Aaron Rosenberg - Hunt and run

Judging by Turen’s scowl, she had seen it as well.

“Welcome back,” Ronon told Nekai, edging past Turen to offer Nekai his hand once the Retemite had pulled off his helmet. “Glad you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Nekai assured him and all of them, exchanging greetings with the others as well. “Everything here okay?”

“Fine,” Banje answered, having already shucked his suit as well, but the one-word answer was even more flat than usual for the terse Desedan. Of course none of them were fine. There was still a large, Setien-shaped hole in their midst. It was impossible not to notice it — when they were eating, when they were parceling out chores, when they were training, when they were sparring. Especially when they were sparring. Banje and Turen had taken to double-teaming Ronon, and the pair worked together extremely well, his skill and experience coupled with her speed and agility, but it wasn’t the same. So yes, they were fine: they were healthy, they’d kept up their practice and training, they were eating and exercising and even sleeping.

But they weren’t well. Not by a long shot.

The newcomer had removed her helmet now, revealing a narrow face with sharp, angular features, dark brown hair pulled back in a severe bun, and black eyes that flickered constantly across them all. “Everyone, meet Lanara,” Nekai introduced her, and Ronon saw Turen bristle at the obvious pride in his voice. “The newest member of the V’rdai.”

“I’m Adarr.” Of course the tall Fenabian was the first to welcome her. He offered a hand but pulled it back after she didn’t clasp it, accepting her curt nod instead.

“Ronon.” He got a similar nod. So she wasn’t a touchy-feely type. She was still standing awfully close to Nekai, though. Ronon had seen enough body language back in the Satedan military to be fairly sure the two had slept together, and more than once. That was going to make matters. complicated.

Frayne and Banje introduced themselves as well, and finally Turen gave the new woman a grudging nod. “Turen,” she muttered, shooting daggers at Nekai and barely sparing Lanara a glance. Oh yes, definitely complicated.

“Lanara is Kadrean,” Nekai told them. “Her people are some of the finest hunters in the galaxy, and Lanara is one of the best they’ve ever produced. That’s why I was able to return so quickly — she’s already a better hunter than I’ll ever be. We just needed to adapt her skills to hunting Wraith.”

“They’re a lot slower than alca-beasts,” Lanara announced, her thin lips pulling back in a vicious smile. “And less dangerous close up.” Her voice matched the rest of her, clear and sharp. Ronon wondered if she’d always been like this, or if becoming a Runner had stripped away any calmer emotions she might have possessed. He’d probably been just as brusque when he’d first arrived, but he’d still had some sense of humor buried deep inside. Of course, for him it had been three months since his capture. For her, assuming Nekai had found her as quickly, it had been only a few weeks. He couldn’t fault her for still being raw. He just wondered if that would ease with time.

“Have you been out since I left?” Nekai was asking Banje, and frowned when the Desedan shook his head. “Well, we need to fix that. I know we’re all still upset about Setien’s death, but sitting here doesn’t do her memory any honor. We need to remember her the way she’d want most, by laughing in the face of danger and killing as many Wraith as possible.”

“And eating fresh fruit whenever we find it,” Frayne muttered, which brought a smile to everyone’s faces. Everyone except Lanara and Turen, who were now busy glaring at each other.

Nekai had smiled along with the rest of them, but now that glimpse of humor vanished. “It’s time we got serious,” he informed them gravely. “We’ve been taking the fight to the Wraith when we can, yes — and sometimes even when we probably shouldn’t.” That last had been accompanied by a quick glance at Ronon, but he only grinned in reply. “But now we have to do more. We need to manufacture situations to draw them in, set bigger traps, lure more Wraith to their death. Ronon’s scheme with the dead shuttle worked beautifully, and took out an entire cruiser! We have to set more snares like that. Maybe even find a way to trap the ancestral rings themselves, so we can take out a Dart as it passes through.”

He was pacing now, and the others watched him intently, knowing there was more their leader wished to say. Lanara had been forced to back away to give him room as he moved, and Ronon didn’t miss the victorious smirk Turen sent her way. If Nekai thought the two women were going to bunk together, someone would have to disabuse him of that notion, and quickly. Otherwise Lanara wouldn’t last a week — she might be an excellent hunter, but up close no one could match Turen with a blade.

But Nekai was speaking again. “We also need to accept the fact that sometimes, the Wraith may not be our only targets.” That pronouncement met with stunned silence, and he stopped moving and looked at each of them in turn before nodding. “Yes, you heard me right. There are people out there, despicable people, who not only do not stand against the Wraith but who actively help them.”

Beside him, Lanara’s face twisted into an ugly scowl of pure hate. “My people fell,” she declared, “because one of our elders struck a deal with the Wraith. She gave up our patrol patterns and shut down our security grid in exchange for a guarantee of personal safety.” Her words emerged like blows, each one expelled by bitterness. “My whole world gone, just so she could save her own skin.”

Nekai nodded. “It’s people like that we may run up against from time to time,” he warned. “Especially since we’ve been making a mark on the Wraith. There’s a reason they changed their hunting patterns, and that’s because they’re scared. Of us.” He gave them a few seconds to appreciate that fact. “But that means they’ve put the word out as well. They don’t know much about us, since we don’t leave any of them alive to talk, but they must know by now that we’re a band of Runners and that we’re hunting them in turn. They’ll have warned every planet under their control, and there will be standing orders to bring us in if we’re found.” He frowned. “Some people would do so only to protect their own people, and I can’t entirely fault them for that. But others would turn us in to save themselves alone, or to curry favor with the Wraith.” He scowled. “And those people are no better than the Wraith themselves. Which means we must treat them the same way.”

“You want us to hunt them?” Adarr asked. “How?”

“No, not hunt them,” Nekai corrected. “We’re still hunting Wraith and Wraith alone. But if we run across those who willingly help the Wraith, we must treat them as enemies. And deal with them accordingly.”

Ronon nodded. This was war, after all. Anyone who chose to side with the enemy became the enemy. He knew that, and knew he’d have no problem pulling the trigger on such a person. Neither would Banje or, judging from her expression, Lanara. He wasn’t sure how Frayne or Adarr or Turen would handle such a situation.

With any luck, they wouldn’t ever have to find out.

They spent the next two weeks together in the dome, the V’rdai now back up to seven. Ostensibly they were waiting for Nekai to regain his bearings and work out a new plan of attack against the more alert and organized Wraith hunting parties, but everyone knew the truth — they were taking the time to get used to their newest member.

And Lanara definitely took some getting used to.

She was fine at sparring, fast and wiry with sharp reflexes and excellent balance. Her melee skills were solid, though Turen delighted in trouncing her new rival several times in a row, until Lanara acknowledged that she’d never be as good with blades. What she lacked in close-in fighting, however, she made up for at distance. It turned out that Lanara was phenomenal at ranged combat — she had the best aim Ronon had ever seen, and could place bullet, arrow, or knife perfectly on target time after time from a hundred paces, whether standing, running, or dodging and rolling. After watching her shoot and throw and after sparring with her several times in the ring, Ronon knew he wouldn’t have to worry about whether she could handle herself on a hunt.