Casualties of war

Chapter four

As it turned out, they didn't have to walk the whole way. Good thing, because the capital wasn't exactly right around the corner. Once they'd hiked for the better part of an hour, the forest thinned out, giving way to gently rolling hills covered in some kind of grain. There was no city yet in sight, even after John fished out his binoculars again.

When Rodney emerged from the trees and arrived at the same conclusion, he visibly deflated. "We really need to come to a consensus on what does and does not constitute a `long journey,"' he grumbled.

Before John could think of a polite way to ask Kellec how they expected to reach this supposed capital by midday, they came upon a well-built wooden carriage, easily big enough for the entire group. Like an old Conestoga wagon, but without a canvas top, it was harnessed to an animal that resembled an oversized Clydesdale horse-if horses ever sat upright on their haunches. John was pretty sure they didn't.

"They are swift and obedient, but many of them do not like the woods," Kellec explained, running his fingers down the animal's flank. "This one is quick to startle, so it was easier to complete the forest trail on foot."

Quieter, too, John thought, which had probably factored into the decision.

Upon seeing the wagon, Rodney's displeasure grew, at least in volume. "Oh, this'll be comfortable."

"You want to keep walking, Rodney, be my guest." John grasped the side rail and swung himself up into the wagon. Taking a seat on one of the long benches that lined the interior, he twisted around to offer Teyla a hand, only to find that she'd already climbed aboard, with far more grace than he'd shown.

Ronon boosted Rodney up and then hauled himself over the side. The warriors seemed awfully agile, clambering into the wagon like circus gymnasts and taking positions along the benches. One went to the front and gathered up the reins, giving them a decisive tug.

The animal promptly plopped its forelegs down on the ground and took off at a rapid pace. Immediately John abandoned any effort to compare the beast to a horse. Its gait was more like that of a rabbit, bounding forward on both forelegs at once and then moving both its massive hind legs to catchup. It was fast, but a little on the bouncy side.

"Just for the record, my spine is being traumatized," Rodney informed his teammates in a low but distinctly unhappy voice.

Sympathizing with his scientist was even lower on John's to-do list than usual. "Try serving as the crash mat for one of your teammates and see how your spine likes that."

"I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

The scenery flew past, the fields of wild grain soon replaced by rows of green plants that might have been vegetables. It was clear that these areas had been deliberately planted. Civilization couldn't be too far away.

John grimaced when the wagon hit a particularly unforgiving bump and looked over at Merise, sitting across from him. "Your people do a lot of farming?"

"Crops fare well here," she replied, pushing windblown strands of coffee-colored hair back from her face. "We grow what we need for ourselves and for trade."

"Do you trade with neighboring peoples," Teyla inquired, "or with other worlds?"

"We have a long-standing trade agreement with the Nistra."

Huh. Something about that didn't add up.

The skepticism in Ronon's voice was obvious. "The people who raid your place of honor? You trade with them?"

The Falnori woman's expression was hard to decipher. John spotted frustration, for a start, but also resignation. "Our history is complex. Governor Cestan will be able to explain."

Before long, a cluster of structures rose out of the fields on the horizon. As the wagon drew closer, John tried to gauge the city's size. It wasn't a New York or Los Angeles, but it wasn't a one-stoplight town, either. More like a decent-sized suburb, maybe. Most of the buildings looked to be only one or two stories high, though one dominated the settlement, covering an area the size of an Earth city block and looming three or four stories above the others. The capital, he guessed.

Everything appeared to be built out of wood with the occasional piece of stone. Probably not all that recently, either. The construction was antiquated by Earth standards; most likely there weren't any power tools stashed away in anyone's sheds around here. Still, it all looked sturdy, and almost graceful. When they neared one of the perimeter buildings, John could see a fairly elaborate design carved into the slats that formed its roof He'd never been much of a student of architecture, but the amount of time such a purely aesthetic detail must have taken to complete suggested that these people took their craftsmanship seriously.

The wagon slowed as it entered the city, and the packed dirt of the main street instantly felt more forgiving under the wheels than the rougher rural path had. A few other, smaller wagons traveled the street, and people milled around, going about their business with hardly a glance toward the group of warriors and visitors. Most of the foot traffic came and went from a series of small, connected buildings that might have been a marketplace. A little girl skipped happily along a stone sidewalk and was helped up by a tolerant adult when she stumbled.

