James Swallow - Halcyon

John's hands contracted into fists. The man's patronizing tone was like nails down a chalkboard. "I could take you for a look, if you'd like," he retorted, "you might find it a little chilly up there, though." Ronon's suggestion about the airlock was starting to seem like a good idea.

Daus gave a languid nod of his head. "The people of Halcyon thank you for your bravery in their defense," he noted, "but I am afraid that this matter requires a different solution."

Inwardly, Sheppard sagged. "Let's hear it. What do you want?" This is going to be the Genii thing all over again…

"You recall the rogue Wraith I spoke of? The one we call Scar?"

"Yeah…"

"It is to my eternal disappointment that I have never been able to kill that creature, and our recent venture to the forest of Carras rekindled my hate for the beast. My proposal is a modest one, Lieutenant Colonel. Bring me Scar, dead or alive, and in return my men will see that Dr. McKay is safely returned to your company."

Sheppard blinked. "You want us to hunt the Wraith for you?"

"If you think you are capable," sniffed Muruw.

"That's all?" Ronon asked. "What's the catch?"

Daus smiled, showing teeth. "Ah, such bravery! But be warned, Runner. Scar is a deadly adversary. He has the blood of many hunters on his hands."

Sheppard exchanged looks with Teyla and Ronon. Each of them knew that there was more to this than the Magnate was letting on, but they had little choice. Once more, they were being forced to play along. "All right. We get you something you can have stuffed and mounted, you deliver Dr. McKay."

The Magnate clapped his hands. "Splendid! Muruw will provide you with charts of Scar's known feeding grounds. Best of luck, Lieutenant Colonel!"

Vekken watched the Atlanteans depart, letting the dagger-like glares from the Runner and the Athosian woman roll off him. He considered them both; the Runner was unapologetic about what he was, and in a way, he was to be admired for such honesty. But the man was crude and artless, and for all his prowess he lacked an understanding of combat's true grace and glory. Vekken understood that no amount of instruction would ever change Ronon Dex's mind. He was like the wild Wraith that way, too unstable to ever be made into Hounds, to be domesticated. On the other hand, the woman Teyla Emmagan was a contradiction. He found her attractive on the most visceral level and the adjutant had to admit that her skills were good; and yet, even though they shared the bond of the Wraithkin, he could not help but think of her as inferior. After all, she came from a planet of tribals who still participated in ridiculous deity worship rituals. Even though her master Sheppard had tried to dress her up in his people's uniform, she was still a primitive underneath. Vekken had hoped at the beginning that he might have been able to barter something to Sheppard in return for her indenture, but he saw now that this was unlikely. Sheppard was the strangest of them all, a peculiar mixture of the strong and the weak who had no right to call himself a soldier… And yet here he was, against all odds. Vekken looked up and the Lord Magnate beckoned him closer. He wondered if his master would order him to kill these Atlanteans today. The adjutant sensed that such a decision was very close at hand, and it surprised Vekken how contemplation of it troubled him. But then, he was not a man to challenge his master's commands; Vekken was, above all things, a weapon in the hands of the Magnate. He did not have the luxury of questions, of guilt, of hesitation.

He bowed low. "Your Highness?"

"Have a gyro-flyer track the Atlantean vessel's movements. I want you to keep yourself informed via telekrypter of all that transpires during their hunt."

"Your will, My Lord."

Daus considered him for a moment. "Tell me, Vekken. Do you think the Atlanteans will be able to fulfill my mandate? As a warrior, how do you estimate their chances of taking Scar?"

"A difficult question, Highness," admitted the adjutant. "They fight with competence, their weapons are formidable… But they find it hard to kill. The purity of that instinct is lacking in them, their leader most of all."

The Magnate bent close to Vekken, his voice falling to a low murmur. "Just so," he agreed. "I find myself hoping that the beast Scar will serve me today. I imagine that the Wraith will kill them all, and rid me of these outworlders."

Vekken felt a thrill of shock but did not show it. "If I may beg to say, Highness, but what will you do if they succeed in the hunt?"

"Ah," said Daus, sounding out the word. "In that event, it would be better that Sheppard's people never live to tell of it. After all, it would be detrimental to the well being of our society if our people believe that outworlders made so important a kill. Better that the nobility be seen to have done such a thing. Don't you agree?"

"As you command," Vekken replied.

The Magnate nodded again. "I do indeed."

The Puddle Jumper made it across the countryside in half the time of the fast helo that had taken them to the forest enclosure the previous day. Sheppard concentrated on flying the ship at tree top level while Ronon, Teyla and Private Bishop went through weapons checks in the back of the cabin. With poor grace, Staff Sergeant Mason accepted Sheppard's orders to remain with the injured Corporal Clarke and Beckett's team. He had insisted the senior man stay behind, putting his trust in the SAS soldier to keep the others safe while John's team went on their hunter's outing.

There was one other command Sheppard had given, this time to Carson, and it wasn't an order that sat well with him. Things were moving fast now, and despite Teyla's suggestion that the Wraith orbiter hadn't been broadcasting, the colonel didn't want to take that for fact. He gave Beckett the full story and reluctantly told him to get in contact with Atlantis. Weir had to be told what was going on here, and if that meant risking a radio signal through an open wormhole to the ocean planet, then so be it. He knew that Carson had the ear of Daus's daughter, and he trusted the doctor to use his influence to get a message through the Gate even if he didn't trust Erony. After all, the Magnate had decreed that nobody was allowed to travel through the Stargate; he hadn't said anything about beaming communications through it.

"Any sign of that chopper that was following us, boss?" asked Bishop, slamming an ammunition clip into his assault rifle.

The colonel glanced at a sensor-scope on the head-up display. "He's still out there behind us, runnin' his throttle at maximum in a vain attempt to keep up."

"Maybe you should cloak us," said Ronon, "give them a real fright."

Sheppard shook his head. "Nah, I'm saving that surprise in case we need it. Never hurts to keep an ace up your sleeve."

They made a quick circuit of the enclosure as Teyla pored over the paper map that Muruw had grudgingly given to them. "This document shows several locations where the Wraith Scar was sited." She pointed to the west. "That is the most recent."

"I'll look for somewhere to put us down." He slowed the Jumper, searching for a clearing.

Behind him, Bishop was peering at the hand-held scanner. "Red dots mean Wraiths, right?"

"Yup,"

"That's not good, sir. This thing looks like it's got the measles." The soldier held up the device; the small screen was speckled with shifting red symbols spread out over the entire area.

Ronon stroked his chin. "We could hit them from the air with the drones. That might thin them out a little."

Sheppard nodded. "Nice idea, but we have to bring this creep back intact, remember? Somehow I'm guessing Daus won't accept a bunch of Wraith cold cuts instead." A clearing appeared to port and he put the ship into a hover. "Here we go. I want a quick dispersal when we hit the dirt. Two fire teams; Ronon's with me, Teyla goes with Bishop."