Word Count: 21,777
Rating: PG13.
Category: AU. Angst. 
Story Status: Complete.  
Summary: Season 1 & 2.  Ronon Dex meets a displaced man, running from his own people in an Ancester-built ship...

WARNING: Two scenes deal with claustrophobic situations.

Thanks: Thank you to Jayne Perry for the beta-reading and to Luna for the wonderful cover art.


Rogue
By Leesa Perrie

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five.

Cover art by Luna
Cover art by Luna - for further artwork check out her LiveJournal here.

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Tell me what I'm supposed to do,
With all these leftover feelings of you…
…And tell me how I'm supposed to feel,
When all these nightmares become real,
'Cause I don't know…

Lyrics from ‘Roadside’ by Rise Again

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Chapter One – Runners

Ronon had been running from the Wraith for seven years and could see no end to it, except by his death.  But he had no intention of making his death easy and would kill as many Wraith as he could in the meantime.  His record of Wraith kills was impressive, and it pleased him that the hunted was also the hunter.  He’d added another one to his list, leaving the planet before they sent their darts after him.

The new planet that the Ring of the Ancestors took him to had been culled, a few months ago by the looks of things.  Terrible for the inhabitants, but at least it offered him a place to rest for a short while, before the Wraith caught up with him.  He could set a few traps here and not have to worry about bringing death down onto unwary locals. 

 Ronon

The town was made of brick and most of the dwellings were two storied, a couple even with a third.  It huddled up against a mountainside, as if the huge rock could shelter it from the coming Wraith.

He walked along, noting suitable places to set traps, and spotted a ship in the middle of the town square.  Stopping, he moved into a building and watched carefully from a window.  He had believed such ships as this destroyed.  He recognised it from the drawings of his mother’s; representations of drawings found in the Old Caves on his home world, Sateda, of Ancestral ships thought to be forever gone.  He remembered that his mother had been interested in the study of the past.  It was something he had never understood, neither had his father.

He pushed down the old familiar pain, muted only slightly over time, that these memories brought him and concentrated on the ship.  Who would own a ship like this, if it was of Ancestral design?  The Ancestors had not been heard of for many, many generations and unlike some, Sateda held no belief that they would ever return.  A dead race, the historians had decreed.

Had they been wrong?  Or had the ship been found by humans and turned to their own use?  The latter he could accept, and he watched and waited, intending to take it, as well as one who could pilot it, captive.  The ship would increase his chances of survival; never having to worry that he was about to randomly hit one of the space gates he’d heard tales of, being able to outrun the darts, maybe even weaponry with which to shoot them down.

He watched from the shadows, and it wasn’t long before he saw a man, pale and sweating, leave the ship’s interior and stagger to a wall, collapsing to his knees and vomiting for several long minutes.  The man then staggered back towards the ship, but fell to the ground with a groan, curling his arm about his stomach.  He lay there moaning for several minutes more, before heaving himself to his feet and returning to the wall to vomit again.

Ronon smiled, recognising that the man was alone and would be easy prey.  He moved out of the dwelling and glided on silent feet towards the man, who had managed to regain his feet but only remained standing by leaning heavily on the wall for support.

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Rodney was sure he was dying, as his stomach rebelled a second time.  Dying, right here, right now.  No need to worry about where his next trade would be found, where his next meal would come from or that Atlantis had made contact with yet another of his trading partners, forcing him to retreat from that planet and not return for fear of capture.  Or even worse, Jefla, where he was always assured of a warm welcome and could rest for days, sometimes weeks, before feeling the need to move on, not wanting to impinge on their hospitality or their gratitude for too long.
 
No, no need to worry about any of that, he was clearly dying.

He staggered back to his feet, clinging to the wall and trying to summon the energy to return to the jumper, when his bad day got worse as he felt the unmistakable feeling of a gun being pressed into the back of his head, as well as a strong arm being looped around his neck.

“Oh crap,” he squawked, ashamed of the fear in his voice.

“Do as I say and you live.”

“Okay, okay,” he stuttered.  “What…what do you want?”

“You will show me how to fly your ship.”

“Oh, um, that won’t…” he stopped as the arm increased the pressure on his windpipe.  “Okay, I get it…” he managed to rasp out.

“Good.”

“Um, I might need some help…I don’t think I can walk…” he swallowed against the bile he could feel wanting to come out.  “I think I’m gonna be sick…”

The man released him.

“Better get it done then.”

He knelt again, vomiting and trying not to be intimidated by the scary Neanderthal man behind him.  When he was finished, he peeked a look at his captor.  Tall, feral and mean, a veritable wild man, with a lethal looking weapon pointed at him.  He tried to stand again, but the dizziness increased and he almost fell into his vomit, would have if the wild man hadn’t grabbed and steadied him.  It wasn’t enough, though, and he felt himself falling, vaguely aware of being caught before he slipped into unconsciousness.

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Ronon grunted as the man fell, though he wasn’t surprised by the collapse; he had felt the fever rolling off the man.  He could only hope that whatever ailed him wasn’t infectious or that he would be immune to it, but either way he’d have to take the risk.  Seven years on the run had taught him that sometimes risks were necessary; sometimes they paid off, other times they didn’t.  If you were lucky, you’d survive the times they didn’t.

Shifting the lax form, he was able to swing the man over his shoulder and carry him into the ship.  There was a bench seat on each side of the ship in what he soon worked out was its rear compartment, and one of them had been turned into a bed.  He placed the man there and checked out the rest of the ship. 

The front section held four seats along with what he took to be the ship’s flying controls, which he briefly sat down in front of but soon realised were beyond his ability to understand easily.

He returned to the back section, noticing many storage compartments, which he searched, finding crystals and technology that meant little to him, as well as clothing and what looked like a bag of medicine, as well as food and various trinkets.

One of the storage containers held tava beans.  He smelt them, detecting the distinctive smell of tava bean mould.  At least now he knew what was wrong with his captive.  Had no one warned him about tava sickness caused by mouldy beans?  Obviously not, either that or the man was stupid or reckless.  He sighed.  The sickness could last several days and without help, the man would die from lack of water. 

Turning his attention back to his prisoner, he knew there was a chance the man wouldn’t be conscious enough to fly the ship out of here before the Wraith came.  If that was the case, then the ship would be lost to him, and he found it didn’t sit well with him to leave anyone, especially someone ill, to the mercy of the Wraith; ones that had followed him here in the first place.

If worst came to worst, he knew he would bring the man with him, and that meant he would need to concentrate solely on running until he could rid himself of the burden; he couldn’t fight back with an ill person to protect.

He found a bottle filled with water and resigned himself to caring for this unknown person.  Three hours was all he could risk to wait for him to wake up and possibly fly the ship, not knowing for certain how quickly the Wraith would arrive.

Finding a suitable cloth, he tried to remember what Melena had taught him about treating fevers such as this, and wished not for the first time that he had taken more notice of his dead lover’s medical advice.  This pain was not so dulled, but he pushed it to one side, as with his parents; he had no time for grief.

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When Rodney surfaced again he was disorientated.  Someone had stripped him to the waist, thankfully not removing his pants, though he wriggled his bare toes bemusedly.  Someone was also wiping him with a cool, blessedly cool cloth across his burningly hot brow, chest, arms… Was he back on Jefla?  Maybe Keelie, the herbalist and medicine woman there, was looking after him.  But that wasn’t right, was it?  He hadn’t been on Jefla…

He opened his eyes, panic returning with the memories and pushed upwards, trying to escape the wild man, but failing miserably as the caveman easily pushed him back onto the…bench…bed.  They were in the back of the jumper.

“Stay down,” the man ordered, before turning to grab one of Rodney’s canteens and then gently raising his head, before bringing it to his lips.  “Drink.”

He felt the water slop down his chin a little and reached up a hand to hold the canteen, but damn, he felt so weak and his hand flopped back down.

“Drink,” the man repeated, sounding almost gentle, which puzzled him.

He drank, slow sips giving way to larger gulps, but the man removed the canteen for a moment, only returning it to his lips after telling him to slow down.  He made himself drink more slowly, but even so he’d soon drained the canteen.

“Can you fly this ship out of here?”

“What…crap, I don’t think I could…” Rodney faltered, closing his eyes against the dizziness and swallowing down the threatening nausea.

“Wraith are coming.”

“What….what?  How could you possibly know that?”

“Tracker.  In my back.”

“What?” He thoughts felt sluggish.

“The Wraith put a tracker in my back,” Ronon repeated.  “They hunt me, I hunt them back.”

“Oh…” Rodney said, before the implications hit him.  “Oh crap, they’ll be coming here…you’re, I mean the tracker, is sending out a signal…”  He pushed himself up, trying to ignore the dizziness this caused.  “Gotta get out of here…”

“Yeah.”

“And you…” he stopped, thinking.  “I could probably jam the signal…maybe… Help me up, get me into the cockpit.” At the man’s blank look at that term, Rodney added, “The front part of the ship, with the controls…”

Thankfully the mountain man got the idea and helped pull him to his feet, supporting him as he made his way to the pilot’s seat.  He sank down in relief, pushing back the blackness at the edges of his vision and concentrating on the controls in front of him.  It didn’t take long for the jumper’s systems to identify the frequency of the Wraith transmitter, nor for Rodney to jam the signal.

“Okay, the signal is jammed so long as you stay on the jumper,” he said, trying not to think about tying the dangerous person who wanted the ship to the very thing he wanted.  “I’ll try and fly us out of here.  You got an address to dial?”

----------------

“Yeah.” Ronon thought about Sateda.  “Yeah, I got one.”  He could go home, at least for a while.  He was sure someone there would be able to remove the tracker for him, and now he wouldn’t be risking bringing the Wraith down on his home world, so long as he stayed on this…jumper?  What sort of name was that for a ship?

Of course, that was assuming that some of his people had survived the Wraith attack that had taken him.

The ship moved, slipping from side to side drunkenly, the view screen showing the movement he couldn’t feel.  He found it very disconcerting and he wondered if letting the feverishly sick man fly was such a good idea, but what choice was there?  This was his chance to be free of running and there was no denying that the Wraith were on there way here.

Despite the obvious wobbling that the ship was doing, not to mention the few treetops that the ship clipped, they reached the Ring in one piece.

