by Stargate
The commander studied him, slightly amused. The tension of the past days was clearly difficult for him to tolerate; the scientist was in danger of becoming aggressive. Still, as objectionable as he might have found him, the scientist was vital to the duty at hand. “We are doing something,” he hissed, showing a mouth of pointed teeth. “We are observing, and what we learn in that will lead our hive to victory. We will wait for the new arrivals to depart, and we will remain in silent mode until they do. The smallest mistake, the faintest glimmer of unmasked energy, and our lives will be forfeit. This planet’s protector will kill us without hesitation.” He loomed over the scientist. “Your caste is one of thinkers. Think on that.” He turned away, toward the cockpit’s iris door.
“There is another matter.” The scientist called after him.
He paused. “The hunger, yes?”
“Yes,” came the reply, and with it a hiss of raw need. “It’s been so long since we fed, and with a planet below untouched, filled with prey…”
The commander sneered. The subordinate castes did not have the fortitude of their warrior kindred. He too had not fed in some time, but he kept his hunger in check, containing it.
“There is no sustenance here,” concluded the scientist. “I do not know how much longer I can go without…”
“You are hungry?” he asked, drawing a stunner pistol from his belt. With a flick of his wrist he turned the weapon on the silent warrior and shot him at point-blank range. The drone-soldier collapsed to the deck. “Here. Feed, then. Take your fill, but do not dare question the orders of the Queen again.”
He waited a moment for the scientist to answer, but the other Wraith had already descended on the fallen warrior and jammed the feeding maw on his hand into its chest. With a sneer of disgust, the commander left him to his meal.
“McKay?”
Jennifer saw Rodney react with a start and pull the radio from the pocket on his gear vest. “Sheppard?” he replied.
The colonel was terse and clipped. “Carter’s in the loop. Lorne came through the Stargate with some backup. We’re doing a search-and-sweep of the area.”
“Have they found anything yet?” she asked.
Sheppard heard her question over the open channel. “One of Lorne’s boys spotted some scorch marks in the scrub…”
“Radiation burns?” said Rodney.
“Negative, we scanned ’em, they were cold. The only trace we found was Ronon’s gun. He must have dropped it, maybe during a struggle.” The colonel blew out a breath. “The power pack’s dead, but he never even got a shot off. It’s like it was drained.”
Keller said nothing. She’d seen Ronon Dex sparring in the gym, and Teyla fighting off four men at once on New Athos. An enemy that could take down both of them together had to be a formidable one.
Sheppard was still speaking. “So, in the meantime I need you and Keller to stay put until you hear from me, got it?”
McKay rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, mom.”
It was the wrong thing to say. “Don’t give me any static, Rodney, now’s not the time. Just sit tight and don’t screw around. We’ve got enough to deal with as it is.”
“We’ll be fine,” insisted McKay, gesturing around at the walls of Jaaya’s lodge. “I think later we’re even going to have some tea.”
There was a pause. “I’m sending a couple of men up there.”
“We don’t need babysitters,” retorted the scientist, throwing Keller a wan look, which she returned. “And you need every pair of eyes you’ve got. We’re fine. Honestly. You’re not the only one who knows how to handle a P90.” McKay nodded to himself.
“Whatever,” came the reply. “Ask Keller if you forget which end the bullets come from. Sheppard out.”
Laaro entered the small anteroom where they were sitting with a wooden food tray. “Your leader… He speaks like he mocks you,” observed the boy.
Rodney gave a weak chuckle. “He’s such a kidder.”
“We’re just anxious,” admitted Jennifer, breaking a small ball of baked bread that Laaro placed before her between her fingers. “Teyla and Ronon are very important to us.” She ate a little; the bread was tangy and flavorful.
Laaro sat and chewed on something leafy. Behind him, a dual sunrise painted the whole interior a warm golden hue. “Your friends… You are worried that they will return with the sickness.”
“We’re worried that they’ll ever return, period,” admitted Rodney. “Trust me, this kind of thing never ends well.”
Jennifer chewed her lip. “There could be another explanation. This might be nothing to do with the… The Aegis.”
Laaro shook his head. “No, it was the Giants who took Ronon and Teyla, and they serve the Aegis.”
