Aaron Rosenberg - Hunt and run

He had winged one of the commanders before they could duck away, and now he targeted that one, circling the tree it was using for cover. They traded shots back and forth before Ronon was able to swing around the other side and lash out with his sword. The blade bit deep through Wraith leather and flesh, and he heard the commander gasp in pain as he dropped to his knees. Ronon was pivoting back around the trunk again in an instant, sword flashing as it leapt forward to strike the Wraith’s head from his shoulders.

One down, two to go.

But those two were firmly entrenched now, and the other V’rdai hadn’t been able to get the drop on them yet. Nor could Ronon, not without running right into their weapons fire.

“We need to go!” Nekai shouted, aiming at one Wraith but just missing him and striking the tree instead. Chunks of bark and wood flew.

“Not without Setien!” Ronon insisted. He looked for a way to get behind the Wraith but didn’t see one.

“They’ll have reinforcements on the way!” Nekai insisted. “We’ll all get killed — or captured!” The thought made Ronon shiver. But he wouldn’t abandon her. He couldn’t!

One of the two remaining Wraith fired upward again, and Ronon heard something snap up among the leaves. Then he heard what sounded like a strong wind — but it was coming straight down.

“Look out!” Banje yelled, ducking back behind a tree. The others followed his lead, except for Ronon — the Wraith were taking refuge as well, and he used the opportunity to cross the space to one of them. The Wraith commander had just enough time to glance up when Ronon’s shadow fell across him, sword blade and pistol bolt right behind it and both centered on his head.

The Wraith’s body dropped, Ronon turned —

— and leaped backward to avoid being crushed by a large shape as it crashed to the ground right beside him.

It was only when he picked himself up again that he realized it was Setien. The last shot must have struck one of the branches supporting her, and the others couldn’t hold her weight alone. Or it had severed the vine itself. Either way, she had plummeted more than twenty meters — for a second he berated himself for not trying to catch her, then admitted that was ridiculous. Falling from that height, she would have crushed him, and then they would both be dead.

For there was no question as to whether she’d survive. Not anymore. Ronon dropped to his knees beside her, trying not to notice the way her limbs were bent in every direction, or where bone poked through flesh. He ignored the blood seeping into the ground all around him, soaking his pants where his knees touched, and reached for her head. She was still alive, her eyes still blinking, though they were already glazing over and blood was trickling from her nose and mouth and ears.

“Always. knew. fruit would be. the death. of me,” she whispered thickly, and Ronon tried to smile. Behind him the remaining Wraith stirred — Setien’s impact had stunned him — then cried out and thrashed and stilled as five V’rdai shot him at once. But Ronon ignored them all.

“You can’t die,” he told Setien. “Who’s going to whip my ass in the ring?”

She managed a weak smile, though one side of her face didn’t respond. “Next. time,” she managed. Then her whole body convulsed and went slack, and the light faded from her eyes. She was gone.

Ronon didn’t know how long he sat like that, her head cradled in his hands, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. “We have to go,” Banje told him, his voice even softer than usual.

“I know.” Ronon laid her on the ground as gently as he could and allowed the other man to help him to his feet. He also knew they couldn’t bring Setien back with them. Not with the tracking device still imbedded in her back. She’d lead the Wraith right to their base the first time the rest of the team went out on a mission. And she wouldn’t have wanted that.

Turen stepped up beside Ronon and handed him something without a word. It was a pear, one of the ones from the trap, slightly bruised now but still fresh. Ronon nodded his thanks and placed it in Setien’s shattered hands, then clasped them around the fruit. If there was an afterlife, she wouldn’t arrive empty-handed.

Then he turned and let the others lead him back toward the ancestral ring. None of them spoke, not even Adarr. Ronon knew there had been other V’rdai before him, but not many of them, and not for a long time. Setien had been part of the unit for years. Things would never be the same without her.

They had a second nasty surprise when they got within sight of the ring. There were Wraith troops stationed around it, and several Darts whizzing overhead. Obviously the Wraith were finally taking them seriously, but now was exactly the wrong time for them to have to fight their way home.

Fortunately, someone must have discovered the three dead commanders soon after they left the scene. Within minutes of reaching the ring Ronon and the others saw the Darts take off, heading in the direction of the trap. Half of the troops followed. Only a handful remained to defend the ring, and they seemed to think they were safe from attack in the middle of a clearing. The V’rdai cut them down quickly, then sprinted to the ring as Nekai worked the controls, dialing open a portal and setting it to scramble the signal once they’d passed through.

A minute later, the gate closed behind them. They took two more jumps before returning to the shuttle, just to make sure no one had followed them.

Ronon barely remembered any of it.

“Nekai’s back!”

Adarr’s shout startled the rest into motion, Ronon included. It had been almost two months since Setien’s death, and over three weeks since their leader had taken a shuttle and disappeared. Ronon had thought at first that it was simply a reaction to Setien’s death, but the others had told him that Nekai had done this a few times before — and the last two times it had been to recruit first Adarr and then Ronon himself. So none of them were too surprised a few minutes later when they saw four people step in through the dome’s airlock: Frayne and Banje, who had gone to escort the new arrivals in once their systems had detected the approaching shuttle, Nekai, and one other.

Female, Ronon determined as he and Adarr and Turen joined the others. Average height, narrow build, the same loping gait he and Nekai and Banje possessed. Turen had an even more fluid walk, graceful and quick and quiet despite her shorter legs, and neither Frayne nor Adarr had ever fully mastered the hunter’s stride. But this woman clearly had.

“You’re back!’ As when he’d first arrived, Ronon noticed that Turen approached Nekai rapidly, fast enough and with enough enthusiasm that he thought the little Hiñati woman would throw herself on the stocky Retemite, but at the last minute she slowed down and gave him a quick, awkward embrace instead. Frayne caught Ronon’s gaze and rolled his eyes. As bunkmates, the two of them had plenty of time to sit and talk at night, and more than once the conversation had turned to Turen’s obvious obsession with Nekai. Ronon had judged it equal parts hero worship, physical desire, and genuine affection. Frayne, being less kind, had ignored the third possibility and insisted it was entirely because Nekai had saved her and so was now this magnificent but untouchable figure in her eyes. Certainly the “untouchable” part seemed true — the rest of them all knew about her interest but if Nekai ever noticed he never acknowledged it, and Turen had never once acted on it.

This time was proving to be no exception.

Except that the newcomer’s reaction was interesting. She’d stepped closer to Nekai when Turen had approached, almost but not quite putting herself in the shorter woman’s way. And the minute Turen disengaged and stepped back the new woman slid even closer, her arm brushing against Nekai’s side. Possessive, Ronon recognized. The woman was staking her claim. And Nekai didn’t react one way or another — he didn’t reciprocate but he didn’t move away either.