“Okay, dial the address,” the man said, pointing to what Ronon had already figured out to be a dialling device. 

He punched in Sateda’s address and they left the culled world behind them, only to appear on another one...

The man flew the ship for a short distance before landing with a thud that this time he did feel, though only slightly.  His thoughts, however, were elsewhere as he looked at the ruins of a once great city; the ruins of a once great world.

 Sateda

“This is nice,” there was more than a touch of sarcasm in the man’s voice.  “Yeah, I really love these culled worlds.  So full of the joy of living.  Damn, who even knows what this place was called.”

“Sateda.  My home.”

He didn’t know why he added that last bit, but it was worth it to see the guy blanch even more.

“Sorry, that…really sucks…” the guy said, before his eyes rolled upwards and he slipped from the seat to the floor in one fluid motion, passing out.

“Yeah, it sucks,” he said, not truly understanding the man’s term but guessing at its meaning.  Forcing himself not to look at what remained of his home world, he gathered the guy up and placed him back onto the bed.  He hoped that tending him would act as a distraction from the destruction outside.

It didn’t.

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Several days passed as the man sunk into the illness.  He slept most of the time and when awake was barely aware of his surroundings, only drinking or eating when water or food was offered to him and making no moves to help himself.  Ronon did his best to take care of him, recognising that this man might still be able to help him, and feeling responsible in some way he couldn’t explain for the man’s survival. 

Occasionally, there were names murmured in his fever dreams that Ronon had difficulty working out; Shep, Carzon, Lizbeth, Teya, Ford.  Sometimes the man was agitated, repeating he was sorry over and over, but mostly his dreams were empty, silent.

Ronon slept badly too; the ruins bringing back the memories he’d tried to push aside, bury in his past and forget.  There was no hiding from the grief here, and he mourned, truly mourned, for the first time in seven years.

Part of him hated the man for giving him the chance to come here, to see what he had feared but never truly believed and for collapsing before they could leave.  He knew, though, that the only ones to blame for this were not here, but elsewhere in their hive ships.  He’d thought he’d hated them before, but now he felt a new level of hatred, a rage he feared would burn him up. 

And a pain so deep he felt would never heal.

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McKay drifted through shadows of darkness and light.  He pondered that for a moment.  Weren’t all shadows made of darkness and light?  When had he started stating the obvious?  Did it matter?  Probably not.

He drifted a while longer before slowly awakening, his eyes blinking sleepily a few times.  Distantly, he was aware that he was feeling better than he had for… some time. 

Minutes passed and then he remembered the caveman, the tracker, the ruined planet that was the caveman’s home, the illness…

He sat up, relieved when there was no dizziness or nausea accompanying the move.  Cautiously he stretched, easing cramped muscles, and looked around.  Where was his captor?  Oh, there.  Sprawled asleep in one of the cockpit chairs, closest to the door and him.

Okay, he had two choices; abandon the jumper and slip away before the behemoth woke up, which really wasn’t much of an option considering how much he depended on the jumper to survive, or dump the behemoth and leave.  He had the Gra’an stun gun hidden away and hopefully the guy hadn’t found it.  He could stun him and drag him outside… and leave him for the Wraith to find… and he couldn’t do that to anyone.

So, a third option was needed.  Make the guy a portable jamming device.  Okay, find the stunner, stun him, make a portable jammer, which wouldn’t be very hard, and then dump him and leave.

Stealthily he slipped his feet to the floor and stood, moving silently towards his secret stash, hidden behind a false panel, and grabbed the gun.  He turned to aim, only to find the sleeping giant wasn’t sleeping anymore, but was watching him from a few steps away. 

He panicked, shooting the stunner but missing as the caveman ducked his shot and tackled him, pinning and disarming him as easily as a child.

“No, no, no, no, come on, you can’t blame me for trying…” he petered out at the look of feral amusement in the wild man’s eyes.  “Don’t hurt me…” he whimpered, ashamed of the fear in his voice.

The guy manhandled him into the cockpit and pushed him down into one of the back chairs.  Using some rope from one of his storage units, and damn it, the mountain man must have been prepared in case he tried anything he realised, he was secured to the chair. 

Then his captor retook the seat he’d just vacated.

“Okay, so that was a dumb move on my part,” he acknowledged dispiritedly.

“Yeah, it was.”

He tugged on the rope in vain and sighed in defeat.

“Right.  So, what now?”

“You show me how to fly this.”

“No point, you can’t fly it.”

“Think I’m too stupid?”

Judging from the look on Conan the barbarian’s face that was not a good thing to insinuate.

“No, no, look I’m sure with the right teaching you could, in theory, learn to fly it but that doesn’t alter the fact that you can’t.  It’s not a knowledge thing, it’s a gene thing.”

“Gene?” The man was clearly puzzled by the term.

“Yes, in your blood.  Everybody has genes, it’s what makes a person.  Erm, okay, in simple terms, if you don’t have a certain gene, a…a…” he stumbled.  Crap, how do you explain DNA to a caveman?

“The building blocks,” said caveman answered.  “They make up a person’s body, determine eye, hair colour, that sort of thing.”

“Yes,” he said, truly amazed.  “Some…some people have a gene, a building block, that allows them to use certain Ancient technology, like the jumpers.  If you don’t have that gene you can’t.  Not all Ancient tech is like that, but the jumper is one of those that is.  You don’t have the gene, you can’t fly it.”

“Ancients, as in the Ancestors?”

“Yes, yes, the Ancestors,” he said impatiently.

“How do you know I don’t have this…gene?”

“Well…I haven’t met anyone other than…I mean, anyone from this galaxy that has it…” He considered it for a moment.  “Okay, sit in the pilot’s chair and put your hands on the controls, like I did.”

The man did as he was told.

“Okay, so nothing has happened.  Um, try thinking it on, sometimes that works.”

Although looking sceptical, the guy did it and again, nothing happened.

“See?  You don’t have the gene.”

“Then I need you to fly it.”

“Um.” He swallowed in fear.  “Um, that would be a yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“What?  Oh, McKay.  Dr Rodney McKay.”

“Specialist Ronon Dex.”

“Oh, that’s you?”

“Rank and name.”

The guy, Dex, turned the chair until he was facing him, studying him intently.  He squirmed under the gaze, dropping his eyes in an effort to hide his fear.

“I untie you, you don’t try anything.”

“Um, yeah…whatever you say, um, Specialist Dex,” he stuttered in surprise.

----------------

“Call me Ronon,” he said as he untied McKay, watching him in case he decided to do something stupid.

“Oh, okay.”

He indicated the pilot seat, and McKay slipped into it, trying to hide his nervousness and failing miserably. 

“So, where to?”

He didn’t know.  He thought of some of the places he had visited and tried to think of one that might be safe, at least until they could work something out.  There was little point in trying to keep McKay as a prisoner for the long term, not when he needed him to fly the ship, but he wasn’t ready to trust this stranger yet either.

“You don’t have anywhere in mind, do you?” McKay challenged.

“No,” he reluctantly admitted.

“You know, this isn’t going to work.  Sooner or later I’m going to get the better of you.” He ignored Ronon’s huff of disbelief and carried on, “And I can’t imagine you want to be tied to this ship.  Maybe…we could strike a deal?  I mean, I’m sure I could make a jamming device that you could carry.  In return, you let me take the ship and leave.  It’s my ship after all, not yours…” McKay spat out that last bit before trailing off, obviously realising that snapping at his captor might not be such a good idea.

He ignored McKay’s tone and considered what he was offering.  A jamming device he could carry with him so that he didn’t have to remain onboard the jumper sounded good, but was he ready to give up the jumper and all its advantages?  And how far could he trust McKay?

“Look, there is another possibility as well,” McKay said cautiously.  “I know some people, good people, who could remove that tracker from you.  Then you never have to worry about the jamming device breaking down or anything.”

 Rodney

“What would they want in return?” he asked suspiciously.

“Nothing.  Well, not much, probably just information on me, but it’s not like you could tell them much…”

“You running from them?”

“Maybe,” McKay hedged and Ronon took that to mean yes.

“What you do?” he pressed.

“Doesn’t matter.  They’re good people and they’d help you.  And you might like them, might even decide to stay and help them.  Lots more of these jumpers on Atlantis.”

He could tell whatever had happened was painful; there was a deep sadness in McKay’s eyes.

Life was risk.  He knew that, he’d taken many risks before now.  Some good, some bad.  So far he’d been lucky enough to survive the bad.

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Less than a day later, Ronon had a portable jamming device and McKay left him on a planet of, “kids, kids, lots and lots of kids,” which had been said with a visible shudder, but an assurance that Keras, one of the elders, would contact Atlantis for him.

He’d also heard a little about Jefla, though he didn’t recognise the planet’s name and McKay didn’t share with him the Ring address. 

McKay, he had discovered, could be very talkative while at the same time giving very little about himself away, and nothing about what had happened between him and his people, who apparently weren’t even from this galaxy.

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Chapter Two – Strangers

The decision to help the stranger that McKay had sent their way had been a difficult one to make, but they couldn’t in all conscience leave the man with a Wraith tracker in his back, even if he had a jamming device for the time being.

After the device had been removed and Ronon Dex had recovered from the surgery, Elizabeth called a meeting to try and find out more about Rodney and his whereabouts.  She knew that Sheppard had already gotten most of Ronon’s story from him as well as shared some of their own, but this would be a more formal debrief.

She made sure that John, Aiden, Teyla, Carson and Bates were present.  Dr Simpson, who had taken over Rodney’s position both as Chief Science Officer and a member of John’s team, was unable to attend as she was busy trying to come up with a solution to the rapidly approaching hive ships that were just over two weeks out from Atlantis.

“So, how exactly did you meet Rodney?” Elizabeth asked.

“I was on a planet, recently culled.  Saw his ship.  Recognised it as being Ancestor technology.  Seen paintings of ships like that.”

“Is that why you approached him?  Because of the jumper?” This was Sheppard.

“Yes.  Watched and waited.  When I saw only one man, who was ill, I knew I could get him to take me elsewhere.  The Wraith were coming, a ship might be useful against them.”

“He was ill? What was wrong with him?” Beckett couldn’t help but ask.

“Tava sickness.”

