Casualties of War

by Elizabeth Christensen

  The noise repeated, and she caught a tiny blur of motion off to her right. Both she and Ronon dropped into a crouch to avoid giving away their presence. A creature ducked around the hill and sniffed at the moss on the trunk of a nearby tree. It appeared similar to a game animal her people had hunted on Athos -but smaller, standing only as high as her waist. She considered it a blessing; if luck had deserted them completely, they might have found this planet barren of any food sources.

  Ronon advanced into the clearing without a sound, drawing his blaster from its holster. He took careful aim and-

  "Stop! Name yourselves."

  Instinctively the Satedan brought his weapon to bear as he whirled toward the voice. Teyla extended a calming hand. A local populace could be an even greater blessing to them. "We are lost travelers," she called into the woods.

  To her surprise, a group of eight men and women materialized out of the trees, emerging from behind boulders and climbing down from branches. She identified them as hunters upon seeing the spears and bows they carried.

  Ronon looked impressed that the group had escaped his detection, though not impressed enough to lower his blaster. Fixing him with a pointed stare, Teyla laid her hand on his arm until he relented. "We mean your people no harm. Rather, we ask your assistance," she continued in a measured tone.

  The hunters' response was to raise their bows. "How simple-minded do you believe us to be?" sneered the leader. "Your kind is well known among us, marauder. We refuse to be deceived."

  Marauder? Sharing a glance with Ronon, Teyla began to get a sense of what her Earth-born teammates called deja vu.

  CHAPTER TEN

  s soon as the hunting party aimed their weapons, Ronon had his trained as well. Sure, they could use these people's help, but not if the price was to be an arrow in his chest. Hadn't they just had this same experience on P7L-418?

  "You have been visited by raiders as well?" Teyla seemed to be considering the probability of such a coincidence. Not likely, to Ronon's way of thinking. Maybe the raiders on 418 hadn't dialed this place by mistake after all. "We do not belong to their number. In fact, we were attempting to stop them on another world when we were accidentally transported here."

  "A convenient tale." The lead hunter sized them up, pale eyes sharp with distrust. Her dark hair was captured in a tight knot at the nape of her neck, giving her face an angular, severe look. She looked skittish. The whole group did, come to think of it.

  "An honest tale," Teyla returned. "We carry only what you see. We have little food and no means of transport. How can we be a threat to you?"

  "That question has been answered in painful fashion before."

  One of the hunters stepped forward-an adolescent, younger than any member of the Atlantis expedition. "Dantir, keep your place!" hissed the leader.

  The teen ignored the warning, openly studying Ronon. "I've never seen anyone as big as you," he observed.

  "It's not so rare where I come from." Ronon noted that all the hunters were relatively slight, some bordering on malnourished. None of them stood even as high as his shoulder. They wore boots that appeared to be nothing more than thick soles bound to their feet and laced up over the ankle. Their clothes were sturdy and plain, made from rough fabrics and animal hides. Not uniforms, at least not intentionally, but they might as well have been for the lack of variety.

  "Where do you come from?" the boy, Dantir, wanted to know.

  "Somewhere a long way from here." It occurred to Ronon that he wasn't sure if he meant his home world or his adopted city. At the moment, it didn't much matter. "We don't mean to cause any trouble. We just want to go home."

  "Do your people use the Stargate?" Teyla asked. Receiving only blank stares in response, she tried again. "The Ring of the Ancestors?"

  "The big metal circle in that direction." Ronon gestured with his gun. "It's wedged between some rocks in what remains of an old building. You must have seen it."

  The leader replied cautiously. "We have seen the ruins, but they are of little use to us. How should we use this ring you speak of?"

  "For transport. It connects many worlds. Although it still functions, it is missing a key piece..." Even as Teyla attempted to explain, Ronon could tell she wouldn't make much progress. These people obviously had no idea what a Stargate was, much less a dialing device.

