SGA-16 Homecoming - Book 1 of the Legacy Series

by Graham, Jo

  Ronon swung his blaster up and away, sure he was going to be too late, seeing the same thing, the faces between the leaves, and somehow Karsten kept his finger off the trigger. They locked eyes for a moment, and Ronon wondered if he looked as sick-scared as the Marine. That had been too close…

  “Jesus,” the Marine said, softly, and Sheppard said, “Come on out, kids. It’s OK.”

  His voice was only a little wrong, and Ronon took a deep breath, trying to swallow the adrenaline. That had been too close, the sort of thing you had nightmares about.

  “Hey,” Sheppard said, and the kids slipped almost silently onto the trail. Ronon couldn’t tell if they realized what had nearly happened—hoped they hadn’t, and saw the same thought in Karsten’s face. It was a boy and a girl, the boy maybe nine or ten, the girl younger, young enough to still be chewing on her thumb as she peeked from behind her brother.

  “That’s Yrran,” Jennifer said. “Rymmal’s son. And—Colonel, it’s Aari. The one who helped me escape.”

  The kids’ mother, Ronon guessed, emerging from the woods, and she looked almost as sick as the lieutenant. She grabbed both children, pulling them hard against her body, looked defiantly at the strangers.

  “You have come for Dr. Beckett.”

  “Is he all right?” Jennifer’s voice was pitched high with worry.

  “Yes, yes.” The woman’s hands tightened on the children’s shoulders. “No one has been hurt, and I do not want anyone to be—”

  Sheppard took a long breath, visibly damping down his own reaction. “We don’t want that, either. And you can help. Are there many of your people still in the compound?”

  “Some,” Aari said “Those of us who could, we slipped away, but the others… They are still there. But they will not help the Genii.”

  “How many Genii?” Sheppard asked.

  “I counted eight,” Aari answered. “Including the captain.”

  “Colonel Sheppard.” That was Teyla’s voice, crackling in their earpieces. “We have reached the ruins, and they are empty. I assume that the Genii who were reported here have gone on to the compound. Shall we join you?”

  “No,” Sheppard said. “Get back to the gate, make sure Sora doesn’t get reinforcements. We’re on the edge of the village, and about to move in. One of the locals says there were eight Genii still inside, plus I assume your guys, and they have Beckett. We’ll keep in touch.”

  “Very well, Colonel,” Teyla answered.

  For an instant, Ronon wished she was going to be with them, then put that thought aside. They had almost a dozen Marines, plus the rest of the team. That would be plenty. Particularly if there was some way to take the Genii by surprise…

  Sheppard seemed to have the same idea, because he looked back at Aari. “This leads to the main gate, right? Is there a back entrance?”

  Aari nodded, and Jennifer said, “Yes. We got out that way. It comes out right behind our tent.”

  “Good.” Sheppard looked around. “Ronon. Take three men and head for the back door. We’ll come in the front, distract them so you can get the drop on them.”

  “OK.” Ronon nodded. That was his kind of plan, nice and simple. He pointed to the men he wanted, all people he knew, had sparred with. “Dove, Estevez, Wolowitz.”

  “Dr. Keller, can you show them the way?” Sheppard asked, and Jennifer nodded. “Then go.” He looked at Ronon. “We’ll give you ten minutes to get into position, then we’ll move in.”

  “OK,” Ronon said again. He looked at Jennifer, who gave him a tight smile, and turned toward a break in the trees.

  The narrow path wound around the edges of the new-looking fence, hidden from anyone standing watch by the thick forest. The Wlanders were going to want to cut that back, Ronon thought, but right now, it was a help. The Marines moved smoothly, silently, and Jennifer pointed toward a break in the trees.

  “There.”

  Ronon slipped forward until he could see the fence. The gate wasn’t really a gate, more a section that hadn’t been finished yet, and there was nobody watching from the compound. He nodded to Dove, who took a covering position, and dashed across the narrow band of open space, fetched up with his back against the fence. He risked a quick glance inside—no one close at hand, the medical tent between them and the Genii—and waved the others across. They came in a rush, Jennifer with them, and Ronon took another cautious look. So far, so good: the Genii were clustered in the front of the tent, and it looked as though Beckett was with them, unharmed and apparently unsecured. He had his hands on top of his head, watching something Ronon couldn’t quite see. If there were still any Wlanders in the compound, they’d taken shelter, and were nowhere in sight.