“Tava sickness?” Elizabeth repeated, looking to Teyla when Ronon didn’t elaborate.

“If the tava beans are not stored correctly, or are stored for too many years, a mould will form on them.  The mould makes whoever eats them very ill for several days.  While the illness is not fatal in itself, without help a person will die.  It is common for the sick person to not eat or drink unless aided.”

“Causes fever.  Makes them vomit.  They sleep a lot and when awake are not aware of much.  He was lucky I helped him.”

“You chose to help him?” Elizabeth pressed him.

“Told him Wraith were on their way and about the tracker.  He used the jumper to jam the signal.  Was able to fly us through the Ring.” Ronon shrugged. 

“Self preservation,” Bates stated.  “No point taking you to another planet if the Wraith would just follow.”

Ronon nodded.
 
“So when you arrived at the new planet, I take it he became very ill?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes.  I had to stay with the ship or else the tracker would transmit our location, so I helped him.  Figured if he could jam the signal using the ship, he might be able to make something portable to jam it as well.  Either way, I had to stay with the ship.”

“So you made sure he survived.” Elizabeth nodded, understanding it was a matter of survival, something Ronon was obviously skilled in to have been hunted for seven years and still be alive.

“When he recovered he tried to stun me.  Didn’t succeed.” There was a look of wry amusement in Ronon’s eyes.  “Think I frightened him.”

“Can’t imagine why,” muttered Carson.

“He wanted me gone so he made the jamming device so that I wasn’t tied to his ship.  Told me about Atlantis.  Said you would help and want little in return, if anything.  Information about him most likely.”

“He didn’t tell you what had happened or why he was alone?” Sheppard asked.

“No.  I asked.  Wondered if you were the good people he made you out to be, why he wasn’t with you.  He wouldn’t tell me.” Ronon shrugged.  “I saw hurt in his eyes and didn’t push.”

There were some exchanged glances at the last statement.  They still didn’t understand why he had betrayed them so badly, but it seemed that Rodney was regretting it.

“Don’t know what he did or why, but the man feels lost, alone.  I could see it,” Ronon added, wanting them to understand the pain he’d seen in McKay’s eyes.

“We’ve heard that he trades information, such as engineering concepts, for supplies.  Do you know any of the worlds he’s trading with at the moment or where he went after dropping you off on Keras’ world?” Bates asked pointedly.

“No.  He didn’t make that mistake, knowing I was coming here.  Smart, even if his survival skills need work.  The world we met on was dead, culled months ago.  No survivors, or those who did had long left.  He was looking for items to use or trade; scavenging.  Told me he prefers to trade, but will take what he needs when he comes across a world like that.  Also said he’s had some run-ins with less than friendly locals, but didn’t give details.”

“It sounds like he’s managing to survive on his own then,” Carson said, relief in his voice; confused though he was by the betrayal, he didn’t want to hear that Rodney had died out there, alone.

“Doing some good too,” Ronon added.  “Told me of a world he visits often, where he had saved some people from the Wraith.  They were culling two of the neighbouring villages but the one he was in was a lot smaller, about fifty or so people.  He did something with the cloak on his ship.  Extended it to cover a small area.  Managed to cram some onto the ship, others had to stand outside within the cloaked area.  He trades with them often, helping them but taking only what they can spare in return.  He’s a bad liar, so I know this was true.”

“Did he tell you the gate address or the name of this planet?”  This was Ford.

“Wouldn’t tell it you if he had.  Don’t know what he did, but I know he saved those people and he didn’t have to help me.  Could have given me the jamming device and took off, but he didn’t.  Said the device could be damaged; be better for the tracker to be removed.  Whatever he did, he saved me from running.  Man needs a safe place to hide. I would honour that.”

“He betrayed us,” Elizabeth said.  “We still don’t know why.”

Flashback

The planet was known to the locals as Shaltere and was populated by a few thousand people, called Gra’ans  They said that the name came from an old dialect no longer spoken on their world and meant ‘together’ or ‘friendship’.  Certainly, the people seemed friendly enough, at least at first, talking of trade agreements and a sharing of technology.  The Gra’ans had a technology similar to the level of the Hoffans, which so soon after that disaster, not to mention the Genii one as well, was making Sheppard a little twitchy.

“It is rare that we receive visitors on Shaltere, even rarer that we find people with something we feel is worth trading for.  Our society prides itself on its self-sufficiency and most of what is offered to us is not required.  Knowledge, however, is something we always seek.  To us, knowledge is valued highly,” the Gra’an leader, Governor Kylun, explained to the team as they walked through the early-industrial city.  “The study of the stars has long fascinated us, along with the world about us.  One of our latest and most prodigious projects to date is the use of water to produce electricity.  We have high hopes of replacing the wood burning generators that choke the air.”

“Hydroelectricity?  We could help you with that,” McKay spoke up.  “Maybe with other forms of producing electricity as well…”

“Like solar panels,” Sheppard cut Rodney off before he offered them a nuclear power plant.  Not that he would, well, not if he’d learnt anything from dealing with the Genii that was.  Nuclear bombs, nuclear power plants; not much difference in his mind, though there could be in McKay’s.

“Yes, yes, like that,” Rodney scowled at the major.

“That would be wonderful.  You have mastered this technology yourselves?” Kylun asked excitedly.

“To a large extent, yes.  Are you building a dam to store the water?  That would also mean that the water arrived with a high pressure which would allow you to extract more energy from it…”

 “You must talk to our lead engineer, I’m sure he would be better able to answer your questions.  I could arrange for you to see him now, if you would like,” Kylun offered.

“Yes, yes, that way I can see what information you’re lacking.”

Although Sheppard wasn’t keen on splitting up the team, he could see the wisdom in this.  The sooner McKay ascertained where the Gra’ans were with their technology, the sooner they could work out what they had to offer them in trade.

“Ford, go with him.  I want radio contact every hour.”

“Yes, sir.”  Ford looked less than thrilled by his orders, but tagged after McKay and one of the Governor’s attending minions as they strode away.

“So, what can you offer us in return?” Sheppard asked, as he and Teyla followed Governor Kylun to a meeting room to discuss potential trade agreements.

----------------

They had been negotiating for less than half an hour when a messenger entered the room and spoke quietly but urgently into Kylun’s ear, before leaving quickly.  Kylun gave a sign, and he and his attendants rose up, producing small hand guns from beneath their cloaks.

“Hey, guys, if we said something to offend you…” Sheppard started to say while checking out the weapons and assessing the threat they posed.

“It is time for you to leave,” Kylun stated. 

“If there has been some misunderstanding…” Teyla said in her best diplomatic voice.

“The only misunderstanding is of our own making.  We value knowledge and it is clear to us that Dr McKay has much of this.  He will remain here and share it with us.”

“Ah, now, that’s a problem,” Sheppard said, standing slowly.  “We’d rather take him back with us.”

“We outnumber you and I assure you that our weapons are highly effective.”  Kylun gestured to his guards who grabbed John and Teyla and started to march them out of the room.  They weren’t disarmed, most likely meaning that the Gra’ans were confident they didn’t need to.  Which, Sheppard thought, could be a very bad sign.  It would be better to come back with reinforcements later.

“Listen, you have no idea what you’re doing here.  We have powerful weapons of our own and we will come back for McKay.  We’ve kind of gotten used to having him around,” he said, the threat evident in his voice. 

But Kylun and the guards took little notice of his continued threats, nor Teyla’s, as they manhandled them out of the city and back to the gate.

Arriving at the gate, they saw a dazed looking Ford being held captive by three guards.

“You okay?” Sheppard asked, noticing blood down one side of the lieutenant’s face.

“Yes, sir.  Just a scratch,” Ford looked contrite.  “I’m sorry, sir, there were too many of them.  They took McKay.  I wasn’t able to stop them.”

“Yeah, not your fault,” Sheppard reassured his second in command.

“Was Dr McKay injured?” Teyla asked Ford, throwing a filthy look at Kylun.

“I’m not sure.  They were rather rough with him when they dragged him away.”

“You will leave now,” Kylun stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Sheppard nodded to Teyla, who punched in the address and then sent her IDC.

“I wish I could say it was a pleasure but I’d be lying,” John spat at the Governor.  “And you can be sure that we’ll be back.  Believe me, you’ve made a bad mistake by making enemies of us.”

His words, however, had no obvious impact and he turned away, disgusted and angry with himself for allowing this to happen.  He led his team, minus one, back home.

End flashback

“I took a team back to retrieve McKay,” Sheppard said.  “He’d been beaten and was unconscious when we found him, but recovered quickly.  Beckett released him to his room the next day.”

“He seemed like his old normal self,” Carson said with a sigh.

 Carson and John

“He programmed a virus into the city’s systems, causing a lockdown and interrupting primary controls.  The Gra’ans were able to gate in,” Elizabeth continued.  “We were lucky they chose to stun anyone who got in their way instead of killing them.”

“Some of us were able to avoid capture and eventually Simpson and Zelenka were able to override the virus and regain control of most of the city.  The Gra’ans retreated to the control room to make a stand, but in the end they fled back to Shaltere, taking their dead with them. However, McKay didn’t go with them and we were trying to locate him when he stunned a couple of guards in the jumper bay and stole one of the ships,” Sheppard explained.  “The jumper’s dialling device overrode the control room’s and we were unable to stop him leaving.  He didn’t go to Shaltere, but when we followed him to the planet he did gate to, he’d already gated out again.”

“He betrayed you and left,” Ronon stated.

“Yeah, and hell if any of us know why.”  Sheppard looked angry and puzzled.

“We’d like an opportunity to ask him,” Elizabeth said.

“To kill him?” Ronon asked bluntly.

“No,” she said, shocked at the suggestion. “We wouldn’t kill him.”

“Just lock him up for now and find out why he acted like he did,” Sheppard said. 

“Be better to leave him be.”

“We can’t do that,” Elizabeth said.  “If the Wraith get hold of him they could potentially get the location of our home planet from him.”

“Not to mention what the Genii might do with him or his knowledge,” Bates added sourly.

Ronon understood their dilemma, but he was not ready to give up the name of the planet in case it helped lead them to McKay’s safe haven.  Not yet, anyway.  Whatever had forced him to betray his people, he was doing some good now, and he couldn’t do that from a cell.