  "Is that how you arrive to rob from our village?" another hunter demanded. "Does your ship travel through this magical ring?"

  "We don't have a ship." Ronon tried to rein in his frustration. "If we did, we wouldn't stand here and argue with you-we'd use it."

  When Dantir took another step forward, Ronon was forced to lower his aim. He really didn't want to shoot a curious kid. "All we want is to find a way home," he insisted, more quietly. "If we can't ...we still don't need to be your enemy."

  Not all the hunters appeared convinced of the visitors' honesty. Dantir, however, continued to watch Ronon with rapt fascination. "You travel to other worlds," he said, awed. "Like the tales of the Ancestors?"

  "Yes, indeed. The ring was their creation." Clearly heartened by the comment, Teyla glanced from him to the leader. "You know of the Ancestors, then?"

  "Only that they once defended our world but were at last chased away by the Wraith," said the woman, sounding impatient. "They do not help us now. Dantir, step back."

  "You taught me that we do not turn people away from our circle without reason, Mother," the boy answered, his eyes never leaving Ronon. "They have not given us reason to doubt them."

  Ronon had no idea why the kid was so focused on him. He knew that a big man with a weapon didn't make the most trustworthy picture. Somehow, though, the kid was willing to vouch for him. He'd take what he could get. "And we won't," he vowed, holstering his gun.

  The leader acknowledged her son's claim by lowering her bow. Grudgingly, the others did likewise. "Your words carry wisdom, if not respect," she told him with a glare of rebuke. Turning to the visitors, she continued, her features softening slightly. "Dantir is correct. Unfounded suspicion is not noble, and I apologize for mine. My name is Ilar. You may join our hunting circle."

  "Thank you." Teyla relaxed a bit, hope still evident in her gaze. "Might there be someone among your people with knowledge of the ring, or of the building that contained it? A village historian, perhaps?"

  Ilar hesitated. "There were many storytellers among us, once," she allowed. "Or so I have been told. It is becoming a lost art. I fear we may have little knowledge to offer."

  The light in Teyla's eyes dimmed, but her smile did not falter. Ronon chose to pay more attention to the immediate situation. They'd found a native society, one that might at least provide them food for a time. The problem of getting off this planet could be faced later.

  "We will hunt for the remainder of this day and the next before returning to our village," said Ear. "You may travel with us if you wish."

  Ronon glanced at his teammate, leaving the choice to her. He knew Teyla had been reluctant to leave the gate for fear a rescue team from Atlantis would fail to find them. All the members of the off-world teams had recently had transmitters placed under their skin so that they could be easily located, but as yet no one was certain of the devices' range. If a rescue was as improbable as he suspected, however, their best chance-as slim as it might be-lay with these people.

  After a moment, Teyla gave a slight nod. "I am Teyla Emmagan," she replied. "My companion is Ronon Dex. We would be honored to join your hunt."

  Dantir beamed and fell into step beside Ronon as the group moved out. "Are you properly called Ronon or Dex?"

  With a shrug, Ronon said, "Ronon's fine."

  "Very well. We are tracking the paledon, Ronon," Dantir explained. "Winter comes, and the village will need to store much meat."

  "Paledon." Ronon watched the trees for movement. "Is that the small four-legged creature we saw before we ran into you?"

  "It is," the boy confirmed. "We will pick up its herd trail, and I will show
you how we hunt."

  A muted laugh came from one of the older hunters. "You are on your first hunt yourself, and you mean to show the off-worlders how it is done?"

  "My aim is truer than yours, Temal," Dantir shot back.

  Ronon grinned to himself. This kid had guts. Then he spotted a flash of fur disappearing behind a rock, and he halted. The instincts of the hunters were well honed, because they immediately noticed and followed his lead.

  Before long, a paledon stuck its head out from behind the rock, and after another moment it emerged fully. Ilar silently fell to one knee and drew her bow, but something startled the animal, and it began to scamper away.