“You know that for sure?” said Rodney.
The boy nodded. “I talked with Yuulo, who lives in the tall branches. It was he who saw the chariot come to the western farmstead. He told Elder Aaren.”
“Chariot? What is that, some kind of ship?”
“The Giants come and go in it. It is like a great shadow that moves over the ground.” Laaro held his hand flat and moved it in a slow, circular motion. “It is silent as a cloud, and dark like an ink-stone. Sometimes it rides in on rods of lightning, even though no rain falls.” He brought up another hand and crossed the thumbs, bringing the index fingers point-to-point, making a triangle. “This is its shape.”
“And these giant men?” Keller leaned closer. “What do they look like?”
Laaro shrugged. “I have never seen them. My father spoke of them…” He trailed off, his gaze turning inward. “He sometimes dreams poorly, and they haunt him in his sleep.”
Jennifer and Rodney exchanged looks. Laaro and his family were the closest thing to friends the Atlanteans had inside the settlement, but both of them were well aware that pushing the boy to say too much could make him clam up altogether.
“Do you know why the Aegis takes people?” said McKay. “Does your father ever speak about that?”
Laaro shook his head. “When the Taken become the Returned, they sleep a long sleep and remember nothing. Elder Takkol says this is for the best. He says that we are not ready to know all the secrets of the Aegis yet.”
“Do you agree with him?” Keller said gently.
Laaro stood abruptly, gripping the tray so hard his knuckles drew tight. “I think the Aegis should leave my father be. Take me instead, not him. He is not well.”
“Laaro…” began Jennifer, not sure what to say to make the youth feel better.
Jaaya’s voice called out from another room, and he followed it to the doorway. “I have to go. I will be back later.”
When they were alone, McKay turned to her. “Did you get all that? Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Probably not,” she admitted. Keller found McKay’s thought processes pretty hard to keep up with, truth be told. He had this tendency to bounce from idea to idea, concept to concept, with no apparent train of logic between them. Her grandmother had called that having a ‘mind like a grasshopper’.
“That stuff he described, the ‘chariot’ and the ‘giants’? Black triangles, weird lightning, people being kidnapped, missing time experiences?” He gestured with his hands. “What, you’ve never watched an episode of The X Files?”
“We didn’t really watch the Fox Network —”
McKay kept talking. “This is a classic alien abduction scenario!”
“Take a look around, Agent Scully,” she retorted. “We are the aliens on this planet.”
Rodney shook his head. “No, no. You’d be Scully, I’d be Mulder. Anyway. That’s not important.” He tapped a finger on his lips, warming to the subject. “We should check the abductees for implants or unexplained markings on their skin…”
“You want me to look for evidence of probing, too?” Keller asked; then she chuckled without humor. “And strangely enough, that wouldn’t be the oddest thing I’ve done since coming to Atlantis.”
&nb
sp; McKay nodded in agreement. “It’s not science fiction if you’re living in it every day —”
There was a rattle and crash from elsewhere in the house, and Jennifer heard Errian’s voice, gruff and angry. Heavy footsteps came closers, and Laaro called out her name in a warning.
McKay dove at the rattan floor where he had laid down his P90. “Jennifer, get behind me, quick!”
Her heart thudding in her chest, Keller’s eyes darted left and right, searching for an exit route and finding none. The window slats, maybe? But then she remembered they were in a mammoth tree house hundreds of feet off the ground. Maybe not.
Rodney had the gun up as the sliding door was roughly forced open on its tracks. Two locals, who had all the thuggish bearing of Takkol’s guards but none of the uniform robes or bangles, entered with a wiry man following on behind. The skinnier guy was clearly the one in charge. He had a tight cut to his hair and it had been deliberately stained yellow with some kind of earth dye.
“Where’s Laaro?” McKay demanded. “Who are you people?”
“The boy isn’t hurt,” came the reply. The man had a clear, frosty voice. “And Errian knows better than to stand in my way.” He nodded toward one of the bigger men, making the warning against such foolishness clear. None of the men seemed to be concerned that Rodney was pointing a submachine gun at them. “My name is Soonir. I want to talk.”
“About what?” said Keller.