“What about you, Ronon, do have someplace to go?” Teyla asked.

“No, my home was destroyed by the Wraith,” he said it as a matter of fact, pushing the grief down, hard.

“You are welcome to stay here, or there is always the mainland.  I’m sure the Athosian people would welcome you,” Elizabeth suggested. 

“My people would be happy to welcome you,” Teyla agreed.

“Need to think about it,” he replied succinctly.

“Of course.  In the meantime, I’m sure Major Sheppard can find a room for you,” Elizabeth said, indicating the end of the meeting.

“He should be assigned a guard detail,” Bates said.

Major Sheppard grimaced, but nodded reluctantly.

“Just for a few days, until we get to know you better.”

He shrugged.  It didn’t bother him, he knew if he needed to he could take out however many soldiers they sent to guard him.

Fortunately, he didn’t need to, and over the next few days, he showed off his skills as a fighter, and at Sheppard’s suggestion, he started to teach some of the soldiers better fighting techniques.  By the end of the first week he had lost his escorts and gained a place on Major Sheppard’s team, temporarily replacing the scientist, Simpson, while she concentrated on saving the city.

He’d heard that the Wraith were on their way and he wanted a chance to fight them.  This place, these people, different though they were, offered an opportunity to win against the Wraith.  He would help to defend it, and them, at all costs; even his own life.

----------------

After dumping the scary mountain man with the kids from hell, and he really hoped that his gut feeling that this Ronon guy was a decent person despite his appearances and tendency to capture wayward astrophysicists was right, he headed to Jefla.

He was always welcome here, with arms held wide and gratitude in the eyes of the villagers.  It could be rather unnerving at times, but it was also a relief to have somewhere to retreat to when things were difficult or bad.

Since leaving Atlantis he had learnt to trade, which was not as easy as it sounded and was fraught with danger, as even friendly locals could turn on you if you weren’t careful.  He’d found the best thing he could trade was knowledge, such as sewage or irrigation systems, water pumps, better ploughs, and once how to build an arched bridge.  Simple physics and engineering combined to make life a little easier, in return for food mainly, though sometimes clothing, trinkets he could trade when knowledge wasn’t enough and occasionally an Ancient device or crystals that were of no use to the locals.

It wasn’t an easy life and some planets weren’t worth a second visit.  Of course, every so often a world he’d traded with would be culled and he’d return to find ruins.  Sometimes he could scavenge, sometimes he found survivors and that was often worse because he had little to offer them. 

An increasing number of planets he considered friendly were being contacted by Atlantis teams and making trade agreements with them.  Whenever he turned up after that had happened, he crossed the planet off his list, sometimes after having to escape.  Atlantis hadn’t put a bounty on his head, as such, but they mentioned him to their new partners as someone they wanted to talk to, and that could lead to over enthusiasm at times.

Jefla, so far, had never been visited by anyone from Atlantis, though he was afraid that might change.  He could curse himself for letting the planet’s name slip to Ronon, but consoled himself that he’d kept the gate address secret.  He hoped that no one on Atlantis had heard of Jefla or knew where it was.

Still, it had been beyond stupid to have mentioned it.  The planet was his one true haven, the one place where he knew he was always welcome.  He’d saved the village from the Wraith; only one of three villages, but one more than would have survived if he hadn’t been there.

Flashback

There were three villages on Jefla; Tren was the biggest and closest to the gate, Parlin was the second biggest and about four miles from the gate and Hinn was the smallest, more of a hamlet really, situated about seven miles from the gate.  The villages were part of a co-operative, each supporting the other and working together for the good of all.

They were open to trade and he offered to design a better irrigation system for their crops, one that would be more efficient, saving them time and effort.  In return, they would offer food and cloth.  The food was for himself, the cloth he knew he could trade on other planets for more food.

Offered accommodation and meals in Hinn for the night, he retreated to his room after the evening meal to work on his design.  A waste of his talents in many ways, but necessary for survival.  He couldn’t go back to Atlantis, not after what had happened.  He doubted they would believe his explanation and this life was marginally better than being stuck in a cell amongst people he had once called friends.

Damn it, and that was what hurt most of all.  Most of his life he had managed quite well without friends, real friends, not just passing acquaintances, and had convinced himself he was better off that way.  And he had been, but on Atlantis he’d started to change, started to let people in.  Started to care.

He thought he’d finally found a place where he fit in, where people were willing to put up with him, even to like him, maybe even to care about him and he’d responded by slowly letting down his barriers. 

He should have known better; good things didn’t happen to him, not without turning bad.

The guilt ate at him; he’d betrayed them.  He knew it hadn’t been his fault, and yet it still felt like it was at times, and the memories plagued his dreams often.

He’d lost everything; his home, his friends, his dreams.  Now, all he had was a jumper, its contents and his knowledge, which was being wasted on simple things like this project. 

He could never go home, whether that was Atlantis or Earth; he’d always be a refugee, a nomad, wandering a galaxy not even his own.  He huffed a wry laugh at the poetic thoughts; how far had The Great McKay fallen?

The plans were almost finished when he heard a loud bell clanging outside.  Not knowing what it was but feeling a dread enter his heart, he left his room and went downstairs to chaos.

“McKay, we must go, must hide, the Wraith have come through the portal,” his host, a diminutive woman who claimed to be a healer, said urgently. 

“How could you know that?” he asked sharply.  “You’re a long way from the gate, the portal,” he amended quickly, knowing that ‘gate’ meant nothing to them.

“Tren lit the signal fire, and then Parlin did the same.  We have people who watch for the fire at night and the smoke in the day, and whenever the signal fires are lit the bell is rung.  It means the Wraith have come and we must hide and pray to the Ancestors for survival.”  While she was saying this, she was tugging him out of the house and into the street.

“Okay, okay, so do you have somewhere to hide?”

“No, we run into the forest and pray to survive.”

“Well, that’s not much good,” he snapped, thinking quickly.  “Look, there’s what, fifty of you in the village?” The woman nodded.  “Okay, get everyone to gather by my jumper, my ship.  It has a cloak, a device to hide it from the Wraith.  I might be able to hide you…”

“You could do that?” the woman asked with eyes wide in amazement.

“It should be possible.”

The woman sped off to gather the fleeing villagers as he headed to the jumper parked a few metres from the edge of Hinn.

“Not room for them all in the jumper… so if I rewire the cloak…” he muttered to himself, not finishing his sentences as schematics and ideas passed rapidly through his mind.  “Then I can extend it by a few metres, covering the villagers outside…they’ll have to huddle against the hull and keep quiet if any Wraith come by…”

McKay reached the jumper and started work, frantically rewiring and switching crystals to achieve his end.  By the time the first group of villagers arrived, he had managed to push the cloak out by two metres, and was watching the darts on the HUD.

“Keelie said you can hide us.  Is this true?”

It was the village elder, er, oh right, Luther, like Superman’s arch enemy, Lex Luther.

“Yes, this ship has a cloaking device that will hide it from the Wraith.  You need to get everyone onboard that you can, especially the children, as those left outside will need to keep quiet if the Wraith approach on foot.”

“Will those outside be safe?”

“So long as they stick close to the ship’s hull and keep quiet, yes.  You’ll have to stress that to them.”

Luther nodded and organised the people as they arrived into groups; those with very young children were crammed into the jumper along with as many others who would fit and the rest huddled next to the hull.  McKay engaged the cloak and Luther reported to the villagers that when he stepped outside the cloaked area the people and the ship vanished from view.  Rodney nodded when he heard this and then closed the rear hatch.  He hoped that if any Wraith walked by that the jumper would muffle any sounds the children might make.  It should do in theory, but he had no idea how good Wraith hearing was.

Hours passed and he watched helplessly as darts screamed over the villages, knowing that the people of Tren and Parlin were being taken and there was nothing he could do to stop it.  He was acutely aware of the occasional cries of babies and young children being shushed by anxious parents behind him, the warmth of so many bodies in such a small space, the press of the people around him; his claustrophobia was threatening to panic him, but he breathed slowly, deeply and thought of wide open skies to control it, and pushed the feelings of guilt aside.  He couldn’t save everyone, but he could save this village, these people.  It wasn’t enough, but it was all he could do.

And then, after hours of fear and guilt and barely contained panic, the darts were gone and he felt able to lower the rear hatch.

“They’re gone.  Or at least, their darts are gone.  I need to fly over the area to check for life signs, see if there are any Wraith left, or any survivors, but that will leave most of you at risk if there are any still around or they come back.”

His statement was relayed to Luther outside who decided that everyone would move back into the village and that six of the men would accompany McKay on his search for life signs.

They found no Wraith but over twenty children, all under the age of three, scattered over the two destroyed villages.  Homes were found amongst those he had saved and he was finally able to rest, though his dreams were full of cullings and death.

End flashback

He’d stayed to help them for a few days, but their undying gratitude, while refreshing, was also overpowering.  Over time a compromise had been reached between them.  The villagers would provide a safe place for him to rest as well as food, and he would provide items and information to help them rebuild their lives.

This time when he returned he gave them some cloth he’d traded for and then went to find the healer, Keelie.

“Rodney, it has been many days.  I began to fear you would not return,” Keelie said as she greeted him in the Jeflan way; a low nod of the head.  He returned the greeting.

“Yes, well, I was unwell,” he muttered.  “Tava sickness, apparently.”

“You did not know of it?”

“No, unfortunately.”

“You truly are not from these worlds to know nothing of that.  You are over the worst of it I see, though you still look pale and weak.  Surely someone must have helped you.  Alone, the sickness can kill.”

“Yes, someone helped me, I helped him in return and we went our separate ways.  I just wanted to make sure that, well, that what he told me was true and that I won’t suffer any long term effects or illness or…or anything,” he said in a rush.

“Once the sickness is gone it is gone.  Unless you eat mouldy tava beans you will not become ill again or suffer further problems.  But you are still weak from it and you will sit down while I make you some healing broth.”

“No, no, that’s alright.  I’ll, ah, need to see Luther about…ah…something,” he backed away, having once partaken of one of her healing broths before and he really didn’t want to ever taste something that foul again.

 Rodney

Keelie pulled herself up to her full height, all of four foot nothing, if that, and crossed her arms, glaring up at him.

