Stargate Atlantis: Darts

Attack

John looked at the sloping wall above him, studying the swirling decorative patterns. They were curved in cross-section and stuck out about three-quarters of an inch. He could do it, but not in boots, and in default of climbing shoes, bare feet would have to do.

John unlaced his right boot, took it off then his sock and stuck the sock inside the boot.  He drew back his arm and threw the boot up over the railing. There was a muffled thud, a squeak and Rodney's face appeared above him.

"Oh, thanks for the warning, Sheppard!" he said angrily.

"Sorry!" John called.  "Incoming!" he yelled as he hurled the other boot skywards. Rodney quickly ducked out of the way.

John flexed his bare toes to test his grip, wiped his hands off on his t-shirt and began to climb.  It wasn't the most testing climb of his life, but his fingers and toes were beginning to feel the strain and he was glad that he was nearly able to reach out for the railing above him, when suddenly there was a raucous screeching noise, the sound of rushing wind and flapping wings, something began to beat at his head and shoulders and he felt the stabbing of a large beak.

Sheppard lost his grip, slithered helplessly down the side of the tower and was just able to stop himself on the ledge, with a bone-jarring impact through both feet.  He held up one arm in an attempt to fend off whatever was attacking him and closed both eyes tightly, dreading the creature attacking his face.

Then there were three loud reports, and a startled shrieking which faded into the distance as John's attacker flew away.

"Did you see that thing?!" yelled Rodney, waving his Beretta wildly

No, I was too busy trying to stop it pecking my eyes out, John thought. He said: "Have you put the safety on, McKay?"

"Yes, I've put the safety on," he said indignantly, "And, you're welcome, by the way!"

"Thank you, Rodney," said John.

"Hey, are you OK?"

"Yeah, think so," replied John. He could feel a sharp pain in the back of his neck and blood was running down his right forearm from several deep beak-marks.

His radio suddenly came to life.

"Control room to Colonel Sheppard."

"This is Colonel Sheppard," he replied.

"I'm detecting weapons fire in the lower city, sir."

"Uh, yeah, that's OK, Chuck," said John. "I'm down here with Dr McKay doing some...repairs."

"You need backup, sir?"

"No, we're good."

"OK, then."

John sighed and looked again at the climb above him. This was not how he'd imagined his day off, perched on a narrow ledge, on the way to being soaked to the skin, his blood mingling with the steady rainfall. 

He began to climb again and this time reached the top without incident.

**********************************

When he had first clambered onto the balcony, Rodney quickly saw the problem; something had torn off a light-fitting and had continued to tear away at the wall with a sharp implement, drawing out cables and insulation in order to construct the large nest that filled the whole back of the area.  Rodney guessed that the sharp implement had been a beak and immediately decided that he definitely did not want to meet its owner.  The nest was partially burnt and although there was no trace of the dart, it must have been the impact of the naquadah tip on a live cable that caused the explosion.

It was at that moment that he heard the bird's raucous cries and rushed over to see John's fall and continuing attack by the giant yellow bird.  He momentarily panicked, thought about throwing things at it and then, fumbling for his Beretta, fired three shots into the air.

"What the hell was that thing?" John said as he finally climbed over the railing and slumped, exhausted, onto the floor of the balcony.

"Well, to me it looked a lot like Big Bird," said Rodney.

"Big bird?" repeated John.

"Big Bird from Sesame Street. Except less..." he paused, "Less aerodynamically challenged." He ripped open a pocket of his tac vest and took out the small first aid kit.

"Less inclined to teach you to count and more psychotic!" said John.

"Well, it's certainly made a mess up here," said McKay, gesturing to the nest of cables and beginning to clean the gash in the back of Sheppard's neck.

"Leave it, McKay, it's fine," squirmed John.

"Oh, yes, it's fine if having blood running down the back of your neck is fine!" ranted Rodney. "Just sit still and let me do this, Colonel Die-Hard-with-a-vengeance!"

He stuck a band-aid on John's neck and transferred his attention to the wounds in John's forearm.

"Some of these need stitches," he said.  "You'll have to tell Keller about Big Bird."

"I can say it was some kind of Sea Eagle!" said John, defensively.

"Oh no," smirked Rodney, dabbing with an antiseptic wipe, "You don't get a manly opponent. Not with yellow fluffy feathers still stuck in your vest." He held one up as evidence and twirled it between finger and thumb.

"So, what do we do about that?" John jerked his head towards the nest.

"Nothing," Rodney replied succinctly. "I'll just make sure there's no power going to it and then send a team down to clear it up."

"And I'll send a protection team," added John, scanning the sky uneasily.  "You'd better do a quick fix and we'll get out of here. I don't want any more visits from our friend."