This chapter was written by Barcardicider. I had to guess what the plot was and although I guessed wrong we both liked the plot I invented and so … with her permission… I have written the wrong answer and here it is. This first chapter is hers

and my inspiration. The chapters that follow are mine. I hope you enjoy and join me in thanks to both Barcardicider and Jayne Perry for beta, and Leesa Perrie for grammar and all three for support and basic idiot spotting.

The Cynical Soldier

Chapter One;

He grunted in pain as he wrapped his injured hand around an old tree root, the sound lost in the howl of the wind and pounding of the heavy rain. He pulled himself further up the muddy slope, his feet fighting for purchase on the slippery ground. His other hand snagged a young sapling and with the last of his strength pulled himself to the top of the slope. He staggered to his feet and moved to one of the large, looming trees that grew atop the slope, and leant his back against it, his chest heaving as he gulped in air. The tree gave no shelter from the unrelenting wind and rain.

He looked round the trunk at the direction he had come. He looked down at the slope that he had slithered and slipped up and noted that the rain had already washed away his trail. He tried to peer through the rain, but could make nothing out, the visibility poor. He lent back into the tree trunk, his breathing less ragged. He looked down at his battered hand and cursed; he gingerly gripped his wrist with the other hand and brought the injured hand up to his chest. He smiled.

His tormentors wouldn't be pursuing him, even if the wind and the rain had not put them off, the fact that he had killed one of them surely would have. He had killed the creatures in the forest for food and their pelts, but he had always regretted taking their lives and he killed them quick. A pull and a twist, a quick but deep slash across the throat, a moment's pain and then nothing.

But the men that had tormented him, those he had dreamt about killing and it gave him satisfaction that he had killed one of them slowly, painfully and at such close range that he could see the results in all its glorious detail. His smile widened as he remembered how the blood had coated his hands, his clothes. Confident in the certainty that they wouldn't torment him anymore because he had just changed the rules.

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"Unscheduled off-world activation."

Weir got up from her desk and walked into the Control Room.

"IDC coming through," the technician looked up as Weir stepped closer to the console, "It's Major Lorne."

"Open the shield."

The shield dissolved in a shimmer of light, a few seconds later Major Lorne stepped out of the gate, the wormhole disengaging behind him.

Weir was already half way down the stairs to the gate room floor, when Major Lorne bounded up the rest to meet her.

""Doctor Weir, I've found McKay," he said.

Weir looked at him disbelievingly. "Lorne…"

"It's a long story ma'am." Lorne interrupted. He tugged at a piece of parchment from his vest, handing it to Weir.

She unrolled it. "Oh my God," she said softly, she brought her hand up to activate her radio.

"Colonel Sheppard, please gather your team and meet me in the conference room."

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"Elizabeth, what's this about?" Sheppard questioned as soon as Weir stepped through the conference room door giving Lorne a quick frown.

Weir handed Sheppard the piece of parchment Lorne had given to her.

Sheppard looked at it quizzically for a moment and then unrolled the parchment.

"Shit. You sure?" he asked Lorne, as he passed the parchment to Ronon and Teyla.

"Yes sir. Time frame fits…"

"We go now," Ronon growled.

Weir indicated that everyone should sit. "Major, from the beginning please," she pulled out a chair and sat, after a moments hesitation the others followed, leaving just Lorne standing.

Cont/d…