  “Well?” Dove whispered. He was the senior man of the group.

  “I see them,” Ronon said. “We’re good. Now we wait for Colonel Sheppard.”

  It wouldn’t be long, he thought, and sure enough, he had counted barely a hundred heartbeats before there was a confused shouting from the compound gate. Sheppard’s voice rose over the babble, shouting for someone to hold it right there, and Ronon nudged Estevez.

  “Go.”

  The Marine started forward, crouching low, and Ronon and Dove leaned around the edges to provide cover. Luckily, no one was looking their way, and Ronon waved Wolowitz on. He was beginning to think they might get lucky, might get to Beckett and get him away before anyone spotted them—

  Dove nodded to him, and Ronon moved, heading for the nearest tent pole. It wasn’t much cover, but it was a position, and it gave him a clear shot into the compound. Sheppard and his team were clustered by the gate, in good cover, and the Genii had all their attention focused that way. But there was a man covering Beckett now—damn it—and the whole thing looked like it could degenerate into a nasty stand-off.

  “Sora!” That was Sheppard again. “Let him go.”

  “Major Sheppard.” The red-haired woman was tucked behind a stack of crates, an impossible shot for any of Sheppard’s men, and not a good one for Ronon, either. He looked at Dove, hoping his was better, and the Marine shook his head. “Where’s the rest of your team?”

  “Actually, it’s Lieutenant Colonel now,” Sheppard said. His tone was deceptively light; Ronon could hear the tension in it, but doubted any of the Genii would. “I got promoted. Looks like you did, too. Captain, is it?”

  There was no answer, and Sheppard went on. “OK. Let’s get to business. This is a mercy mission, helping out friends in trouble. No need for you to get upset about it.”

  “These are our allies,” Sora said. “It’s none of your business.”

  “Hey, they asked for help, medicines and stuff, and we’re happy to help out. We weren’t trying to mess with you—”

  “But you are here,” Sora said.

  “OK, we’ll leave,” Sheppard answered. “Just let us finish packing up our stuff, and we’ll get out of your way.”

  “You can leave,” Sora said. “But Dr. Beckett and the supplies stay behind. We can make good use of them.”

  “Sorry,” Sheppard said. “No deal.” He paused. “Just give us Dr. Beckett, and nobody gets hurt.”

  “If anyone gets hurt, it will be you,” Sora said. She paused. “Teyla Emmagan. Is she with you?”

  “Nope.” Sheppard’s lie was prompt, but not, Ronon thought, entirely plausible. “She got promoted, too.”

  “But you can get her here,” Sora said. She moved then, stepping into the open, pistol leveled directly at Beckett. “Let’s make a trade, Major—Colonel. You bring Teyla here, and you can have Dr. Beckett.”

  Ronon saw two of the Genii exchange glances, shifted his position to try to get a better shot.

  “That’s really not going to work,” Sheppard said. “Ladon’s not going to like this.”

  “You have no idea what the Chief wants,” Sora snapped. “That is my only offer, Sheppard. Get Teyla, and you can have the doctor. Otherwise—” She cocked her pistol, lifted it so that the muzzle pointed directly at Be
ckett’s head. “You have one minute to decide.”

  “I can’t do that,” Sheppard began, and Ronon took a breath.

  “Now,” he said, softly, and thumbed his blaster to stun. He didn’t want to risk Beckett getting caught in the crossfire. The Marines lunged out of cover, shouting, and Ronon fired once. The bolt struck Sora in the back, knocking her forward. The pistol cracked once, Beckett ducked—unhurt—but one of the Genii grabbed him before he could get away. There were still a couple of Genii in good cover, Ronon saw, too late; they had as good as shot as he did, and better than Sheppard’s men—

  “Hold it!” Sheppard shouted.

  The Genii who had Beckett lifted his pistol, but his expression was wary. One of the men in cover raised his head enough to peer cautiously over the sheltering stones of the wellhead. “Stalemate, Colonel.”