Wardrobes were mostly simple, tunics and robes and the like. Some townspeople were livelier than others, but no one seemed too poor or undernourished. If the ATA gene was present and recognized here, were these the `haves' or the `have-nots'? Or did they draw no distinction between the two?

Set in the city center, the capital didn't look all that different from the surrounding structures, size notwithstanding. The same perfectly aligned beams-just a lot more of them. Their clean, elegant lines reminded John of a long-ago assignment in the Far East.

After the wagon came to a halt beside the sprawling capital, the warriors disembarked, and the Atlantis team followed their lead. John reached out to grab the back of Rodney's vest when the scientist performed a less than flawless dismount.

"I will inform Cestan of your presence," said Kellec, with a slight bow of his head. "In the meantime, Merise will show you to the training field. Our warrior apprentices are working on an exercise which you may find interesting."

The chief warrior vanished into the capital through a set of double doors, leaving John and his team to look to Merise for direction. The earlier drama at the Hall of Tribute came to mind. They weren't going to just waltz into the seat of leadership without so much as a question about their weapons, were they?

She made no attempt to disarm them, though. Instead, offering only a "follow me," she led them up a stone walkway to another entrance. Once inside, John was again impressed by the level of detail in the decor, from the carved patterns along the walls to the woven mats on the floors. As they walked, some of the warriors left the group, until only two remained to share guide duty with Merise.

"Kellec mentioned the training field," Ronon said. "Is this place the headquarters of your military as well as your government?"

Judging by her expression, Merise didn't quite understand the question. "Governor Cestan is here, and the warriors serve the governor. What use would we be were we elsewhere?"

"So you all live and train here, in this capital building?" John asked.

He received a nod in reply. "Is it different for your people?"

Come to think of it, it wasn't, at least not on Atlantis.

Two flights of stairs and another door led them onto a long balcony overlooking an open courtyard in the middle of the complex. On a neatly-trimmed grass field that could have stood in for any parade ground John had ever seen, about two dozen men and women worked with whips. They completed a prescribed set of motions in perfect sync, similar to the way Teyla began her staff-fighting classes.

"How very lion-tamer Zen," Rodney observed, already sounding impatient. "How long is your governor likely to be? Because we-"

"Cool it, Rodney," John cut him off, giving Merise an apologetic look. "I take it these are new recruits?"

The Falnori showed no reaction to either John's attempt at tact or Rodney's lack thereof. "They are soldiers who have proven their ability and loyalty, and therefore have been selected to become warriors. Few are chosen for such a high honor."

So the whip-wielders they'd met were the elite troops. John wondered what kinds of weapons the rank and file carried.

"Ali." The first glimmer of a smile graced Merise's features as she looked over the railing. "They are about to begin."

In the courtyard, the apprentices had started setting up a row of body-sized bolts of cloth. Training dummies, probably. As the others watched, one apprentice stepped up to face a dummy, holding his whip out to his side, away from his body. All of a sudden, he seemed more focused-and more apprehensive. John leaned forward on the railing, his curiosity tweaked.

In a blur of motion, the whip blazed through the air, striking the dummy with a sharp crack-and the cloth was consumed by a blinding flash.

"Holy-" John jerked back in shock. Below, the apprentices whistled and clapped their comrade on the back. Only a pile of loose ash remained where the dummy had stood.

Rodney's mouth opened and closed twice before any actual sound came out. "How the hell did that happen?" he finally managed.

Either John was imagining things, or Merise looked just a bit smug. "It is a difficult skill to master," she commented. "You can understand why we would not entrust it to all of our soldiers."

For once, Ronon looked well and truly impressed. "The end of the whip can be lit."

"No." Rodney was using his surrounded-by-idiots voice again. Combined with his obvious astonishment at what he'd just witnessed, it made for an odd tone. "Simply flicking a lighter couldn't do that. It didn't burn conventionally at all. It's like the dummy was instantly incinerated."

"An electric charge?" John suggested.