“You will sit down and you will drink the broth I make you,” she said sternly, tapping her foot and waiting, as if talking to an errant child.

And damn it if he didn’t find himself sitting meekly down.  How had this slim little old woman gained such control over him?  She looked like a gust of wind could blow her away, but in fact he knew she was far stronger than she looked and certainly more fierce than her appearance suggested.

She reminded him of Carson at times, not the he liked to dwell on that much.

Once satisfied that he was doing as he was told, she turned to her stove and started making the broth.

“So how long will you stay this time, our eternal wanderer and friend?”

“A few days,” he started to say but was interrupted by a huff of annoyance from Keelie.

“No, you will stay longer this time.  Until I am sure you have regained your strength.  A few weeks should do that.”

“Look, Keelie…”

“No, do not start with me.  You know you will not win.” She flashed him a winsome smile and batted her eyelids at him coquettishly, making him roll his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll stay, just… stop flirting with me.  You’re old enough to be my mother.”

“Ah, if only I was younger, I would not let such a good and handsome man go.”

He groaned and placed his head in hands.

“You should not wander so, Rodney.  There are many young females in this village.  I am sure one of them would take you in.”

“I’m not the marrying kind,” he said firmly.  “And you know what I’m like with kids.” He shuddered.  “Little horrors, every one of them.”

“It is not good for someone to be alone.”

“I’m not alone when I’m here, am I?  And I come here often.”

“Even so, there is a sadness and a loneliness within you.  I think perhaps that is part of why you will not settle.  You miss your people, your past.  Can you truly not go home to them?”

“I told you, no.  It’s just not possible and it’s not something I want to talk about.  I’m fine and I’d thank you not to interfere with things you don’t understand.” He stood to leave, always feeling troubled when Keelie started with this type of talk.

“Please, Rodney, forgive me.  I am an old woman who cannot help but interfere at times.  Please, stay, I will talk of other things.”

He sat, more tired than he wanted to admit.  The talk turned to more mundane things; the project to build more housing as Jefla had recently taken in a few refugees from other worlds, the need for more labourers in the fields which led to him offering to design better ploughs and possibly some form of simple harvester, and he told her a little of his travels.

The broth was every bit as disgusting as before, but he drank it down at her unrelenting glare.

And he spent three weeks in the village, helping with their various projects while regaining his strength.

----------------

Chapter Three – Allies

Towards the end of the third week, three of the villagers came down with an illness and Rodney realised that people seemed nervous if not downright scared.

“Keelie, this illness, why is everyone so upset?”

“Jeflan fever is rare these days, but last time an outbreak occurred nearly fifty people from the three villages died of it.”

“It’s fatal?” he said, alarmed.

“To the old or very young.”

“I take it you have no cure for it?”

“No, all we can do is tend to the symptoms and pray that they survive.  It is spread through skin contact, but the illness can take days to show itself.  Many will have been infected by now.” She sighed, leaning over her stove as she prepared more of her healing broth for those who were sick.  “You should leave.  I believe there is little chance that you have had contact with it yet, you are not known for hugging or touching.”  She gave a sad smile at that.  “You should go now, while you can.”

“I…” he stopped, looking closely at the diminutive woman before him, who had managed to gain his respect over the months and who everyone in the village held in high esteem.  She was pale and hunched as if in pain.  “Oh crap, you have it, don’t you?”

“Yes, I fear that I have.”

“You’re old.  I mean, not that old, but…”

“I am unlikely to survive it,” she confirmed.

“No, no, this isn’t right.  You, the people here, you welcomed me in, gave me a place to stay, this…” He closed his eyes, knowing he had a choice here.  There was nothing he could do to help them, but Atlantis could.  Carson could fix this, he was sure of it.  But it would mean the end to this place being his safe haven.  “I need to talk to Luther,” he said, leaving quickly.

Finding the elder of the village was never a hard task and one he soon accomplished.

“Luther, we need to talk.”

“McKay, it is always a pleasure.”

“Yes, yes, all that.  Look,” he said impatiently. “I know about the fever here.  Keelie is ill as well.”

“I did not know that,” Luther said, looking worried.

“Yes, well, I think…I think my people can help you,” he said it quickly, before he lost his nerve.

“You have told us that you left your people.  Should we now trust those you do not?”

“No, it’s not like that.  I…I trust them to help you.  Look, they’re…good people.  The problem that exists between us isn’t their doing, it’s mine.  Something bad happened and…they were not to blame.”

“You are a good person, what could you have done to harm them?”

“I…it doesn’t matter.” He pushed a hand through his hair.  “Look, they will trade medicine for food.  Their doctor, healer, is a good person.  I’m sure he can cure this or at least save lives that would otherwise be lost.  I’ll show you the address for Atlantis and leave you a radio, show you how to work it…”

“You are from the city of the Ancestors?” There was awe in Luther’s eyes.

“No, no, we’re from somewhere very far away, but we came to live in the city a year or so ago.  Please, just trust me on this.  They will help you.  And…well, I might return in a while to check up on you but then…then it will be best if I don’t come here often.”

“We would not let them take you, if that is your worry,” Luther reassured him.  “We owe you a great debt of gratitude.”

“I know you wouldn’t, I just don’t want to…I don’t want to see them, okay?  I don’t want to be reminded of what I’ve lost…” he trailed off, surprised and embarrassed by his outburst.

Luther looked at him sadly, but then nodded.

“We will do this.”

----------------

Atlantis had survived the Wraith siege with the help of the marines sent from Earth, the arrival of the Daedalus with a ZPM and by convincing the Wraith that the city had been destroyed.  However, there were many lives lost, including Dr Simpson, and Ford became addicted to the Wraith enzyme and left.

Zelenka was asked to take over as Acting Chief Science Officer until a replacement could be chosen and arrive from Earth. He had also, against his better judgement, been persuaded to join Sheppard’s team for the short term.

He was in the control room, running late for a team briefing, when an unscheduled wormhole activation occurred.  He was soon joined by Elizabeth, as well as Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon, who had been waiting for him to arrive.

“We’re receiving a radio signal,” the gate tech said.

“Let’s hear it,” Elizabeth ordered.

“…we ask for your help.  I will repeat.  I am Luther of Jefla of the village of Hinn.  We are suffering an outbreak of Jeflan fever, one that is known to be fatal to those who are old or very young.  Our friend said that you would be willing to help us in return for trade, and as such we can offer you food in return for medical aid.  Our friend also gave us the means to contact you and has said that you are good people.  We pray to the Ancestors that he is right and so we ask for your help.”

The message ended.

“Jefla?” Elizabeth turned to Teyla.  “Have you heard of it?”

“No, it is not a world known to my people.”

“McKay,” Ronon stated.  At their looks he elaborated.  “His safe haven.  The people he saved from the culling.  He never gave me the address, but he mentioned the planet’s name.”

“And you’re just mentioning this now?” Sheppard asked, looking irritated.

 John

“I told you I would not lead you to him,” Ronon said simply.

“True,” Sheppard said, still looking unhappy with his newest team member and adding sarcastically,  “I guess I forgot that.”

“We should help them,” Ronon continued, ignoring Sheppard’s annoyance.  “If McKay has told them to contact you then it must be bad.  He would not give this place up easily.”

“No, no, he wouldn’t.”  Elizabeth looked thoughtful.  “Open a channel,” she asked the tech.

“It’s open, ma’am.”

“This is Dr Elizabeth Weir.  We will send help to you shortly as well as a team to negotiate a fair trade deal between us.  Is Dr McKay with you?”

There was a pause, during which she had time to ask the gate tech to call Beckett , appraise him of the situation and ask him to organise a team to go off world.

“Rodney McKay is not here.  We should warn you, we will not help you to imprison him.  He saved us and has continued to help us.  If that is part of your trade agreement, we will refuse your help.”

“They’re loyal to him,” Sheppard noted quietly.

“Luther, I assure you, that will not be part of the deal.”

“That is good.  When can we expect your people?”

“Within the next hour.  Can you give us more details about the illness.  Do you know how it is contracted?”

“I am Keelie,” a woman’s voice came over the radio.  “I am the healer from this world.  It is the belief of my people that the illness is passed on by close contact with an infected person.  The pattern of contagion has been recorded many times and we do not believe it lives in the air or the water.  It is also believed that it is a benign illness amongst the native animals we farm for meat, and this is usually how an epidemic will start.  It is rare, perhaps once in one hundred years or less, which is why we still farm the animals.  The risk is there, but minimal, and the food source necessary to our survival.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.  “That is most helpful.”

“The village is located far from the gate.  I believe McKay said it was ‘seven miles’ in your measurements.  He suggested you would want to bring a jumper,” the man informed them.  “We will await you by the gate.  Keelie is a stubborn old woman who is herself ill and should not have walked this distance.  I request transport back to the village.”

“So long as we take precautions, that should be doable,” Sheppard said to Elizabeth.

“The team will pick you up then,” she confirmed. 

“Thank you,” he replied, and the wormhole shut down.

----------------

Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, Zelenka, Beckett and three medical personnel arrived on Jefla, stopping to pick up the two people who were waiting by the gate.  They wore Haz-Mat suits, though Carson said if the tests proved it was skin to skin contact they could remove the suits so long as they wore gloves and were careful.

“So, McKay, how’s he doing?” Sheppard asked nonchalantly as he flew to the village.

“He is fine,” Keelie answered.  “We do not know what happened between you.  He would not tell us, only that it was bad and not of your fault.  It is hard for us to believe ill of him, he has only ever done good here.”

“Yeah, well, he betrayed us.”

“Why would he betray his own people?” Luther asked belligerently, clearly not convinced they were telling the truth.

“We do not know,” Teyla replied.  “We would like to know why ourselves.”

“He is a good man,” Keelie said stubbornly.  “I will have no one say else of him.”

“Yeah, okay, but you’ve gotta see it from out point of view.  We trusted him and he betrayed that trust badly.  Maybe now he is doing good, trying to make up for it in his own way, and that’s great,” he added the last bit quickly, seeing rebellion in the small woman’s eyes.  “It’s great, but you have to understand that we…we want to know why and until we do...”

“We will be caught in a place of anger, confusion and concern,” Teyla finished.

“Aye, and in the meantime I need to work out how to cure your people.  I will need to take blood samples.  Will you allow me to start with yourself, lass, as you are infected too?”

