I would do that."

"And I'm a little insulted you're not even trying."

He chuckled, then tensed as she let out a strangled scream. "What? What's the matter, are you OK?" He turned, but was hesitant to move the wooden partition they had installed.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she was quick to reassure him. "It's just... really, really cold."

He let out a relieved laugh and looked around their cavern.

Everyone was gathered around the fire, swapping stories and ideas, content and safe.

He saw how they were still in mourning - for their city, for their friends, for the life they'd never lead. They were cut off from everything they had known. They had no equipment, no science labs, no... anything. Atlantis was gone. The Daedelaus was destroyed. Earth was... Earth was cut off. They were alone.

But, looking around at the faces lit by the afternoon light filtering through the rushing water and the orange glow of the fire, he had to admit - they weren't going down without a fight.

That night, Jack had begun singing again - opera, this time - but Freddy quickly beat it out of him.

After falling asleep again after the not-so-stirring rendention of Phantom of the Opera, complete with the high parts, he awoke to a heavy hand landing on his shoulder. "Sir?"

"I'm alright, Andrew. Just-"

"Sleepwalking, again?" His bemusement failed to fully cover his concern.

"Yeah. Don't worry. I'm fine."

He shook off the Brit's hand and made his way back to where the others were sleeping and laid back down in his spot next to Jenn and tried to go back to sleep.

"None of this explains why you became mercenaries," Sheppard said, accusingly.

"Right." Lorne took a deep breath and started again, "It was about two months later, when things were really bad..."

"Nothing will grow." Vildra said sadly as she dragged her fingers lazily through the soil, as if she could show him the lack of nutrients just by doing so.

Lorne sighed and plopped down beside the botonist, "What about hunting?"

She shook her head, her fingers still trailing through the dirt idly, "Nothing bigger than rabbits and those are sparse. Unless you want us to try and catch a pterodactyl."

He shook his head in response and forced himself up, stumbling only slightly. He helped the botonist to her feet and together they staggered back to the caves.

No one was moving. Moving required energy and energy came from food. They had rationed out their MREs to last almost double the time they were supposed to. With no crops or supplies, no planet would trade with them and they were starving. They had ended up handing Torren over to Keras until they could get on their feet and feed him properly. The children had done what they could, gladly taking Torren for the time being, but they had their own children to feed, and couldn't support the Lantians. "Come on," he said, standing over an unmoving Reed, "Let's go. We have to go out and trade."

"Trade what?" Reed mumbled, but staggered to his feet and made his way over to Kaufman.

"Jenn, we'll be back as soon as we can." She flopped a hand at him to show she had heard, but did nothing more.

The address was one they had gotten from another unsuccessful trade, but they were desperate.

They met with the chief of the tribe and plates of food which they politely refused. Lorne had made it clear that he wouldn't eat until the others did and his team had followed his lead.

"Chief Atmir, please, we need food and bandages. That's all we ask."

"But what do you have to trade to us in return? Hmm? You have nothing I want on your person."

"Dr. Waldron is a gifted healer," her eyes slid over to him, a raised eyebrow questioning that statement, but he ignored her, "She can help your healers with anything they need."

"We already have healers. What else do you offer?"

Lorne sighed and unclipped his P90, "This weapon. It's a good one."

"We have no enemies, Major."

"Please, Chief Atmir, my people are starving." Hell, at this point he would SELL Ollie for food. He was sure she wouldn't mind that much.

"We do not trade people, Major."

"Uh," guessing at the reply and the piercing glare Ollie was sending in his direction, he must've said that idea out loud. "I'm desperate, Chief," he said, tactfully changing the subject and trying hard to avoid Ollie's glare of death, "and my people are desperate. Please. We would do anything."

At that moment, a man burst into the tent, rambling loudly about the sanctity of their planet and how it was now soiled by the outsiders. "Mareer! Hold your tongue! These are our guests!"

"They are unclean! And now, so are you!" He pulled out a knife and rushed at the Chief. He got in one swing before Reed and Kaufman subdued him. Ollie was at the Chief's side in an instant, her hands already pulling out bandages and cleansing cloths for the man's arm.

The Chief stared hard at her, "Perhaps you are worthy of being bought."

She narrowed her eyes at the bandage she was wrapping, "Why, thank you, Chief Atmir, but Major Lorne was just trying to demonstrate to you the desperation of our people."

Quick thinking, Lorne had to admit.

As Mareer was forced from the room, Chief Atmir turned to Lorne and, with a nervous laugh, said, "I'd pay you five bushels more if you would make sure he wouldn't bother our village anymore."

It was if a sudden lightbulb went on over his head. Turning to Reed he saw the same idea had occured to the lieutenant.

He knew it was just a joke, but there was suddenly a light at the end of the tunnel they had found themselves in.

The only downside - could they live with themselves?

"This is a bad idea."

"I know."

"A very bad idea."

"I know."

"A seriously, hideously, really bad idea."

"Kaufman!" Lorne whirled around to face him, "I know!"

He turned back to face Reed who was holding a kneeling, squirming Mareer. He ignored the fidgting Kaufman and pulled out his beretta, taking aim.

As Mareer's eyes widened in fright, Reed took a few, cautious steps away. "We're not going to tell anybody about this, right?" Kaufman's nervous voice floated to him.

"Right."

He took the shot.

They made it through the gate, dragging two bushels of not-apples, two of not-deer meat, three of varous grains and fruits, and several jugs of wine/milk/cider on weird sleds the natives had given them. Keller's eyes widened as they set everything down inside the enterance. "How-?" Keller asked, astonished.

"They knew we needed help and Ollie's medical expertise was greatly appreciated."

The Irish woman in question gave him a sidelong glance but held her tongue. The three men had not told her how they had managed to get the food, and she had not asked, their hardened eyes enough for her to not ask questions. Instead she blurted out, "Evan tried to sell me."

"Are you guys tired?" Lorne asked, raising an eyebrow as Teyla stiffled a yawn and Ronon elbowed a now snoring McKay.

"Maybe, just a little," Sheppard admitted sheepishly. Lorne's story was quite interesting, but they had had a long day.

"You can sleep with the others. Just lay down where ever you find a pallet. Nobody will mind."

"Are you sure?" Teyla asked politely as her teammates were already making their way back to the sleeping quarters.

"Of course. A few of us will be up later than usual waiting for the team to come back. There are plenty of empty spaces."

She gave him a tired smile, "Good night, Evan."

"Good night, Teyla."

The morning found everyone around a fire outside their cave, the marines heartily telling McKay stories of their adventures as they ate.

"Seriously, Doc. All by herself. If it weren't for Little Miko here, we never would've gotten out!" He slapped 'Little Miko' on the back and she gave him a look that left no misinterpretation.

"Little Miko? She got you out?"

"Yeah! Took on all of 'em! Armed just with a knife! It was amazing!"

Truth be told, Rodney McKay was a little afraid of Miko Kusanagi. The marines laughed at what she had done, as if they were... proud. How could they be proud of this? They had turned Miko, shy, sweet Miko, into a killer.

His mouth dropped open in confused shock but, before he could say anything, some doctor or other ran into their camp like hell was on his heels.

"Evan! We made a mistake! It wasn't the priest!"

"What?" Lorne was off his seat in a moment to meet the scientist.

"It was a twin! Now they've sent word they're going to invade if we don't surrender."