"Better, but still woefully inadequate. No electric charge strong enough to put out that kind of heat could be packaged that way. The whip is so small, and there would have to be some method of controlling it…" Rodney's eyes fell to the whip at Merise's belt, and he paled. "God-you could have taken my hand off with that thing earlier!"

Now the warrior's expression was downright cunning. "If I had so chosen, I could have done much more."

A little late, John got the picture. They hadn't been brought up here just to kill time. This was a demonstration, and a none-too-subtle message.

Swallowing convulsively, Rodney said, "Okay, good to know. Thanks for, ah, restraining yourself."

Another apprentice faced the next dummy squarely, fingers alternately flexing and curling around the handle of her whip. Her thumb flicked against the handle, creating a barely-detectable hum in the air, just before she lashed out. Again, the dummy went up in smoke. Triumphant, the apprentice released the apparent on-off switch before returning the whip to her belt.

"Some kind of superheating effect," Rodney mumbled to himself, watching with equal parts awe and alarm. "The power requirements alone-"

"I see you have been fully introduced to our war„Hors.

The voice was resonant and originated from somewhere behind them. Everyone turned, the warriors bowing low.

"Governor," Merise murmured, her gaze downcast.

Cestan was, strangely enough, more powerfully built than most of his warriors. His black hair, graying at the temples, almost reached his shoulders, and he stood a couple of inches taller than John. Not as tall as Ronon, though, which was somehow reassuring.

"I welcome you to Falnor," the governor greeted as the warriors rose and moved to flank him. "Kellec tells me that you have come through the Stargate."

"We have." John went through the introductions again, and Cestan acknowledged each team member with a nod. "We got off to a bad start, what with the trespassing in the Hall and everything, so we'd like to formally apologize for that."

"I believe your error can be forgiven." Fixing John with a probing gaze, Cestan clasped his hands in front of him, placidly ignoring the surprise displayed by his warriors. "If you did not knowingly cause offense."

"We did not," Teyla hurried to assure him. "We had no knowledge of your people's existence, let alone your customs. We intended to explore the facility in search of technology we believe may be present inside."

"Specifically, an energy source," Rodney jumped in. At least he hadn't mentioned weapons right off the bat. "You know the one. You're already using it."

John blinked, not sure what had prompted that leap of logic.

"It's a reasonable conclusion," Rodney insisted when the rest of the group stared at him. "Those whips are powered by something I don't recognize, something that's messing with my scans the same way the transport in the Hall did."

Only then did John notice that the scanner hanging unobtrusively at the scientist's side was active. When he put his mind to it, Rodney could be pretty damned sneaky.

Fortunately, their host didn't appear insulted. "You speak of the adarite," he said simply.

"Adarite?" Ronon repeated.

"An ore found in the mountains. To our knowledge, it is unique to this world." Cestan glanced from the crazily flashing scanner to Rodney's face and back again. "Kellec did say that you were children of the Ancestors, as we are," he mused. "I admit that I did not fully believe it until now."

"We live in one of their cities." John didn't see any need to tell him which one. "We have access to a fair amount of their technology."

"If that is true, could you not have overpowered the warriors and taken what you needed?"

Maybe. Probably, especially if they'd sent for Marine reinforcements. But that was a judgment made in hindsight, and besides… In any case, Cestan's frank appraisal of them was starting to make John twitchy. "That's not the way we do things," he replied.

That seemed to confirm something for the governor. After a moment, he turned toward the door, his dark blue robe swinging out behind him. "Come. I suspect there is much we can discuss."

As the team moved to comply, John got the feeling they'd just passed some sort of test.

The corridors didn't look any different the second time through, although they took a few extra turns on this pass. "You have the use of an Ancestors' city and everything it contains," Cestan remarked, setting a decisive pace. "What need do you have for more?"

Teyla lengthened her stride to keep up. "There is a race of beings which even the Ancestors could not defeat."

"The Wraith." Cestan's tone was grim. "We know all too well. Our people were fortunate that their last culling was brief."

"Well, there's them, too, but we're talking about someone else," John said. "Someone who wants our home, preferably without us in it. They're coming after us, and we were hoping to find something in the Hall of Tribute that might help us defend ourselves against them."