  “Maybe,” Sheppard said.

  “How about a deal?” the Genii called. “You take Dr. Beckett, we get the supplies. And we all walk away.”

  Ronon swore under his breath. If he’d waited just a fraction longer—but he’d had to act to save Beckett, and there’d been no way he could have seen the last few Genii.

  “All right,” Sheppard said. “It’s a deal. You first.”

  “Those men back there,” the Genii answered. “They join you first.”

  “OK.” Sheppard eased out of cover, P90 ready. “Ronon. Over here.”

  Ronon stood up all the way, twirling his blaster out of firing position, and moved quickly across the open space. The Marines followed, and then Jennifer. Rodney caught her arm, pulling her back out of the line of fire, and Sheppard nodded.

  “Your turn.”

  “Tass,” the Genii said. “Let Dr. Beckett go.”

  The stocky Genii scowled, but shoved Beckett away. The doctor staggered, but recovered his balance, and moved quickly to join the others.

  “Colonel,” he said, “we can’t afford—”

  “Later,” Sheppard said, and his tone was sharp enough to shut Beckett up completely. “All right. We’re heading for the gate. Follow us, and we’ll cut you to pieces.”

  “Agreed,” the Genii answered, and the Atlanteans began backing out the compound’s gate. Once they were in the clear, Sheppard touched his earpiece.

  “Teyla.”

  “Colonel? The gate is secure.”

  “Good. We’re coming to you. We’ve got Beckett, but we had to leave the supplies. Be ready to dial.”

  “We will be ready,” Teyla answered.

  Beckett said, “You shouldn’t have let them take the supplies. It’s not like we can get more.”

  Ronon looked at him, sweaty and disheveled and a hell of a lot angrier about the medications than about being taken hostage, and couldn’t repress a grin.

  Sheppard said, “We can’t exactly replace you, either. Besides, I’m thinking Ladon might have something to say about this.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Beckett said, unappeased, and stalked away.

  Ronon shook his head, and Sheppard looked at him.

  “Why’d you stun her?”

  He’d hoped to put that question off for a little bit, at least until he could come up with a better answer. He shrugged. “Didn’t want to risk hitting Beckett.”

  Sheppard sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah,” Ronon said. He paused. “I wish I’d killed her, too.”

  * * *

  The debriefing went about as well as Ronon had expected, which was not particularly well. Luckily, it was Sheppard and Beckett who did most of the talking, like the two halves of the chorus in an old play, while Rodney sucked down coffee and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Ronon sympathized: they’d already said everything that needed to be said twenty minutes ago—we got Beckett back, the Genii got our supplies, we need to ask Ladon Radim to give them back and maybe shoot Sora into the bargain—and this was just the repeat. He was really beginning to regret that he hadn’t shot the Genii woman, wanted to go work off some of the frustration before he ate…

  “I still think Ladon’s going to want to stay on our good side,” Sheppard said, for the fourth time.

  “And he has a personal obligation to Dr. Beckett,” Teyla said. “He saved Ladon’s sister’s life.”

  “Ah, yes.” Woolsey looked at his notes. “Dahlia Radim. And you think this will make a difference to him?”

  “She’s been appointed his Chief Scientist,” Sheppard said. “So she’s also important to his government.”

  Woolsey nodded thoughtfully. “Very well. The next step, then, is mine. I will contact Ladon and see if we can’t negotiate the return of our supplies.” He shuffled his papers into a tidy pile, slipped them into his folder. “Thank you all. This was a most—enlightening—session.”

  McKay rolled his eyes at that, but Ronon couldn’t repress a grin. He was beginning to get used to the little bureaucrat’s sense of humor—it was almost Satedan at times. He pushed himself to his feet, already running through the list of friends who were likely to be off-duty and ready to spar. Not Teyla, she was likely to be in a bad mood and he didn’t need that much of a workout, and not Sheppard, either, he was looking beat already. Maybe Harris, or the new guy, Nguyen…

  “Mr. Dex,” Woolsey said. “If I might have a word with you?”

  Ronon paused. He hadn’t thought Woolsey would blame him for not killing Sora, but maybe he’d underestimated him. “Sure.”