“You speak most oddly,” Keelie commented.

“Aye, so I’ve been told,” Carson replied easily, organising a needle and tube for the sample.  “May I?”

“If it will help my people.”

“It will.  Roll up you sleeve, that’s it.  Okay, make a fist…”

----------------

A trade was agreed between them.  Even with supplies coming from Earth, it was always a good idea to have locally sourced food available, and the Jeflans had fruit crops that would be particularly useful.  Lots of vitamins, as Carson pointed out.

For the next two days, Carson and his medical team worked hard before they were able to find an antibiotic that cured the fever and the villagers soon started to recover.

“Thank you for your help,” Keelie said to Carson.  “You must be tired.  I believe you have slept little since arriving here.”

“Aye, I’ve not slept much at that.”

“You are very dedicated.  That is a good thing, but now you should rest.”

“Just a little longer, I just need to check these last results.”

“Then you shall rest?”

“Aye.  You are as persistent as my old mum,” he said with a grin and a shake of his head.  “And it wouldn’t surprise me to find out you can back any man down.”

“Men can be so stubborn,” she said lightly.  “And none more so than Rodney.”

“Aye, and I bet you’ve backed him down before now.”

“Of course.  He does not like my healing broth,” she raised her eyes in surprise.

“Och, I had a taste of that and I can’t say I blame him.”

“It is true that it is…an acquired taste, but it does help restore strength to the weak.”

They fell silent as he finished checking the results.  Once satisfied, he closed down the laptop.

“Done.  And now, I’ll be away to my bed.  If all goes well tomorrow, I can leave the medicine with you, along with some instructions, and return to Atlantis.”

“Sheppard has told us of your ruse to fool the Wraith.  We will keep the secret of Atlantis’ survival and ensure that Rodney is also aware of the need for quiet.  I have not known a man talk so much and yet say so little, at least about himself.”

“Aye, he is a closed book, that one.”

“You do not seem to harbour as much anger as the others here.”

“No, perhaps I don’t.  This universe is a mixed up place, and maybe I’m a fool but I can’t help but think something messed him up somehow.”  Carson shrugged his shoulders.  “I find it hard to believe he would betray us.  Not without an outside force making him do so, though for what reason I can’t fathom.  There is a part of me that worries that I’m wrong, but from what I have heard and seen here, I think not.  Whatever the reason, I’d be surprised if it wasn’t against his wishes.  But then, perhaps I’m just an optimistic fool.”

 Carson

“Or a good friend trying to work out what happened?”

“Aye, perhaps that too.”

“And I should not keep you up any longer,” she said, pointing towards the stairways to the room Carson had taken for his stay.

He grinned at the stern look on her face.

“I’m going,” he protested and did so, falling into an exhausted sleep.

----------------

The next day the results were still good and Carson felt confident to leave the medication in the hands of Keelie, with strict instructions to contact them in case of any problems.

The team returned to Atlantis with the first few crates of fruit.

----------------

Rodney returned to Jefla a week later.  Worried that there might still be Atlantis personnel around, he cloaked the jumper as soon as it left the wormhole and flew over the village and surrounding area.

Detecting no obvious signs, such as jumpers, he decided to land next to the village, behind Luther’s house, and cautiously left his ship.

“McKay, welcome,” Luther said, seeing him approach.  “Your people have left now, but I believe they will return from time to time.  They wish to continue trade, but I am unsure of the wisdom of this.”

“Luther,” he said, nodding his greeting in response to Luther’s.  “Is everyone well?”

“Yes, we lost no people thanks to the Doctor Beckett and his medical team.”

“That’s good.  That’s very good.” He smiled in relief.  “And about the trade with Atlantis, I think…I think it is a good thing for you.”

“But you will not spend so much time here, for fear of meeting them.  That is not good.”

“Yes, I know, but…Luther, you need to think about your people and their survival.  I can’t offer you what Atlantis can, and…I will still visit.  To be honest, even if you don’t trade I’ll be coming less often now, just to be on the safe side, so you may as well take advantage of it.”

“We cannot persuade you otherwise?”

“No, no, this is for the best.”

Luther nodded.

“Will you stay for a short while?”

“No, I think it’s best if I just go.  I would like to see Keelie, but…”

“The people wish to send you off with the travelling ceremony.  It would mean a lot to us to be able to do this.  I know Keelie has been looking forward to it, even though she is sad you will not visit as often.  Would you wait by your ship while I gather them?”

“Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

“Good.”

He returned to the jumper and waited anxiously, not knowing what exactly the travelling ceremony involved.

Shortly after, the villagers arrived and gathered in a semi-circle around the back of the jumper, facing him.  Keelie moved to stand in front of him.

“Hey,” he said nervously.

“Hello, Rodney.”  She held out her hands, palms down.  “Hold out your hands, with your palms up, please, and then copy my movements.”

He did as she said and she grasped him by the wrist, nodding as he returned her grip, holding her wrists.  She then lowered her head and he followed suit.

“May the Ancestors bless you on your journey.  We wish you well and will look eagerly for the return of one we consider blood kin.  Know that you are one of us, as surely as if you had been born here.  Blood kin by choice, agreed on by all.  May you travel safely and return to those who love you as their own.  Be well and be safe.”

He could feel tears pricking his eyes at her words, the feeling of being accepted almost overwhelming him, but resolutely he pushed them back.  He would not cry.

Keelie released his wrists and stepped back, raising her head to look at him, tears freely running down her cheeks, making him have to choke back on his own tears even more.  She then pulled a bracelet from her cloak’s inner pocket.

“Hold out your right arm,” she requested quietly and placed it onto his wrist.  “Wear this as a remembrance of us and as a reminder to one day return.”  She stepped back again.  “We will now give the blood kin gifts to those who must travel.”

One by one the villagers approached, each leaving a small token; a pot, a bowl, a trinket, a tool, a carving, some cloth or food.  He wanted to protest, they didn’t need to give him anything, but after the months spent trading on many planets and living amongst the people here, he had learnt to accept the importance of ceremonies, if not to him, then to the people he dealt with. 

As each person left a gift, they walked away, until there was only Keelie, Luther and Luther’s wife, Valia, left.

“Please, take the gifts onto your ship.  Then we will give you the final gifts, from the three of us to you, and say farewell for now,” Keelie said.

He moved everything onboard, carefully stowing the items away, pausing slightly when he picked up the carving someone had done of the expedition’s logo; they must have copied it from the cover of his laptop, and he pushed the little bit of pain it caused him down.

Moving down the ramp, he noticed that Valia and Luther had left, presumably to bring the final gifts, as Keelie moved forward and drew him into an awkward hug.

“You should hug more,” she admonished lightly through her tears, teasing him with her next words.  “You need the practice.”

She pulled away.

“The one called Sheppard impressed upon us the need for secrecy.  Atlantis was attacked by the Wraith, but they faked the destruction of that great city.  We must not talk of its survival, and I was asked to pass this message on to you.” 

“Okay, no talking about Atlantis, present tense.  Got it.”  He felt relief that the expedition had survived an attack he hadn’t even known about.

“Also, I could tell there was much worry about you even amidst the anger and confusion over your betrayal.  They still care for you, Rodney, but they are torn by what you did.”

“They told you?” he said, lowering his eyes, ashamed.

“Yes.  But I know whatever the reason, you are not a bad person, and I know you regret what happened.  I believe they have been impressed by your actions here, on Jefla, and with the way you have survived without them.”

Luther and Valia returned at that point.  Luther passed him a medical kit.

“The Doctor Beckett wished for you to have this.  He did not wish for you to die if this could save you.  He is a compassionate man, and even though he was hurt and puzzled by your actions, he does not wish you ill.”

He took the kit, placing it into the back of the jumper, too choked up to say anything.

“And now our final gift,” Keelie announced, placing a lak into his arms.

“I…what?” he said, looking into the eyes of the dog-like creature, the size of a terrier, but with the shape and form of a small wolf, with soft silver-white fur and deep startlingly blue eyes.

“It is not good for someone to be alone,” Keelie said, a statement he knew all too well from her.  “She is trained to hunt for food, both for herself and her master, and will protect you and your ship from any who would harm you.  Please accept her, it is, after all, most impolite to refuse a gift from blood kin.”

“Oh…” He fell silent, bewitched by the wolf-like smile.  Not a cat, but…beautiful and soft and…his.  “In that case, thank you.” 

He smiled as he was given a leash, which he attached to her collar.  He took her into the cockpit, placing her into the co-pilot’s chair with a murmured, “stay”, which she obeyed.

Moving back, he stopped to pick up a crate and placed it on the ground near to Luther.

“Please can you see this gets to Sheppard.  It’s important.  And,” he paused, “If you can give me a few minutes, I’d like to leave a note with it too.”

“Take your time, and then we will say our farewells,” Luther said.

Scribbling a note, and then tearing it up and starting again, he finally had something he felt he could pass on.  He placed it into the crate.

“Farewell,” the three Jeflans said sadly in turn, hugging him briefly.

“Farewell,” he replied to them, leaving before he embarrassed himself with tears; leaving behind his one and only safe haven. 

He examined the bracelet briefly.  It was made of two cords, each about half a centimetre thick, one blue and one yellow, braided together.  Keelie had once told him that these bracelets symbolised blood kin; yellow for the village and blue for the wearer.  He smiled sadly; it seemed he was destined to move on from places that he might call home.

He named the lak after its snow white fur.  Not Snowball or Snowy, but Arctic.

----------------

Chapter Four – Explanations

Sheppard returned to Jefla to retrieve the mysterious crate McKay had apparently left for them, taking his team and a jumper with him.

When Zelenka opened the crate, he could hardly believe his eyes.

“Krvavý peklo…it is a ZPM,” he exclaimed, spotting the note addressed to Sheppard.  “There is note for you.”

Sheppard took the note.

I went back to the culled planet, the one where I met Ronon Dex, the guy I hope you were able to help, after waiting to make sure the Wraith were gone.  There was some sort of outpost inside the mountain above the culled town.  That’s where I found some crystals (which I’ll be keeping as spares) and the ZPM (which I have no use for).  Ronon knows the address of the planet if you want to take a look for yourselves, but there’s nothing much left there.  I took everything of value.