"We are open to many types of trade," Teyla added. "If we might be allowed to visit the Hall-"

"Perhaps we each may learn something here first." Before Cestan reached the nearest door, a warrior hurried ahead to open it for him. John stepped through behind them and found himself in the training field they had been observing previously. The apprentices had finished their exercise and taken off, leaving a couple of dummies behind.

"As you suspected, Dr. McKay, the whips are powered by adarite." The governor held out his hand, palm up, to Merise, who placed her whip in it. "Our history tells us that many uses for the ore were once known. However, much of our knowledge of the Ancestors' work has faded from memory over the generations. Many of the machines left to us have fallen into disrepair. Mostly we are able to make adarite lamps, and of course the whips."

Leaning in, John examined the weapon. The flexible portion looked like a braid of several very thin strands of metal. One brighter strand stood out from the other, more tarnished ones. The handle had been fashioned from the same metal as the unique strand-adarite, no doubt-and was encircled by row after row of tiny etchings. "A lot prettier than any weapon I've ever carried," he admitted.

Cestan smiled. "Our craftsmen take great pride in their work. Many weeks of labor are devoted to a single whip."

"Yes, nice work," said Rodney brusquely, reaching for it. "May I?"

Merise opened her mouth-probably to tell Rodney where to stick his outstretched hand-but Cestan passed the whip to him. "I have hope that, in studying the adarite with the insight of the Ancestors, you may be able to tell us more about its other uses which have been lost to time. It may be of some assistance to you as well."

"Governor," Merise said urgently, her eyes never leaving her whip.

"Do you have so little faith in your brethren, Merise?" Cestan arched one eyebrow and inclined his head toward his other two bodyguards. "If the visitor, who has no experience with your weapon, were to challenge two expert warriors, who would you expect to win?"

Only partially mollified, if her sharp sigh was anything to go on, Merise reluctantly stood aside.

"I can only do so much here, with limited diagnostic capability," Rodney warned, holding the whip handle up to eye level. "And I'll have to rely on our own equipment, since this adarite seems to give garbage readings to Ancient scans. Listen, I saw them turning these things on and off-?"

"Find the widest engraved band on the handle and squeeze it," Cestan instructed. "Take care to hold it away from yourself and others."

As if suddenly remembering that these things were dangerous, Rodney shoved the whip into John's hand. "Go ahead. Power it up," he directed, reaching into his pack for a gadget, presumably something Earth-made.

With a shrug, John closed his fingers around the handle and squeezed. Instantly he felt a slight tingle in his arm, and the metal strand within the whip began to glow. "Kind of tickles," he commented.

"There is a constant, minimal level of power in the handle. Pressure discharges a much greater amount of energy." Merise was obviously itching to get her weapon back, so he released the power band and handed it back to her.

"Could you give us another demonstration?" Rodney had retrieved something like a beefed-up voltmeter from his pack. "For analytical purposes."

"Gladly." The warrior stepped clear of the group and raised her whip over her head. With a spin worthy of a dancer, she attacked. The whip stood out straight and struck the nearby dummy from the side, reducing it to a brief flare and then smoke.

John had known it was coming, and it still dazzled him.

"Incredible," Rodney breathed, his head buried in his equipment. "It's an electrothermal release on the order o…

No way was John letting that detail slip by. "So I wasn't far off with the electric charge theory after all?"

"Try not to let it go to your head. The generation mechanism has to be much more efficient, though." When Rodney finally looked up, he had that manic gleam in his eye that usually signaled a Nobel Prize fantasy. "This could be huge."

"We believe the adarite was the reason for the Ancestors' interest in this world," Cestan informed them.

"No, I mean huge. For us." Catching himself, Rodney amended, "That is to say, I'm sure we can help the Falnori understand the ore's properties and explore other applications as well."

Ronon folded his arms. "As well as what?"

"The discharge from that relatively small weapon is strong enough to incinerate organic material. I suspect it would also have the effect of superheating the water in a human body, the results of which would be both spec tacular and gruesome." Rodney glanced at the warriors, whose expressions confirmed his assumption. "It breaks down the structure of whatever it touches. Just imagine what kind of damage it-or, better yet, a scaled-up version-could do to nanotechnology."

He'd had John's attention before, but the word `nanotechnology' provided a jolt of its own. "You think it would work against the Asurans?"