  Without a second thought, Ronon leveled his gun. The energy bolt sizzled through the air and dropped the paledon instantly to the ground.

  "Ronon!" Teyla's voice was appalled. A beat late, he wondered if he might have offended their hosts: some cultures that hunted for sport placed specific rules on such pursuits. But these people needed the food. They couldn't get too angry about his method.

  Risking a look at the hunters, he found their expressions shocked and impressed. Dantir's eyes were huge as he smiled widely.

  liar found her voice. "Perhaps," she said, "this arrangement will benefit us all."

  From her elevated vantage point on the walkway outside her office, Elizabeth watched the security team form up in the gate-room. To be sure, her second journey to PM-418 would be undertaken more solemnly than the first. There would be no idealized optimism this time. Atlantis had nothing to gain from the proceedings; she was returning solely to help the Falnori and Nistra find a way to coexist. She could only hope that both groups' leaders would take her at her word.

  John stepped out of the control room to join her. "Jumper Three's starting its second orbit," he reported neutrally.

  Without knowing just what debris might be lurking right on the other side of 418's space gate, it had seemed more prudent to send a jumper through the ground gate and fly it up to orbit to scan for both the gate and Teyla and Ronon's transmitters. The recovery team had departed about an hour ago, and John hadn't left the command level since.

  "Anything yet?" Elizabeth asked, knowing she'd already have heard if the answer was positive.

  He shook his head. "There's a lot of space out there. It might take a while, but we'll find them." Glancing over at her, he asked, "What about you? Sure you want to do this?"

  She raised her eyebrows. Maybe she'd let him off the hook in their previous discussion, but time had renewed her resolve, and in her view the subject of his resignation was far from closed. "Are you asking if I'm sure about going back to 418, or about leaving you in charge?"

  Subconsciously, maybe, she'd hoped to produce a flinch with that comment. He didn't oblige. "I recommended Rodney."

  "Yes, you did. But you also agreed to remain at your post until the SGC could send a replacement on the Daedalus, and if I hand the reins over to the chief science officer instead of the chief military officer, people are going to start asking questions that I don't think you'll want to answer just yet."

  With a slight tilt of his head, John conceded her point. "I was asking about going back to 418. There's not much we can accomplish there."

  "If we can do anything to keep the leaders from coming to blows, I'll consider the trip a success." Elizabeth leaned one elbow on the railing, facing him. "We jumpstarted this fight. Granted, it may only have been a matter of time before it escalated to this point on its own, but we brought the two sides face to face. Now six people are dead, and two societies are moving toward a pointless conflict. We can't walk away from that. Sometimes we have to do the right thing for all concerned, not just the expedient thing for us."

  "I understand. I'm just not sure how far we should be willing to go to protect these people from their own out„ rage.

  She didn't have a ready answer for him. Objectively she knew that they'd have to draw a line sometime; if ten sions came to a head, she couldn't put Atlantis's Marines between advancing armies. Still, she had to believe peace was possible, and she had always believed that the carnage of needless battle was the purest form of tragedy.

  Too many of her principles had been shaken by this galaxy already. She needed to cling fiercely to those that remained.

  "These people shouldn't be at odds," she said at last. "They don't have incompatible values or beliefs. All I have to do is convince them of that."

  "While also giving them a surprise about the ore that drives their respective economies. Better you than me." John sighed, rolling the strain out of his shoulders. "You think they'll listen this time around, or just step up the rhetoric? Or worse?"

  She shrugged, choosing not to muzzle a brief burst of fatalism. "War is the continuation of politics by other means, I've heard."

  The rueful twist of John's lips resembled a smirk, but it was entirely humorless. "Somehow I think Clausewitz would've had more to say if he'd met this galaxy."

  At that point they were joined on the walkway by Carson, shouldering into a tactical vest as he walked. "I must say I have my doubts about whether the governor and minister will understand a warning about the hazards of adarite any better coming from me than they would from you," he remarked.

