Hunt and run

Chapter Twenty-five

“You’ve got some explaining to do, mister.”

They had hiked for an hour or more, glancing around constantly in case the remaining strangers found their tracks. Ronon would lead them for a ways, then guide them to a clearing or a cluster of rocks or a small ledge and leave them there while he circled back and hid their tracks. Those had been particularly tense moments, with Sheppard, Teyla, and Rodney starting at every little sound or shadow. They’d have come close to shooting Ronon himself a few times if he hadn’t simply appeared beside them and blocked their weapons before they could react — by the time they could wrestle free, their brains had registered who it was.

Eventually Ronon led them to a series of low cliffs. He knelt and brushed aside some scraggly bushes that were growing against the rock, and Rodney groaned.

“Again?” he whined. “Really?”

“Again,” Ronon agreed. The displaced foliage revealed a dark hole in the stone — its smoothed edges and irregular outline suggested it was natural. Probably a fissure that had simply expanded over time. But now it was a cave.

Ronon gestured them in, and followed a few minutes later after sweeping away their remaining tracks and concealing the cave’s entrance again. By the time he did, the others had shuffled deeper into the hidden passage, which widened and rose slightly as it went. Luckily this world didn’t seem to have any native fauna, so they didn’t have to battle a bear or a cougar for the prime location. There was a section where they could sit and stretch their legs out in front of them, and they did so, Sheppard on one side and Rodney next to him. Teyla was sitting facing them, and when Ronon returned he slid down beside her.

“We’re safe for now,” he told them quietly. “They won’t find us here.”

“Good, great, glad to hear it,” Sheppard said. He did his best to glare at his friend in the near-darkness — some hairline cracks above filtered in just enough light for him to make out the others’ outlines, but nothing more. “So let’s talk. You first.”

He could just barely see the Satedan’s slow nod. “They’re called the V’rdai,” he said. “They’re Runners who’ve banded together to hunt the Wraith instead of the other way around.” He sighed. “I used to be one of them.”

As Ronon explained about his past, and his association with these people, Sheppard marveled. Ronon was one of his best friends, someone he trusted with his life without a second thought. They’d fought together countless times, saved each other more times than he could count, and hung out together both at Atlantis and at some of the towns and cities they’d visited. Yet for all that, he’d never heard any of this before. He’d known about Ronon’s upbringing on Sateda, and had heard a bunch of stories about Ronon’s grandfather, who’d also been a military man. He knew about the Wraith’s attack, and about Ronon’s dead wife, Melena. And he knew far more than he’d ever wanted to about the Wraith and how they’d captured Ronon and turned him into a Runner.

But all this? A group of Runners? Ronon learning to hunt? This was all completely new to him.

Finally Ronon stopped talking and leaned back. He hadn’t rushed, but Sheppard knew the big man was only telling them the crucial details. There were probably lots of stories there as well.

“Why didn’t you ever mention any of this?” he asked finally. “You were with them for two years! You never thought it might be important to tell us there were other Runners out there? And that they liked hunting innocent bystanders just as much as Wraith?”

“I didn’t know if I could trust you,” Ronon answered sharply. “Not at first. And they were still my friends, and my comrades. I wasn’t about to betray them.” He shook his head. “By the time I knew you better, it didn’t seem like the right time to say anything. They were hidden away, and I figured we’d never run into them.” He sighed. “To be honest, I thought they’d all be dead by now.”

“Why?” Teyla asked. “You are not.”

“But I would be,” Ronon told her. “If you hadn’t found me first.”

Sheppard thought about that one. His friend was probably right. Surviving on his own with the Wraith pursuing him for five long years was unbelievable. Eventually, Ronon’s luck would have run out.

“Okay, so how do we keep them from killing us now?” he asked. “I mean, going up against six of you? I don’t like those odds.”

“Not exactly like me,” Ronon replied. “None of them can take me in a fight — at least, none of the old V’rdai could. I don’t know these new ones.”

“Which ones are old and which ones are new?” Teyla asked. “We saw their leader, who the others referred to as Nekai. Then there was the tall man, Adarr.”

“An angry woman, narrow build,” Sheppard added to the list. “The short guy you landed on when you rescued us — thanks, by the way. And two more — I’m not sure if they were men or women.”

“One was a woman,” Rodney told him. “Dark skin, darker hair, strong jaw. Striking, if you like that type.”

“The other was a man,” Ronon finished. “Average height, reddish hair, green eyes, full beard. I don’t know him, or the short one, or the dark-skinned woman. The angry woman, though — that’s Lanara.” Sheppard could hear the sneer in his voice. “She’s probably Nekai’s second in command now.”

Sheppard noticed the last word. “She wasn’t back then?”

