Aaron Rosenberg - Hunt and run

“Can they follow us here?” Ronon asked, relaxing only slightly. He relaxed a bit more when Nekai shook his head.

“Not a chance,” the Retemite assured him, removing and pocketing the square. “I’ve scrambled the record of that last connection.”

Ronon studied him. There was definitely something the stocky man wasn’t saying. “How do you know?” he demanded. “We’re here, they’re there. How can you be sure?”

“Because I’ve been here before,” Nekai answered easily, “and I’ve even used the same ring to reach this place twice in a row. I know how to recall the last destination entered, and when I tried it I got nothing. So I know scrambling it works.”

Ronon nodded. That made sense. And it fit with Nekai’s sense of caution. Of course he’d go back to a world he’d just come from, to make sure he’d removed all traces of his previous passage. “What was that little square thing?” he asked. “Is that what did it?” He’d never heard of anything that could affect an ancestral ring or its console, but his education in that area was admittedly limited.

“Just something I picked up in some old ruins a while back,” Nekai answered. “Come on.” He was already leaving the clearing and Ronon caught up to him in two long strides. The other man had his stun-pistol tucked in his belt but Ronon kept his own weapon drawn. He believed Nekai that the Wraith couldn’t follow them here through the ring, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t found some other way to track them. Or that there weren’t other threats nearby.

They seemed to be high up, he noticed as they half-walked, half-climbed. The air was thin and cold, and he almost considered putting on the Wraith leather coat he’d so recently acquired. But the idea of something from the Wraith touching his skin made him shiver worse than the cool breeze, so he kept the garment wadded in his other hand instead. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he was keeping it, since he wouldn’t ever wear it, but something in him had wanted a trophy. And perhaps he’d find some other use for the garment some day.

The ground was rough here, all rock and stone with only whatever dirt the wind had carried to them, and soon Ronon had to holster his pistol and tie the coat around his waist so he could free his hands for climbing. Nekai didn’t speak and so Ronon didn’t either, concentrating instead upon finding handholds and footholds through the crevices and up the cliffs and along the ledges that formed their current path.

Finally, after several hours of difficult travel, Nekai crested a small rise and nodded. Joining him, Ronon saw a small valley nestled into the rocks just below them — and something filling that space. Something large.

A spaceship.

“You keep this hidden here?” Ronon asked as he followed the Retemite down a narrow trail to the valley and up to the ship. He was impressed — he knew Nekai was resourceful, but stashing an entire ship here just for emergencies? That was something!

“There aren’t any ancestral rings where we’re going,” Nekai responded, pulling a gray-brown tarp from the small ship and keying a code into the panel beside the airlock. The lights on the panel shifted to green and the door hissed as it slid open. He stepped inside, carrying the bundled-up tarp with him, and Ronon quickly followed.

It was a simple vessel, not unlike ones Ronon had traveled in or even flown during his military days. Bare bones, no frills but good sturdy construction, decent shields but only a single gun and that only for last-ditch efforts — firing the weapon would probably drain the ship’s power completely. This thing wasn’t built for long-range travel, or for combat. It was strictly a shuttle.

Ronon scanned the sky through the viewport as Nekai slid into the pilot’s seat and began powering up the engines. “We heading to that moon?” he asked, pointing at a faint crescent high in the sky.

Nekai hid it quickly, but Ronon saw the other man’s eyes widen for a second. “How did you know?” he demanded.

“Just figured,” Ronon answered with a shrug. He hid his grin and dropped into the co-pilot chair. Nice to know that even after these months of training he could still surprise the Retemite.

“Not bad,” his mentor admitted, shaking his head. “I knew I was right about you.” He didn’t say anything further, but hit the thrusters. The ship groaned as power surged through it, then shuddered slightly as it lifted off the ground. It hovered for a second, adjusting its fields, and then shot into the sky with enough force that Ronon was pressed back into his seat. Seconds later the pressure eased as the planet’s atmosphere fell away behind them, and they were out among the stars.

Ronon had always enjoyed space travel. There was something very freeing about floating through the galaxy, untethered by gravity, surrounded by the welcoming dark of space and the comforting twinkling of the many stars and other bodies it contained. It was beautiful up here, and soothing. This was the first time Ronon had been in space since his capture — or at least the first time he had been able to see it, since during his captivity he’d been held deep within a Hive somewhere — and he released a deep breath and let some of the tension ease out of him. Sometimes he thought he could simply stay up here forever.

It never lasted, though, and this trip was no exception. Already Nekai was turning the shuttle, curving its path around the planet and angling toward the moon that floated there, just out of reach. It was a small moon, blue-gray in color though its surface sparkled where the sun’s rays struck it. Judging from their trajectory, Nekai was bringing them toward its dark side, out of sight of both sun and planet.

“What, you have a secret base up there?” Ronon asked idly, studying the moon as it drew quickly closer.

“Something like that,” his companion replied. He didn’t say any more, and Ronon decided not to press it. He’d find out soon enough.

Nekai proved to be a competent pilot if not a good one, and the shuttle jolted a bit as it came in for a landing on the pitted surface of the moon. Ronon pressed back into his chair, letting it absorb most of the impact, but was still tossed about as the shuttle set down. At least there wasn’t a tearing sound coming from the underside, so he didn’t think Nekai’s fumbling had ruptured the hull. If it had, they’d know soon enough.

When the ship had halted its motion, groaning to a stop, Nekai shut everything down. “Suit up,” he instructed, tossing a light atmospheric suit at Ronon and grabbing another himself off the rack occupying the shuttle’s side wall. Ronon did so quickly — the suit was a standard one, much like the ones he had used as a Specialist, and was easily donned, sealed, and activated. He noticed as he did so that the rack still held six suits. Were they just spares, or was Nekai not the only one who used this shuttle — or this moon?

Once they both had their helmets on and oxygen pumping through, Nekai opened the airlock and hopped out. Ronon was right behind him. The moon had very little gravity, so his first step outside carried him several meters away in a slow arc. He’d have to be careful about that. It had been a while since he’d had to move in microgravity.

With the shuttle shut up tight again, Nekai motioned for Ronon to stay close. Then he crouched and sprang, his momentum carrying him halfway to a cluster of nearby ridges, their shapes perfectly conical without an atmosphere to deform them. Ronon took off after the shorter man, his longer legs propelling him quickly, and he caught up in two strides, just in time to avoid slamming into those precipices. They were shorter than he’d first thought, perhaps fifty meters tall, and Nekai’s next bound carried him straight up — he grabbed the closest cone near its top and hung there, waiting for Ronon to join him.