"It would undoubtedly have a disruptive effect on their molecular cohesion, and the discharge frequency varies enough that adapting to counter it would not be a trivial task. As an added bonus, it probably wouldn't do too badly against a Wraith, either." Like usual, Rodney was already about five steps ahead of the others. "We'd need to investigate better delivery methods, specifically something that wouldn't require such close proximity to the target. The potential applications are virtually unlimited. If we explore the Ancient research facility, I'm confident we'll find data to jumpstart our efforts."

This was what they needed, what they'd come for-a fighting chance.

"You are interested in learning more, I take it," Cestan remarked, a trace of amusement in his voice.

John stared at the whip in Men'se's hand and felt a flicker of guilt for his excitement. No matter how many jokes certain teammates cracked about Pavlovian responses, he didn't harbor any deep and abiding love for weapons. Weapons broke stuff and killed people. He knew that at least as well as anyone; he accepted it as an ugly yet fundamental aspect of his profession. Nowhere in the oath did it say he had to like it.

But others had weapons, too, and he sure as hell didn't like sending folded flags and empty explanations back to grieving families. He couldn't stop the Asurans from coming for Atlantis any more than he could stop the Wraith from needing to feed, but he could defend his people with everything he had. If that meant appearing a little too fascinated by firepower on occasion, he'd live with it.

"Yes," he told Cestan, his gaze still resting on the whip. "It's safe to say that we're interested."

Teyla had frequently heard her Atlantis colleagues refer to a man named Murphy. Experience had taught her that the law named for him was often valid. However, she preferred a different Earth maxim: if something appeared too good to be true, it often was.

For that reason, she remained more cautious about this new development than her teammates. Moreover, she found their reactions noteworthy. It had come as little surprise that Rodney had kept up a constant, one-sided conversation ever since taking his readings of the weapon. She had not, however, expected Ronon's rapt attention, and John… John's demeanor suggested a sense of hope, something she hadn't seen from him in quite some time.

"How readily available is this adarite?" asked Rodney, breaking out of his academic fugue at last. "We'd need a sizable amount just for study, to say nothing of actual development and fabrication of armament hardware."

"We'd be happy to work with you on a beneficial trade agreement," John told Cestan. "Either for services-like you said, we may be able to develop other applications for adarite-or for tools or raw materials. There are a number of ways we could help your people."

"Regrettably, our supply of adarite is quite limited. That is another subject we must discuss." The governor's grim expression lent weight to Teyla's concern. Nothing worth having was ever easily won. "The mines are located deep in the mountains. For generations, access has been controlled solely by the Nistra."

That name again-so intertwined with everything they'd learned about these people. "Would you tell us of the Nistra?" Teyla asked. "How have they become both a trading partner and an adversary?"

"A question that has been asked by all of us at one time or another," Cestan replied, his resignation evident. "We were one people, long ago. When the Ancestors departed to battle the Wraith elsewhere, they left many heirs among the populace. Some of these heirs had the ability to operate the devices that remained, and thus they held positions of importance. Those who were purely of this world began to believe that the heirs, both able and not, were favored over them. Only a few generations passed before the Wraith returned."

His sorrow appeared fresh, though his tale was born of events long past. "The culling that followed was as brutal as any described in our history. Our people tried to protect themselves by fleeing into the Hall of Tribute and other shelters. But many could not reach a place of safety in time, and the city was ravaged. Those who survived soon became bitterly divided. The able heirs were accused of protecting their brethren at the expense of the pure natives."

Recalling what Merise had said earlier-that someone with the gene could not be Nistra-Teyla said, "So the heirs of the Ancestors became the Falnori, and the others became the Nistra."

"Yes."

"Were the accusations true?" Ronon asked. "Was preference given to the heirs?"

Teyla tensed at the blunt query. Cestan's features tightened, but his response was measured. "Never. Not then, and not now."

"You're sure about that?" John pressed. "No offense, but all this started thousands of years ago."

"I will demonstrate. Kellec mentioned an Ancestor device you carry?" He lifted his hand in a wordless request.

John pulled out his life sign detector and gave it to the Falnori leader. The screen did not light. When Cestan passed it to Merise, however, it awakened.

"You rose to power without having the gene-the ability," Ronon said.