“No, Banje was,” Ronon said. “He was good, too. I’m glad we don’t have to face him.” He did sound relieved, but he also sounded sad, and Sheppard understood why. Other than Ronon himself, it was clear that being a V’rdai had only one possible end. If this Banje wasn’t there, it must mean he was dead. “Lanara was Nekai’s lover,” Ronon continued. “She’s dangerous, too. Angry, bitter, and a trained hunter. She’s also got amazing aim with guns, knives, pretty much anything.”

“You said Adarr was a mechanic,” Rodney commented. “Before, when we were about to blow up their shuttle.”

“He is — a really good one, too,” Ronon agreed. “He was never much of a fighter, or a hunter. He used to be really friendly, actually, and talked all the time.” He shook his head. “I guess he’s changed.”

“And Nekai?” Sheppard asked.

“He’s an amazing hunter,” Ronon admitted. “Decent in a fight but not great. Good tactician, but too controlling — he doesn’t tell people what they’re doing or why, just where to go.”

Sheppard nodded. “Okay, so we’ve got three known quantities and three unknown,” he summed up. “Did you kill the ones at the shuttle or just stun them?”

“Stunned them,” Ronon answered. “Bound and gagged them, too.” That made sense — Ronon had known some of these people, once been part of their unit, so killing them would be tough. Besides, killing the first two could have sent the others over the edge, making them crazed and completely unpredictable. Leaving them alive meant the others had to waste time untying them, but it also meant they were still angry but rational. And rational people could be outwitted.

“We need to know where they are,” Sheppard said finally. “And then we can figure out what to do about them.”

“Not a problem,” Rodney announced. “I should have thought of this earlier.” He fumbled with his jacket, pulling something from one of its pockets, then leaned back against the rock wall again. He had both hands cupped in front of him, and after a second a faint glow appeared between them. As his eyes adjusted Sheppard saw the light was coming from a small, flat device Rodney was holding. A life signs detector!

But his excitement at realizing the scientist had brought such a tool quickly faded as Rodney frowned and shook his head. “That’s weird,” he said, tapping the screen several times in rapid succession — Sheppard guessed he was entering codes and commands. “I’m not getting any life signs except for us,” Rodney reported finally, glancing up and around at the others. He scowled. “But that doesn’t make any sense. We know they’re out there.”

“We are in a cave,” Teyla pointed out. “Perhaps the rock all around us is interfering with the signal.”

“It shouldn’t,” Rodney replied. “I adapted this thing myself, and it’s got more than enough range. I’d explain how it worked but none of you would understand. Trust me, though — unless these cave walls are literally miles thick, they shouldn’t pose a problem.” He tapped in another command but continued to frown at the tiny screen.

“Maybe these rocks are special,” Sheppard offered. “Maybe something about them makes them more resistant to whatever energy you’re using for your scans.”

Rodney started to shake his head, then stopped. “That could be it,” he admitted. His fingers flitted across the monitor again, and then he raised it and turned slowly, scanning their surroundings. “Yes! The rocks here emit a low-level magnetic charge,” he explained. “It’s not enough to damage any electronics outright, but spread out over an area the charge creates a backdrop that swallows the scanning signal. Then the monitor filters all that out, leaving it with nothing.” As was often the case, he sounded excited even though this put them in considerable danger. Sheppard fought not to roll his eyes. What was it about scientists that they could happily die if they got to discover a new weapon or principle in the process?

“That’s why Nekai picked this place,” Ronon said. “He knows all the tricks for hiding and ambushing, and he must know about these rocks’ unusual properties. It’s the perfect place to set a trap. He knows we can’t find him here.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Rodney told him. “I can’t use the standard scanning frequencies, no. But that doesn’t mean I’m out of options.”

“You can scan for life signs with different energy?” Teyla asked.

“Not life signs, no,” Rodney admitted. “But other things, yes.” He glanced over at Ronon. “They’re all Runners, right?” The big Satedan nodded. “But they all still have their tracking devices?” Another nod. “Then I can reconfigure the scans and set them to the same frequency as the device we pulled out of you.” He retrieved a small tool from a breast pocket and used it to open the back of the monitor. Then he turned his back on the others and began fiddling with it, crouching and holding it close to the nearest wall so he could see by the reflected glow of the screen.

“You still remember that frequency?” Teyla asked. The surprise and even disbelief was clear in her voice.

Rodney didn’t even bother to face her, but Sheppard knew the scientist would be wearing his usual smug expression. “Of course. I had to program it in when the Wraith recaptured Ronon and inserted a second tracking device in him, remember? When I used it then, it showed seven different dots. I had to guess which was Ronon.” This time he did glance back over his shoulder before returning to his task. Yep, definitely smug. “Lucky for you I’m always right.” Sheppard stifled a groan, but only because in this enclosed space it would have been deafening. “But now it’ll only show them,” Rodney concluded. He closed the device back up and turned back around, then started typing in new commands. “And it’s a subspace frequency,” he explained, “so the rocks won’t interfere with the signals.” He finished his adjustments. “There!”

