Stargate Atlantis: Emerald Isle

Chapter 12 - Demonstration

The following morning John sent a grumbling Rodney out to find a suitable target for him to shoot. It was a grey, drizzly day and Rodney returned, damp and complaining an hour later, having persuaded Vorra to part with a rutabaga type vegetable that she was about to cut up into a stew. He had made his way out through the gates and down the hill to perch his rutabaga on a rock that he estimated was about two hundred metres from the outer rampart.

"You'll just have to hope it's still there later," he said, crossly, holding up his damp cape in front of the fire. "Something'll probably come along and eat it. And you shouldn't be shooting, anyway. The recoil on those things is fierce."

"Can you hit a target at two hundred metres?" John asked, pointedly.

"You know very well I couldn't hit a barn door at two hundred metres, Sheppard!" replied Rodney. "I'm only thinking of you - Breesha's going to tie you to your bed!"

The door curtain was moved aside and Coll entered, followed by Breesha and Vorra. The women squatted by the fire, as usual, adding sticks to it and poking it into more of a blaze as if to show John and Rodney how they should have been tending it. John gestured to Coll to sit on the bed, with the P90 between them. Coll looked excited, as if he were about to receive a treat.

John took his arm out of its sling (Breesha narrowed her eyes at him) picked up the weapon and took out the magazine, showing Coll the rounds and then mimed them flying through the air. Rodney smirked at John's sound effects. Coll looked interested.

Then he put the magazine back and showed Coll the four others he'd had in his tac vest, pointing to the rounds and saying, "That's all there is." He wanted to get across that it wasn't a magic weapon that would last forever, but a finite resource. Coll nodded, but John wasn't convinced he'd understood.

"OK," said John standing up, P90 in his hands. It felt strange holding it wearing his Iron Age clothes. "I think we're ready for our demo."

He stepped out into the dreary day and everyone followed. The women put their cloaks over their heads and John could hear Breesha grumbling under her breath and Vorra agreeing. They made their way out through the inner gate and along the gap between the ramparts to one of the watchtowers. At the top several of Coll's warriors were lounging against the walls. They straightened up when they saw their chieftain and nudged each other, grinning when they saw John's weapon. John wondered what they expected to happen.

He saw the men were carrying their spears and thought he'd offer them a challenge. Going to the outer wall of the tower, John peered down the hill through the fine rain. He could see Rodney's target, sitting on its rock. So could Vorra, who pointed and spoke crossly, glaring at Rodney.

John pointed to one of their spears and then to the rutabaga on its perch. The men all snorted with laughter - nobody could hit that.

John gave another go ahead gesture, saying, "C'mon, have a go, just for comparison!"

One of the warriors shrugged, nodded, then waved everyone back to create some space. He raised his spear, drew it back over his shoulder and threw in a smooth, powerful motion. Coll and the other warriors gave a rumble of appreciation, clapping the man on the back. It was obviously a good throw, but John could see that it had landed less than halfway to his target.

John prepared to fire. He widened his stance, made sure he was stable and began to raise the weapon to his shoulder.

"Wait a minute!" Rodney stopped him and took the folds of John's cape, rearranging them and bunching them up to protect his injured shoulder. "Go on, then, get into trouble!" he said.

"C'mon, McKay, you know this'll be fun," grinned John.

Rodney moved away and put his hands over his ears, motioning to the other observers to do the same.