"We do not trouble ourselves with who was born to whom, nor does it matter to us who does and does not possess the ability. To borrow your phrase, it is `not the way we do things. "' Cestan was emphatic on that point. "By now, after generations of damage and disrepair, we have so little left of the Ancestors' work that the ability is all but meaningless. Yet the rift has been torn, and it cannot be mended."

"The Nistra settled new territory, near the mines?" John guessed.

"At first they claimed merely to desire their own land. Our forebears and theirs agreed to declare the Hall and the Stargate neutral territory, to be used for trade and remembrance. For centuries we lived apart and in peace. Because they were nearer the mines and our lands produced better crops, we offered them a portion of our harvest each year in exchange for a quantity of adarite. Beyond that our two peoples rarely met.

"As our population grew," Cestan continued, "more adarite was required. Just over one hundred years ago, the Nistra moved their villages closer to the mining territory in order to increase production, and they began to act as though the mines belonged solely to them. It was then that the trade agreement began to sour. At last the Nistra seized the mines and threatened any Falnori who dared approach."

Rodney frowned, his scanners forgotten for the moment. "And you're still giving them food every year?"

Spreading his hands wide, Cestan answered, "We have little choice. By honoring what remains of the agreement, we receive a small amount of adarite. Were we to break it, we would receive none. Adarite power is long-lived, but not limitless, and the release of that power quickly damages the other materials contained in the whips. They do not last long. Although we also need the ore for the few tools of the Ancestors we still possess, it is mostly needed for the whips, which provide our best defense against the Wraith… and others."

Teyla was under no illusions about the meaning of others' in this context. "Your warriors spoke of raids on the Hall," she prompted.

Cestan's mild frustration quickly transformed into fury. "An outrage that defies comparison," he spat, stalking across the field. "It has occurred only within the past few seasons, though it has been more frequent of late. The Nistra had always honored the Hall until now. Suddenly they have no respect for its meaning and come in groups to ransack it for trinkets. It has become so intolerable that, for the first time in generations, we have considered denying this harvest's trade. They have even attempted an incursion here in the city, but they seem much more interested in the Hall. As if we have nothing of value to them."

"And the no-weapons rule prevents you from placing guards," said John.

"As does the fact that it is not our land to guard. Instead we send daily patrols into the forest, like the one you encountered."

"Is it possible that only a small number of the Nistra are involved?" Teyla asked. "Have you not tried to discuss the matter with their leadership?"

"Overtures have been made and rejected. Confrontations end in violence and sometimes bloodshed. I fear all paths may end in full conflict."

The governor turned back toward his guests and laid out his entreaty. "We are building a stronger army, but proven warriors are few. You have the might of the Ancestors. If you could provide us the means to properly defend ourselves against the Nistra threat"-here his gaze swept over their P-90s-"we could spare some of the adarite from our meager stores for your use."

Now the terms had been made plain. The Falnori were less interested in any scientific advancement than in better weaponry to defeat their enemies. Is your goal any nobler than theirs? Teyla reminded herself.

Still, they couldn't simply hand over a cache of guns and explosives.

John cocked his head. "What did you have in mind?"

Satisfied that his visitors hadn't immediately refused his offer, Cestan explained, "Something that can reach further than our whips, and that does not depend on adarite. For this we would give an amount of ore proportional to the number of Falnori you are prepared to equip. In time, if fortune is kind, perhaps the adarite will be more available."

"We may be able to make a deal."

At the Colonel's words, Teyla spun toward him, startled. This was hardly their usual method.

Apparently having similar thoughts, Rodney leaned in and spoke in a low, falsely polite voice. "Colonel, you know how it drives Elizabeth nuts when we come home as arms dealers."

"I'm just exploring options, Rodney, so chill." John addressed Cestan again. "How big is your army compared to theirs?"

The direction of this conversation unnerved Teyla. Given a choice between waiting to see where it led and taking action, she preferred the latter. Stepping forward, she asked, "Governor, may we take a moment to confer? There are details of your proposal that our group should discuss."

She could feel her team leader's piercing stare, but he said nothing. "Of course," Cestan replied. "Such matters should never be treated with haste."