He held out the monitor, and Sheppard glanced over at it. Sure enough, the tiny screen now showed six dots, all clumped together. But even as he watched, they wavered and became two dots, then one dot, then four, then back to two. “Why is it doing that?”

Ronon leaned over to peer at the screen as well. “It’s the feedback,” he explained. “That’s why we all worked together in the first place — when we’re that close, our signals overlap. The Wraith can’t find us anymore.”

“Ah, but the Wraith aren’t me,” Rodney said proudly. “This little baby has better filters than any of their hardware.” He entered another command, then slid his finger along the edge of the screen, adjusting the scans’ sensitivity. “All I have to do,” he muttered, “is figure out the feedback level, and factor in that distortion. The scans will automatically compensate for it, adjusting their gain to bypass the effect, and — Voila!”

The shifting lights on the screen resolved into six clear dots — and stayed that way.

“Nice work, Rodney,” Sheppard admitted. Much as the scientist annoyed him sometimes — well, okay, almost all the time — he really was handy to have around. “Okay, so now we know where they are, and we can track them.” He studied the image, trying to mentally overlay a map of the area atop it. “That’s not the ledge we were on, so they must have found a new hiding place.”

“Standard procedure,” Ronon agreed. “We knew that location, so it was compromised.”

“Well, the good news is, they’re nowhere near the Jumper,” Rodney pointed out. “We can get back there and fix it and get the hell out of here. Good luck following us then!”

“We need to get the communications up and running first,” Sheppard told the others. “Calling Atlantis and telling them what’s going on has to be our first priority.”

But Ronon was shaking his head. “No calls,” he said. “That’ll only make matters worse.”

“Worse? How?” Rodney demanded. “You think having Woolsey send a squad to back us up and to stand guard while I repair the Jumper so we can get off this rock is a bad thing?”

“No, I think blowing up anyone coming through the gate — and maybe us with them — is a bad thing,” the big Satedan snapped in reply.

That statement got Sheppard’s full attention. “Wait, blow them up? What’re you talking about?”

“Nekai will have rigged the gate,” Ronon explained. “It was something he’d been thinking about before I left, and I’m sure he’s long since figured out the details. Dial any place without disabling the charge — even if it’s just to send a message through — and it’ll activate. Probably has a motion-sensor trigger, so it won’t go off until something moves within range. Then — Boom! Won’t hurt the gate itself, but it’ll probably vaporize anyone near it — and ‘near it’ could mean anywhere from a few meters away to half a light-year.”

Sheppard frowned. It made sense, given everything the V’rdai had already done to them. But that only added another worry to the list. “They’ll try to dial us,” he reminded his friends. “When it’s been thirty-six hours and we haven’t checked in, especially since this was supposed to be a quick rescue mission. And when they can’t reach us, they’ll send a team through.” That put a time limit on all this, and a tight one at that.

Ronon didn’t seem too fazed, however. “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “They won’t be able to dial the gate open from Atlantis. Nekai has it locked down — until we dismantle his lock or he removes it, no one can access the gate from the other side.”

Now Rodney was impressed. “So you think he perfected whatever he was using to do that? How?”

“I don’t know,” Ronon admitted. “Nekai never showed the rest of us that trick. He kept most of what he’d learned about the gates entirely to himself.” In the faint light of the small monitor Sheppard saw the big man’s mouth twist. “Just another way for him to keep us under his control.”

Rodney looked disappointed, and Sheppard couldn’t blame him. There was still so much they didn’t know about the Stargates and how they worked! “Maybe it’s something on his DHD,” Rodney mused, already caught up in the problem. He noticed the surprise on Sheppard’s face, though. “They scavenged one from a Wraith Dart — ask Ronon for the details. So maybe, when this mechanic of theirs jury-rigged it to his ship, he added a few features, and. ”

“This world has no gate of its own,” Teyla pointed out, bringing all of them back to the problems at hand. “Which means we will have to get the Jumper repaired, return to the gate we came through and disarm whatever trap Nekai has set there before we can return to Atlantis.”

Sheppard nodded. “So we get back to the Jumper and get it running again. Assuming we can.”

“Oh, I can fix it, no problem,” Rodney assured him. “I just need a little time. Preferably with no one shooting at me — for once. I’m sure I can figure out the lock on the gate, too, once I have a chance to study it.” Sheppard believed him, too. For all his bragging and all his arrogance, Rodney really was a genius, and the leading expert after Samantha Carter on the functions and uses of the stargates.

“He’ll have someone guarding the Jumper,” Ronon warned. “A pair, of course. They always move in pairs.”

“I noticed that,” Sheppard agreed. “Why is that? That feedback loop you were talking about before?”