  Not long ago Elizabeth might have believed his comment to be rooted in anxiety about going off-world. Carson Beckett had not been the most eager member of the Atlantis expedition at first, at least when it came to anything outside his infirmary. Now, of course, she knew better. If a task had to be completed for the greater good, whether it involved the weapons chair or an off-world mission, he wouldn't hesitate.

  He might not sleep all that well afterward, she reflected, recalling with a twinge their utter failure with Michael, but he would act.

  "I don't want to run the risk of being unclear and making the situation worse," she told him. "This way you can back me up if my Cliffs Notes version of the neurological effects goes astray."

  "This may sound paranoid," said John, "but are you prepared to trust both those guys? As unlikely as it may be, there's still a chance that one of them is in league with the raiders."

  In spite of the circumstances, Elizabeth felt encouraged by his caution. The Colonel may have been willing-too willing-to give up his title, but its associated responsibilities came more naturally to him than he may have realized.

  "We can't eliminate the risk completely," she replied. "All we can do is assess it and mitigate whatever elements are within our control."

  John made a face. "Why am I getting creepy flashbacks to the Air Force's Operational Risk Management course?"

  "Because I once oversaw an Air Force installation, and civilians aren't exempt from taking that training." She zipped up her jacket. "Try to keep the archeology team from executing a hostile takeover of Rodney's unidentified Ancient gadget locker while I'm gone, would you please?"

  "Never happen. They're too afraid he'll booby-trap something vital in their quarters." A hint of a smile finally reached his eyes, forced though it might have been. "Be safe," he said, echoing the request Elizabeth so often made when their positions were reversed.

  "Will do. We'll check in as scheduled."

  She headed for the stairway, Carson following. No sooner had their boots hit the gate-room floor than Major Lorne fell into step beside her. "Dial it up!" he called to the control room.

  After the event horizon materialized, she cast a glance up at John, standing at the railing. She raised one hand in a tentative wave and turned to step through the gate, wondering if, when she saw her teams off from that post, she looked quite as alone as he did now.

  The Marines secured the whole of the gate area as soon as they emerged from the wormhole. Leaving nothing to chance, Lieutenant Cadman began to sweep the perimeter with a scanner appropriated from Rodney. If one alternate entrance to the Ancient facility existed, the possibility of two alternate entrances was very real.

  Elizabeth noted a shift in the general atmosphere as she approached the Hall. For
their first meeting, Governor Cestan and Minister Galven had brought four guardassistants apiece. Today each man had eight. Hardly a promising start. The wind was stronger today than it had been before, and the calculating stares being traded across the open expanse brought to mind images of a gunslinger duel at dawn.

  "Minister, Governor," she greeted them formally. "I'm pleased to see that both of you deemed our discussion to be worth continuing."

  "I am here over the objections of my advisors," Cestan informed her. "The most recent incident has convinced many among my people that the Nistra are uninterested in securing a meaningful accord."

  "I am here as well, Governor," Galven pointed out archly. "Our commitment to peace is not for your people to judge. And, might I add, it has been only shaken by these reprehensible raids and by the insistence of the Falnori on using this latest one as an excuse to vilify us."

  Before the same tired accusations could be dragged out again, Elizabeth broke in. "It's commendable that both sides are present, and the issue of the raids will certainly be part of our discussion. First, though, I would like you to hear from my chief of medicine on a topic that concerns all of us."

  The unexpected request seemed to jar both men out of their indignation, at least temporarily. She considered it a moral victory when the group entered the Hall with no further comment, and she tried not to dwell on the fact that a full four guards from each faction remained outside to stand watch this time. Lorne spoke quietly into his radio, alerting his Marines to keep an eye on the augmented security detail.

  Once the delegations had taken their seats around the table, Elizabeth wasted no time. "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce Dr. Carson Beckett. He's highly experienced in the field of medical research, and he's discovered a characteristic of adarite that may affect our negotiations."