“The Aegis. The things that Takkol refused to speak of.” He said the elder’s name like a curse word. Soonir beckoned them. “Come with me. I know you seek information, I know about your friends among the Taken. There are things you need to see.” He paused. “You may bring the weapons you carry if you feel better protected with them.”
Keller shot McKay a quick look, both of them remembering Sheppard’s clear and unequivocal order to sit tight.
“We’re not going anywhere with you,” Jennifer told him.
Soonir let out a slow, measured breath. “Ah. Now, that’s not the best reply to give me.” He stepped back, giving his men room to work. “You see, voyagers, I will not take no for an answer.”
CHAPTER FOUR
He didn’t awaken slowly; instead Ronon Dex jerked from his induced slumber as if he had been seared by fire, hissing through his teeth. He rolled from where he lay and his feet hit the metallic floor with a dull ring.
The first thing he saw was Teyla, sitting opposite him on a pallet made of spongy white material. She frowned. “Are you all right?”
Ignoring the question, he got up, taking stock of where he found himself. A small room with a low ceiling and curving walls, all arches and smooth lines. Two sleeping pallets seamlessly extruded from the floor, no windows. Diffuse, directionless light seeping in from panels in the ceiling; and an oval doorway sealed shut by a striated metal panel. A prison cell.
“How long have we been here?” he said, moving to the rear of the chamber. The Satedan’s hands ran down his tunic, his trousers, searching his pockets.
“It is difficult to be certain,” said Teyla. “I came to shortly before you did.”
He shot her a look. “You should have woken me.”
The Athosian woman gave him a wan look. “I saw little point in doing so.”
Ronon chewed his lip, his fury burning cold and slow. All his weapons and tools were gone. The gun belt hung empty at his hip, as did the numerous blade scabbards in his leggings and boots. The secret pockets in his tunic were vacant; even the needle darts in his wrist guards and the chain concealed behind his belt had been taken. At another time, he might have been impressed by the thoroughness of his captors in so completely disarming him, but instead his face set in a grimace as he weighed the thought in his mind, asking himself what it revealed. His hands contracted into fists; if they were all he had to fight with, it would have to be enough.
“They are clearly very careful,” offered Teyla, seeing the train of his thoughts.
“Not careful enough,” he rumbled. “They let us wake up.” He dropped into a crouch and ran his hand along the place where the wall met the floor. There were no signs of a weld or any manufacturing marks. The construction appeared flawless, almost as if it had been carved. Ronon began a careful circuit of the cell, probing at every part of the walls, looking for a blemish, a flaw, anything.
“I have already checked,” said the woman.
He nodded, but didn’t stop. Dex needed to look for himself, just to be certain. Presently, he came to the inset door and rapped on it with his fist. A dull report sounded. He pressed his ear to the cold metal and heard nothing. “Where did they take us?”
“We have no way of knowing how long we were unconscious,” Teyla noted.
“Had to be a few hours, at least. I’m hungry.”
“You are always hungry,” she said, forcing a thin smile.
“True,” he admitted. “And I can measure it like a clock. Less than a day.” Without warning, Ronon suddenly hauled back and slammed a punch into the door. Teyla blinked at the sound of the impact and the Satedan bared his teeth. “Not made of steel,” he hissed. “Something else.”
“One thing is certain.” Teyla gestured at the walls around them. “This place, whatever it may be, was clearly created by a science far too advanced for the locals on Heruun.”
“Those creatures,” he began, “the humanoids. I’ve never seen anything like them.” Ronon turned away, flexing his hand. “They’re not our usual breed of enemy.”
“And this cell was not built by Wraith technology.”
He eyed her. “You say that like we should be happy about it. Those things… They may not be Wraith, but they’re still a threat. ”
Teyla nodded slowly. “They must be this ‘Aegis’ that Aaren spoke of. The protectors of the planet.”
“How does kidnapping people protect them — ?” Ronon’s terse retort was cut off as the door abruptly opened. The metal panel retracted into the wall, revealing one of the towering humanoids. Without pause, it stepped into the cell, stooping slightly, the door whispering shut behind it. The Satedan caught a glimpse of a long corridor beyond before it closed. The creature’s head turned, dark eyes studying Ronon. It aimed one of the glassy paralysis devices at him. The meaning was clear.