Ronon nodded. “Exactly. The signal gets even more distorted when you add more Runners, but as long as you have two of them within five meters of each other, the Wraith can’t lock onto the signal.” He grinned, white teeth visible even in the shadows. “But we can. We’ve got two other things going for us. I know how they think, what they’ll do next. And I don’t have a tracking device. They won’t be able to find me with Nekai’s monitor. That’s even assuming Adarr tells him it was me.”

“You think he won’t?” Sheppard asked.

His friend shrugged. “I don’t know. Years ago, I would’ve said Adarr would tell Nekai — or anyone else — anything. He’s gotten hard, though. And he’s worried. He might keep it to himself until he’s sure what’s going on and why.”

“That will work to our advantage as well, if he does,” Teyla commented. “They will have no idea who to expect, or what your skills are, or how much you know about them.”

“Okay.” Sheppard sighed and forced his fatigue away. There would be plenty of time for sleep later, assuming they made it out of here and back to Atlantis in one piece. “Ronon, it’s your call. What do we do?”

The big Satedan grinned again. “I have a plan,” he announced, though softly. Sheppard listened while his friend outlined his idea. Rodney and Teyla were paying close attention as well. When Ronon finished, they all considered it.

“It’s risky,” Sheppard said finally. “But it should work.”

“It had better,” Rodney grumbled. “Otherwise we’ll never get out of here.”

“It’ll work,” Ronon assured them. “I know what I’m doing.” That much was certainly true. And the plan wasn’t the worst Sheppard had heard, or even the worst he’d put into effect.

“Right, let’s do it,” he said finally. “First thing in the morning.” He hunkered down, leaned his head back, rolled his shoulders to find a more comfortable position for them, and then shut his eyes. The fatigue was already rising up to wash over him in a soft blue fog. Within seconds he was asleep.

Rodney grumbled for a bit, complaining about damp caves and stone floors and hiding in caves and a whole host of other things. He shifted and wriggled the whole time, trying to find some imaginary soft spot on the hard rock, but his griping grew fainter and fainter, until at last he stopped talking altogether. That meant he must be asleep.

Teyla got up and switched sides so she was leaning next to Ronon. “Are you okay?” she asked him softly.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He had his eyes closed, and Teyla thought he’d probably been asleep until she’d spoken, but with Ronon it was sometimes hard to tell.

“These were your friends,” she pointed out. “They saved your life, took you in, and trained you. They were your first family after you became a Runner. They gave you purpose.” Ronon didn’t reply. “And now they are hunting us,” she continued after a minute. “They are trying to kill us. We may have to kill them in order to survive.”

“They made that choice,” Ronon replied. “Not me. They would have killed me long ago if I hadn’t escaped.” Now he did open his eyes to look at her. “We can’t afford to show them any mercy,” he warned, “because they have none.”

Teyla tried to imagine the world from the V’rdai’s point of view. “I can see where being a Runner would set you against everyone else,” she mused. “It is a very solitary way of life, isn’t it? You have to trust in yourself and no one else.”

“There’s trusting no one and there’s attacking everyone,” Ronon replied. “Two very different things.”

“You attacked us when we first met,” Teyla pointed out.

Ronon grunted. “You were armed and hunting someone yourself,” he reminded her. “Besides, I let you live.” Which was true. He’d been more than happy to kill the Wraith but he’d only stunned her and taken her hostage.

“But surely they have some valid basis for their caution,” Teyla argued. “There are times when not doing anything is more dangerous than taking action. What about that village, the one that gave you back to the Wraith? You didn’t attack them and they captured you and gave you to the Wraith anyway.”

“One frightened little village,” Ronon answered. “And they’d already paid the price for helping me once.” He shook his head. “You kill when you have to,” he declared. ‘When it’s you or them. Not when you think it could some day be you or them. Because if you think that way, anyone could turn on you. There’s always a ‘some day.’ And you’ll always be alone.”

Teyla smiled at him and rested one hand on his shoulder. “You are not alone, Ronon.”

Ronon nodded and smiled — a little. “I know,” he admitted softly. Then the smile disappeared. “Unfortunately, neither is Nekai.”

“I think you are wrong there,” Teyla responded. “He has the V’rdai, yes, but from what you have said he does not trust them enough to share his secrets. They are loyal, but they know he is withholding something, and that makes them nervous.” She shook her head. “No, I think he is alone, far more alone for all that he is surrounded by his followers.”

“You may be right,” Ronon admitted. “But tomorrow we’ll make sure he’s alone for real.” With that he closed his eyes again, leaned his head back, and was asleep once more. Teyla sighed and closed her eyes as well. It looked to be a long day tomorrow, and she knew it would be better if she went into it rested and alert. At least, as much as one could be in damp, dark, drafty cave, packed in with three friends.

One of whom snored.