You probably have a lot of questions mixed in with your anger at me.  I could tell you the truth, but you are unlikely to believe it, not without some kind of proof, and I don’t have any proof. 

Check the database on Atlantis, there might be something there about a sentient creature called canfindiugo, I think that’s how it’s spelt, more or less.  If there is, then there’s your answer.  If not, you’ll just have to keep on wondering.  Of course, even if there is data on them you might not believe me.  You might think I’ve heard of them somewhere and am using them as an excuse.  I wouldn’t blame you.

For what little it is worth, I am sorry for what happened.  The ZPM isn’t enough to make up for it, I know that.  Nothing is.

McKay.

“Okay, I think we need to take these back home.  I’m taking it a second ZPM will come in useful?” Sheppard asked Zelenka with a knowing grin.

“Yes, very useful.  And the note?”

“Could be interesting.  You can read it in the jumper on the way back.”

Zelenka carried the crate as they said thank you to the Jeflans for passing it on to them and headed back to the jumper.  On the return journey, he read the note aloud for Ronon and Teyla, even though he knew Teyla was quite fluent in written English by now.

“What is this creature he mentions?” Teyla asked, puzzled.

“Well, I think that’s the sixty four thousand dollar question, isn’t it?” Sheppard said.

“The what?” Ronon asked.

“The…it’s a TV show…a quiz…ah, never mind.” Sheppard knew he sucked at explaining these things.  “It means that it’s a very important question, okay?  And it’s one I think we’d all like the answer to.”

“Definitely,” Zelenka agreed.

----------------

It took several days, however, to find the answer they were looking for due to the size of the database they had to search.  In the meantime, the senior staff held many video conferences with Earth to debrief and help with the process of choosing new staff.  Elizabeth had also arranged a promotion for John to Lieutenant Colonel to ensure that he remained as the military commander of Atlantis.

The position of Chief Science Officer was still very much up in the air, and it looked like it would be for a few weeks yet.  Once the IOA had narrowed the candidates down, Elizabeth and Radek would return to Earth in person to interview them.

A meeting was called with all the senior staff, Elizabeth, John, Carson and Radek, present, as well as Teyla, Ronon and Colonel Caldwell.

Radek launched into an explanation of the information they had been able to find.

“The canfindiugo are lizard-like animals, but they have more in common with certain insects than reptiles.  They have three stage life cycle, which I find disturbing.  The adult,” Radek pulled up a picture from the database, “It lays egg into a human.  The egg hatches almost immediately and a larva attaches itself to the spine and brain, in a way similar to Goa’uld parasite.”

“Oh crap,” Carson muttered, paling at where this was heading. “Are they sentient?”

“Yes.  They have telepathic network, which is how they communicate with each other, including the larval form.  The larva controls the human until it has grown enough to leave and spin a cocoon.  This first stage lasts no more than two days, as does the cocoon stage.  The adults live for five, six years.  The database indicates that they have lived in symbiotic relationship with humans on a planet they refer to as Gra’anna.  The gate address matches that of Shaltere.  The canfindiugo control the humans completely, ensuring that a new larva is ready to take over as soon as older one leaves.  They control humans from as young as four years old.”

“So the Gra’ans are slaves to the canfindiugo?” Elizabeth said.

“Yes, but it is ingrained into them that this is part of their life and survival.  No Wraith can feed from someone with the larva inside, for a start, and the larva heals wounds and illnesses, much like Goa’uld do.”

“So there are benefits, even if to us the cost seems rather high,” Elizabeth clarified.

“Yes.  Ancients researchers advised that Gra’anna be removed from dialling computer, but Wraith laid siege and it was not done.”

“Lucky us,” Sheppard said dryly.  “So, one of those things was in McKay and controlling him?”

“That would seem most likely explanation, yes,” Radek agreed.

“So why leave?” Caldwell asked. “Was he still infested and if not, why not stay and explain what happened to him?”

 Caldwell

“Could he still be infested?” Carson asked.

“No,” Ronon spoke up.  “He was ill when I met him.  If the larva heals illnesses, he wouldn’t have been.”

“I think,” Radek said, absentmindedly pushing his glasses up and turning back to the data on his laptop, “That larva had left him.  If not, the larva would have taken him home to be re-infested and he would have gated to Shaltere, but he did not.”

“So why leave?” Elizabeth repeated Caldwell’s question.

“Ah, there is more.  If not re-infested, then human will suffer great rage followed quickly by extreme paranoia.  Ancients report that two of their, ah, subjects killed the larva that left them and tried to dispose of the remains, before becoming convinced everyone wanted them dead.  This is most likely what happened to McKay.  Good news is that larva will be dead and no threat to us.”

“Can we be sure of that?” Caldwell asked.

“If larva survived, most of us would have been infested by now.  If you wish, Carson can scan everyone here.  I believe you will find no one with larva though.”

“It might be a good idea, as a precaution,” Elizabeth suggested.

“Aye, I’ll set that up straight after the meeting,” Carson said.  “Best start with the senior staff.”

Sheppard grimaced, but didn’t argue.

“Still doesn’t explain why he didn’t come back,” Ronon said.

“The drug that causes the paranoia would last no more than a week.  But in letter it is clear he does not think we will believe him.  Perhaps he thinks it is too much like Goa’uld, too much like good excuse made up by genius scientist?” Radek suggested.

“He doesn’t know that there is information in the database to uphold his story,” Sheppard pointed out.

“Could he be using this as an excuse?” Caldwell knew he would make no friends with his question, but it had to be asked.

“We can tell,” Radek answered.  “There is genetic marker left in blood.  Details are in database.  We find McKay, we can test him for it.”

“And that’s the hard part,” Sheppard said grimly.  “Finding him.  He’s done a good job of hiding from us these last few months and he’s told the Jeflans that he won’t be visiting them anytime soon.”

“We need to spread the word out to our allies, including the Jeflans, that we wish to talk to him about the canfindiugo.  Hopefully if he hears that, he will risk contact,” Elizabeth said with a sigh.  “There’s not much else we can do.”

----------------

McKay stood in the room, wishing he hadn’t heard about this place, that he hadn’t decided to investigate it, that he had instead slipped back to Jefla like he’d been tempted to, to see how things were going.  It had been nearly four weeks since he’d last been there and he found he was having difficulty staying away.

Instead, he’d come here and managed to trap himself.  There was no one coming to rescue him, no one who knew where he was, and probably no one outside of the Jeflans who would care if they did.

No, that wasn’t fair.  Sheppard and the others, they’d rescue him if they knew, but not because they cared.  Only because they’d believe it was the right thing to do, that leaving anyone to die of thirst in a small dark chamber was wrong, that even criminals and betrayers deserved a quick death, if death at all.

He slid down to the floor, one back against the wall.  Stupid of him, to get trapped like this.  Stupid and deadly. 

The energy signal he’d picked up after exiting the gate had lured him here.  He’d heard a rumour that this planet had Ancestor technology and well, who knew what he might find that he could use, either for himself or for trade, or if it was of more use to Atlantis, as a give-away; a sop to try and salve his conscience. 

It had led him to this bunker, set into the side of a hill, and he’d been checking the single console inside it.  Not Ancient, he’d soon realised, but Wraith.  That had been enough for him to get nervous and decide it was time to leave, only for the door to slam shut and trap him inside.  Arctic, his loyal lak, had been outside and he was grateful for that.  At least one of them stood a chance of survival, he’d have hated to have killed her as well.

Of course, he’d tried to get the door open, but nothing he did worked.  It didn’t make much sense at first, and he’d turned his attention back to the console.  Less than an hour later he knew he was in bad, bad trouble, though not as bad as it could have been.

The bunker was old, who knew how old, but the Wraith had been here more recently.  A nice enticing energy signal to attract the prey, a sensor to detect the presence of the ATA gene and another to detect when that person was about to leave, shutting the door and sealing the prey inside.  A signal should then have been sent, but something had gone wrong with it; small comfort, at least the Wraith weren’t on their way to collect him.

And then the power had gone down and his only light had been the flashlight he carried on him and used as little as possible to save batteries.  Of course, it had run down after an hour or so, leaving him in complete and total darkness.  Nothing he had tried had brought power back or opened the door to his tomb. 

His canteen ran dry, followed closely by the food, and he sorely wished he’d taken to carrying more of both of them with him instead of relying on being so close to the jumper.  He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but he’d never been so thirsty in his life, and he could feel the signs of hypoglycaemia; sweating, shaking.  Though that could just be the overwhelming fear of being trapped in a small, dark room that was about to become his final resting place. 

Maybe the Wraith would have been better, except, no, that would have been worse.  Especially if they took from him the information of where Earth was and how to get there.  No, this was better than that.  He’d never wanted to betray Atlantis, he certainly didn’t want to betray Earth.

As he sunk into a semi-aware state, the memories of what had happened when the larva left him returned in vivid detail.

Flashback

He awoke to fuzziness and a feeling of something moving inside his body.  And then the memories hit him; of being implanted with the larva; of returning to Atlantis; the virus; the betrayal; the defeat…

Guilt hit him like a tidal wave, even though deep down he knew he was no more to blame than any Goa’uld host, but still his betrayal hurt badly.  He should have been able to fight it, somehow, surely?  Being unable to control his actions was one of the most terrifying things he could think of, especially knowing what the creature had made him do.

And then the larva was out, healing the path it had taken from his body, an instinctive reaction he knew, the memories of the larva a part of his own now, and rage descended; a deadly rage that consumed his entire being.

Grabbing the larva, he snapped its back, knowing its weak spot from the knowledge it had left him, and feeling it die in his hands with a twisted kind of glee.

But the anger wasn’t finished yet and he stormed out onto a nearby balcony, throwing the dead larva away, watching it fall and fall and fall and finally hit the surface of the sea.

Dead, gone, good.

The rage left him, replaced by fear.  They would hate him, they would try to kill him.

A part of him was screaming that it wasn’t so, but that part of him was quickly drowned by intense feelings of fear, distrust, paranoia.

He had to go, had to leave, before they killed him.

Running through the corridors, he met no one until he rushed into the jumper bay.  There were two of them, the ones who would kill him.

He had a Gra’an stun gun and swept its beam in an arc before him, hitting the two enemies before they could react, before they could kill him.