Giving a slight bow of courtesy, he drifted to the far end of the field, his trio of warriors trailing behind. The team walked in the opposite direction until they were assured of being outside hearing range.

John pivoted toward Teyla, making only a token attempt to mask his irritation. "Since when do we cut in on each other like that?"

"You were preparing to supply arms for a dispute in which we have no part," she reminded him, unmoved.

"I was considering all potential trade avenues for a commodity we could really use. That's a long way from arming everyone." John set his hands on his hips. "How trigger-happy do you think I am?"

"Not `trigger-happy,"' Teyla said quietly. She had no wish to accuse her friend. "Focused on your people's needs."

He looked at her without speaking for a few seconds, acknowledging her point. "We do need it. A weapon that breaks nanite bonds might be the difference that saves our expedition."

"Then we will do all we can to procure some of this ore. But we must remember how little we truly know of these people. We have only their word that this conflict exists as they describe. Our initial impressions of a society have been proven wrong before."

She did not need to elaborate. The memories of Genii betrayal and Daleran upheaval spoke loudly enough.

"I get it. And I wasn't about to give away the store." Rolling his shoulders as if to dispel the noticeable tension there, John sighed. "Okay. We need to know if these guys are for real, and we're generally opposed to starting wars. What if we propose to mediate a new treaty between the Falnori and the Nistra? Cestan's interest, or lack of it, will give us a good idea of how sincere he is. And if they make nice for a while, the adante will no longer be used as leverage, so we'll have a better chance at getting some of it."

Eyebrows climbing, Rodney raised a finger to signal an objection. "I suspect it also drives Elizabeth nuts when you offer her up as a mediator without asking."

John wheeled on him, and the irritation returned. "Would it be so hard for you to cut me a break for ten damn minutes?"

"Just stating an issue. Overall it's a better plan than giving them rocket launchers."

"Thanks for that ringing endorsement." John silently sought his other teammates' approval, which Teyla was now more than willing to grant. Ronon gave a nod as well, and they walked back toward the field's center, where Cestan waited expectantly.

"We have a counter-offer," John began. "The leader of our expedition is an experienced diplomat. We would like to open a dialogue between your people and the Nistra. With a impartial third party to guide the negotiations, maybe some misunderstandings can be cleared up and a new agreement reached."

Teyla watched the governor carefully, alert for any sign of duplicity. When Cestan responded after a pause, his answer seemed considered, not contrived. "I am not confident about the chances for success at such a venture," he admitted. "It has been tried before, though never with an outside mediator." He lifted an unwavering gaze to meet John's. "But what would we be if we did not try?"

The Colonel smiled. "We hoped you'd see it that way. We can provide security for the talks. Somewhere neutral, probably close to the Hall, would be best."

"I agree. Perhaps we can avoid some of the acrimony of past encounters. What would you ask in return for your efforts?"

Rodney plunged ahead before anyone else could speak. "A small amount of adarite and a whip for us to start our research."

Without blinking, Cestan turned to Men' se. "Find Vanil and ask him to bring a fist of adarite from the vault. Then go to the armory and fetch a whip."

The warrior immediately moved to obey, disappearing through the doorway. Rodney wasn't finished, though. "And an opportunity to study the Hall. You can send your people along to baby-sit if you want, and I won't take so much as a pocketknife with me for defense, but I have to get in there."

At first Teyla worried that the scientist's demand might stall the pact. Then Cestan replied, "In the morning, I will send a messenger to the border under a flag of conference. If Galven, the Nistra leader, agrees, you will be granted entrance to the Hall when negotiations begin."

"Sounds fair," said John, glancing at his watch. The sun was already sinking toward the horizon. "We have to check in at home pretty soon. Can we send someone back tomorrow to wait for Galven's response?"

"I will send an escort to the gate to await your return. Until then, please accept the other elements of our accord as a gesture of friendship."

Merise soon reappeared with an additional whip, followed by a shorter man carrying a canteen-sized box. Smiling in what appeared to be genuine goodwill, Cestan placed the whip in John's hands and the box in Rodney's. "I thank you for your willingness to seek peace for our world. It is possible that you may be the ones to finally bring it within our reach."

Having opened the box to peer inside, Rodney answered dismissively while examining his prize. "Believe me, the pleasure is ours."