Dex raised his hands slowly and backed off a step; he had no desire to experience the horrible effects of the alien weapon again.
The humanoid had a different device in its other hand, spidery fingers curled around it, operating a display with tapping motions. The second object was an orb the size of a child’s ball, shimmering with a pearly glow. It pointed the device at Ronon, and a series of chimes issued out. The Satedan caught Teyla’s eye and she mouthed the word scanner? at him.
It turned the orb toward Teyla and did the same; for a moment, there was a glimmer of something close to a human expression on its sparse features, a thinning of slit-like nostrils and a motion of the head. It took a step closer to the woman, holding the sensor globe higher. Teyla’s gaze met Ronon’s for a brief instant, and a silent communication passed between them.
Ronon willed himself not to move, not to give away even the smallest flicker of muscle-motion. He watched the alien and waited for his moment; and as he did a faint scent touched his nostrils. It was odd, almost sour-sweet like rotting flesh or an infected wound. It was coming from the alien, a meat-odor oozing from its pores.
As the creature turned, Ronon spotted an ugly purple-black bruise on the creature’s torso, where the stomach would have been on a man. An injury; and suddenly it was clear to him. This was the same one he had fought with outside the farmhouse, the one he had punched. Ronon remembered the dry texture of the flesh where he struck it, how the epidermis had powdered on his knuckles. Almost as if… As if it were decaying.
He had little time to process the thought. The alien’s head turned toward Teyla and the moment was upon him.
He reacted without hesitation, launching himself off his heels. He drove his fist straight into
the bruise and the humanoid staggered, a thin gurgle escaping its lipless mouth. It spun back toward him, the sensor globe falling from its hand, raising the paralysis device. Ronon advanced, blocking and pushing the creature’s arm away. It was difficult; against the Satedan, the difference in the height and mass of the giant alien made the fight unbalanced. It hissed and grabbed him by the collar with its free hand. For a moment, they struggled against one other, strong versus stronger.
Then from nowhere Teyla slammed the sensor globe into the humanoid’s shoulders, drawing out a strained grunt of pain from the alien. The device fractured and cracked in her hands, knocking the creature off-balance. Ronon struck out again, punching the livid injury once more; the alien crumpled to the deck, its breathing shallow, a drool of watery purple fluid leaking from its mouth. The dark eyes fluttered closed and it became still.
“Did we… Kill it?” Teyla asked.
Ronon nudged the creature with his boot. “Maybe. I don’t think we should stick around to find out.” He scooped up the glass egg and turned it over in his hands. “Any idea how to use this?”
Teyla took it from him and examined it as she walked toward the door. “There are glyphs carved into the surface of —” The ellipse gave off a pulse of color and the door slid open. She moved it away and it closed again.
“It’s not just a weapon, then.”
“Apparently so.” She opened the door once more and took a cautious glance outside. “I hear no alarms.”
“That doesn’t mean there aren’t any,” Ronon replied, stepping out boldly. He looked up and down the corridor. “This way,” he said, pointing to the right.
Teyla frowned again. “What makes you think that is the way out?”
He flashed her a feral grin and started walking.
Sheppard ran a hand through his hair and came away with his palm covered in sweat. The heat of the day was heavy, a deadening layer over the landscape that drew out the moisture in his throat, the constant rays of the two suns beating down on the colonel and his men. Haze shimmered on the horizon, off toward the direction of the Stargate. Pausing to take a swig from his canteen, he followed movement in the long grasses, where some nimble deer-like animals were pawing at the dry earth. Sheppard thought about McKay’s earlier ‘Wild Kingdom’ comment and wondered if the scientist had something there. The data they had on M9K-153 (or Heruun, Sheppard amended mentally) described a world of burning deserts about the equator, but with rich tropical grasslands in the habitable zone — a lot similar to the African veldt back home on Earth. On any other day, he might have taken a moment to savor that; but not today. Right now, he had people missing, and until Ronon and Teyla were back and safe, all other concerns were secondary. Sheppard swirled the lukewarm water around his mouth and swallowed it, grim-faced. He was liking this mission less and less with each passing hour.