  “Thank you.” Woolsey gestured for him to take a seat, and, reluctantly, Ronon did so. Sitting, the size difference was not so apparent—and that was why he did it, Ronon thought. Sneaky little bastard. Diplomat. He waited, folding his hands on the tabletop.

  “I would like your opinion of the Genii,” Woolsey said.

  “They’re Genii,” Ronon said, and wished the words unspoken. There were times when it didn’t pay to play dumb.

  Woolsey gave a thin smile. “Yes. I’m beginning to see that.” He paused. “However. Like Teyla, you have a unique perspective on them. I’ve talked to her. Now I’m asking you.”

  Ronon took a deep breath. A part of him still wanted to shrug off the question, deny that he knew anything of use, but he owed the Taur’i more than that. They’d let him get this far—Carter would have had him as one of her officers—and he needed to give them a proper answer. “The Genii. We didn’t have that much to do with them on Sateda. Their deal was, they met other worlds at the same level. So they were simple farmers when they dealt with Athos, and they had radios and rifles when they traded with us. Our leaders didn’t trust them because of it—they thought it was better to show what you had, hope that it sent the Wraith to easier worlds.” He stopped, not knowing what else to say. Sateda’s loss was still bitter on his tongue: yeah, it was great to look strong, until the Wraith decided to make an example of you.

  Woolsey nodded slowly. “So you’re saying that the Genii mirror their opposite numbers, present themselves as equals when they come to trade.”

  “Yeah. Or they used to.” Ronon frowned, trying to pull together scattered impressions. He’d never liked the Genii, never thought much about them beyond that, beyond what everybody knew, but now that he actually focused on them, there was more to say. “That was under Cowen. Ladon—he’s been more open about what they have. I mean, they still keep secrets, but they’re not hiding and pretending to be farmers as much. That may just be because he was dealing with us, and he knew there wasn’t any point in hiding—he’d probably pretend they were more advanced, talking to you, not less.”

  “You don’t like him,” Woolsey said. It was not a criticism, Ronon realized, merely a statement of fact.

  “I don’t. But mostly I don’t trust him.”

  “Why not?”

  Ronon blinked. “Because—” The words came slowly, as he felt his way through the tangle of feelings, sorting out good sense from irrational anger, doubt from fear. “He’s Genii. The Genii want to be the dominant power here—if it wasn’t for the Wraith, they’d already be that. We, Atlan
tis, we’re in their way. We may be useful now, but sometime they’re going to try to get rid of us. And we’d better be ready when they do.”

  Woolsey nodded again, his face thoughtful. “You don’t think they would make a permanent alliance?”

  “No.” Ronon paused. “I don’t know. It would depend.”

  “Yes.” Woolsey smiled then, the expression wry. “I suppose it would.” He pushed back his chair. “Thank you, Mr. Dex. That was helpful.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ronon followed him out of the briefing room, wondering if it had been much help. He wasn’t a politician, he was better at hitting things—except, actually, he did have something to say about it, about the Genii. And Woolsey had known to ask. It was an odd feeling, uncomfortable, as though something long sealed had cracked, and he shook himself. A sparring session, that was what he needed. But it wouldn’t make this go away.

  * * *

  Colonel Steven Caldwell didn’t like the situation at all. “Are you certain you don’t want me to stay?” he asked Mr. Woolsey. “You know, if this thing with the Genii escalates, and the Daedalus is halfway home, we won’t be able to get back here in ten minutes. There’s six days at the top where we won’t even get a relayed transmission.”

  “I’m quite aware of that, Colonel,” Woolsey replied tranquilly. “We’ll be fine.”

  Sheppard didn’t look quite so sanguine, but his eyes met Caldwell’s with a slight shrug. “The Genii grabbing your people…” Caldwell began again.

  “That situation didn’t escalate,” Woolsey said. “And frankly, Colonel, if we held the Daedalus here every time we had an incident, you’d be sitting in orbit all the time. The Hammond should be here in eleven days. It’s probably best to stick to the schedule, unless there is some overwhelming reason not to.”

  Sheppard shrugged again. “We can handle the Genii,” he said. “They don’t have any ships, and we’re not going to make the same mistake twice, letting them through the gate without searching them.”