Aaron Rosenberg - Hunt and run

The tall man stared, and his pistol dropped down to point at the ground between his feet. “Ronon? You’re alive?” Sheppard couldn’t see his face, but he was guessing the man’s mouth was hanging open. “It’s true?”

Ronon shrugged. “I don’t know what’s true,” he replied, “but yes it’s me, and yes, I’m still alive.” He grinned.

The man he’d called Adarr was still in shock. “Nekai said — ” His words trailed off. “I thought you were — ”

“Dead? Captured?” Ronon moved closer, holstering his pistol as he did. “I did get captured again, actually. But that was a long time ago now. I escaped. And now I’m free. No tracking device, Adarr. The Wraith can’t find me.”

“What? But — how?” They were only a few feet apart, and the thin man seemed to suddenly realize that. “Stay back!” he insisted, starting to raise his pistol. “I mean it, Ronon! I will shoot you!”

Before he had the chance, however, Ronon had closed the distance. The big Satedan covered the last few feet with a single quick step, one hand shooting down to trap Adarr’s pistol and keep it pointed at the ground. The other fist rose and lashed out, catching the tall man hard on the jaw. Adarr crumpled without a sound, and Ronon caught him.

“You probably would have,” Sheppard heard his friend admit quietly as he quickly tied Adarr’s ankles and wrists. “I’m sorry.”

“We have to hurry,” Rodney said as he finally reached them. He drew a knife from his belt and began cutting Teyla’s bonds. “The others could come back at any time.”

Ronon nodded and drew his own knife. Within seconds Sheppard and Teyla were free.

“Took you long enough,” Sheppard told his friends, rubbing his wrists. But he was smiling as he said it.

“Had to keep the rest of them occupied,” Ronon answered, returning his grin. He turned serious again in a second. “Rodney’s right,” he admitted, though having to say that clearly galled him. “They could be back soon. We need to move.”

Sheppard nodded and grabbed the guards’ fallen pistols. Rodney had apparently paused earlier, where the guards had been camping, and he handed Sheppard and Teyla their P90s without a word. Then the four of them walked quickly back toward the end of the ledge — if there was another way off, Sheppard couldn’t see it.

Ronon led, moving as quickly and quietly as ever, and Sheppard took the rear, making sure Rodney and Teyla were clear before he hauled himself up onto that outcropping overhead. Now wasn’t the time to ask questions. But once they were safely away, Ronon had some explaining to do.

“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.”