A jumper.  He had to take a jumper.

This one, he stopped.  It was mission ready, stocked with supplies; it even had a tac vest and laptop inside.

Yes, this one would do.

Then he was dialling a planet at random and moving the jumper down into the gate room, aware of the calls over the radio; lies, all lies.  They wanted to kill him.

Reaching the planet, he turned around and dialled again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Until he was sure they could not follow him, and then he waited.  This planet was uninhabited, safe.  He could stay here for as long as he needed.

He could stay here; safe from people; safe from death.

End flashback

And he’d stayed there, until the feelings had passed, and then he had started to run; trading as he went, somehow surviving.

All for nothing now though, he thought to himself, as he sat trapped in his tomb, waiting for death.

----------------

“You picking up any energy signals yet?” Sheppard asked Zelenka shortly after arriving on M9I-120.

“No, not as yet,” the Czech replied.

“This is the right planet, isn’t it?” he asked Teyla.

“It is.  However, as I pointed out in the mission briefing, the information had passed through many people before reaching my off world contact and he could not swear as to its truth,” Teyla said calmly.

“Yeah, I know, sorry.”

“Ah,” Zelenka suddenly exclaimed.

“You’ve got something?” Sheppard asked when the scientist didn’t elaborate.

“What?  Yes, I have…something.  Hmm, can you bring up the HUD?”

“Sure.”

“Ah, yes, see, there,” Zelenka pointed to a dot in the corner of the screen.  “It is…”

“A jumper,” Sheppard butted in as he read the display.

“Yes, yes, as I was saying,” Zelenka said with a huff of annoyance.  “It is McKay’s jumper.”

“You sure?” Ronon asked.

“All jumpers have own designation.  Each jumper can detect and recognise another, even when cloaked.  The designation for that jumper,” he pointed at the screen, “Is same designation as the one McKay took.”

“It is possible he could have heard the rumour as well,” Teyla stated.  “It had travelled far and wide.”

“And of course he’d come to investigate an Ancient building with some kind of power source,” John agreed.
 
“But there is no energy signal,” Zelenka said with a touch of irritation at the lack of signal.

“Maybe he shut it down,” Ronon suggested.

“Well, one way to find out,” Sheppard said, changing their direction.  “Let’s go and ask him what he’s up to.”

----------------

They landed close to where the jumper was showing on the HUD and checked the life sign detector.  Picking up no life signs, they exited the ship to investigate.

“So, I’m guessing our remote won’t work on McKay’s jumper,” Sheppard said.

“No, it will not.  But this one will,” Zelenka said, pulling another remote from his vest pocket.  “It is programmed to send signal on all frequencies we know the remotes use and even some they do not.  It tries each of them in turn until jumper uncloaks and rear hatch opens, like a master key.  It may take a few moments.”

“Cool.”

They waited in silence, three of them falling into a familiar pattern of establishing and checking a perimeter, attuned to any signs of danger.  Minutes passed before Zelenka gave a cry of triumph and McKay’s jumper appeared before them, the rear hatch opening to allow them access.

“McKay, you in there?” Sheppard called, as he cautiously led them inside and not surprised by the lack of response, having detected no signs of life earlier.

“Not here,” Ronon stated before commenting, “Not changed much.”

They looked around at the makeshift bed and the various added compartments welded to the hull.  There were several items strewn over the second bench-seat; tools mainly but also a woven shirt and a hairbrush full of white fur.  That raised a few eyebrows.  Did McKay own some sort of pet?

Sheppard took the pilot’s seat and tried to bring up the HUD, but the jumper was sluggish and he felt like he was having to fight it all the time.

“Z, the controls don’t want to respond to me.  Any ideas why?”

“Hmm, perhaps he has reprogrammed it…Let me see if I can access the jumper’s systems…” Zelenka sat in the chair directly behind the pilot’s seat, plugging his laptop into the interface.  “Ah, I see what you mean, Colonel.”

“It’s fighting you as well?”

“The laptop is not interfacing as well as it should.  Hmm…yes, yes, I see what he has done…very sneaky.” Zelenka pushed his glasses up as he perused the data he was managing to retrieve.  “I do not think I can undo this.  McKay has reprogrammed the jumper’s system extensively.  I believe he was trying to stop anyone else from being able to fly it.”

“Yeah, well, it does respond to me eventually, but it’s very slow.  I wouldn’t want to try and fly it like this, there’s a good chance we’d end up crashing.” Sheppard got up with a sigh.  “Okay, we tried the life sign detector on our jumper and picked up nothing.  Looks like we’ll have to use more…traditional methods.”

“I can track him,” Ronon said confidently.

 Ronon

“I will help,” Teyla added.

“In that case, after you,” Sheppard said, waiting for them to indicate a direction.

Teyla and Ronon checked the surrounding area, spotting the signs of a person moving off into the forest, and the four of them moved to follow the trail.

“The trail is not fresh,” Teyla said after a few minutes of travelling.

“Can you tell how old?” Sheppard asked.

“Two, three days.”  It was Ronon who replied and Teyla nodded her agreement with his time assessment.  “No sign of him returning.  Also, there are two tracks.”

“Two?” Zelenka said, looking around nervously.

“Yes,” Teyla said calmly, pointing to a paw print on the ground.  “The prints are quite distinctive.  I believe he has a lak.”

“One of those dog-wolf-like creatures we’ve come across on other planets?”

“Yes, John.  They are loyal hunters and pets.”

“They are not dangerous?” Zelenka, who was still looking very jumpy, asked.

“They can be protective of their owners, but normally they are harmless.”

“Right, normally,” he muttered, not at all reassured. 

“Relax, doc, we’ll keep you safe,” Sheppard said with a lazy grin.  “Ah, Ronon, you better set your gun to stun just in case we have to shoot it.  I’d rather not kill McKay’s pet if it can be avoided.”

“Already on stun.”

“Good.”

They walked for another fifteen or so minutes before leaving the forest.  A few metres in front of them was a slope with a building that appeared to be built into the hillside.  The door was closed, but in front of it, to their puzzlement, was a deep hole.

A growling noise alerted them to the presence of a lak; it had been drinking up stream of them and was now approaching them slowly, its fur up and its tail twitching angrily from side to side.

“It does not look friendly,” Zelenka said, moving behind Sheppard.

“Want me to shoot it?” Ronon asked.

“Not yet,” Sheppard replied, moving towards the lak slowly and taking a PowerBar out of his vest pocket.  “Hey there, boy,” he said gently, opening the bar and tearing off a piece of it.  “No need to be frightened.”

“Am not sure it is frightened, Colonel,” Zelenka warned.

Sheppard threw the piece of PowerBar towards the growling creature and it pounced on it, the food disappearing within a second.

“You like that?” Sheppard took another piece and crouched down, holding it in his hand.

“Ah, Colonel…” Zelenka started, afraid the lak was about to literally bite the hand that fed it.

“It’s okay, isn’t it, boy?  No one’s going to get hurt here.”

The lak cautiously approached, eyeing Sheppard up, and then took the rest of the bar from his hand gently before devouring it quickly.

“See, we’re all friends now, aren’t we?”

The lak gave a short high pitched bark and then bounded over to the closed door and started digging.  The colonel stood up.

“Think McKay’s in there?” Ronon asked.

“I think it is most likely,” Teyla answered him, as they slowly approached the doorway and the frantically digging lak.

“Z, can you get the door open?” Sheppard looked to the nervous scientist.

“Yes, if you could…keep the nice doggie from biting me.”

The lak stopped digging when Zelenka approached the door, but soon turned its attention back to the hole.  Taking a steadying breath, Radek forced himself to concentrate on the door, trusting the team to protect him from potentially vicious creatures.

“If he has been trapped in there for two or three days,” Teyla said worriedly, “Then he may have been without food or water…”

“May be dead,” Ronon added bleakly.

“Let’s not think like that, big guy,” Sheppard admonished.  “Knowing McKay he’ll have had some supplies on him, so he should still be alive,” he said confidently, before adding quietly to himself, “Might not be well, but alive.”
 
Ronon moved closer to Zelenka.

“You need to hurry.”

“I am aware of that,” Radek snapped at him, before adding peevishly.  “Do not loom so.”

“Ronon, give him some space,” Sheppard ordered, and Ronon reluctantly moved back a few steps.

Many tense minutes passed before Zelenka was able to trickle enough power into the door controls from his laptop, enabling him to override the door mechanism and open it.  As soon as the door whooshed open, the lak ran inside, its excited yips turning to soft whiffling noises.

The room smelt bad and was in darkness, the only light spilling in through the doorway.  It was enough for them to make out a form on the floor about half way towards the back of the building.  The lak was nosing the body gently, the whiffling turning to worried sounding whimpers.

“Oh shit, McKay,” Sheppard moved forward and knelt by McKay’s side, flanked by Ronon.  Teyla had also moved inside, but Zelenka hung back, not wanting to see a potentially dead body up close.

McKay stirred slightly, opening his eyes a slit.

“McKay,” Sheppard called again, as Ronon gently lifted the limp form to rest against his chest.

“Water.” Ronon held out his hand for a canteen, which John quickly passed over and watched as Ronon gently trickled some water into McKay’s mouth.  McKay drank slowly for a few moments, before turning his head away slightly.

“Trap,” he managed to croak out, his voice hoarse.  “Get out.”

“What?” McKay’s voice had been too quiet for Sheppard to work out what he’d said.

“He said it’s a trap,” Ronon rumbled, already lifting McKay over his shoulder.

Sheppard stood, looking around the room quickly before starting to retreat.

“Come on, boy,” he said gently to the lak, not that he needed to really as it was following Ronon quite closely, anxiously watching McKay.

“Girl.”  This time he was able to make out McKay’s comment and rolled his eyes.

“Girl, then,” he said as they left the building.

They moved a little way into the forest before Ronon carefully put Rodney down, moving behind him again and supporting him.  McKay had kept his eyes firmly closed during all of this and moaned slightly now.

“Too light.”

Teyla knelt down in front of him, offering him water from her canteen.

“He has been in the dark for some time,” she pointed out.  Sheppard grabbed his sunglasses from his vest and passed them to Teyla, who placed them onto Rodney’s face. 

Slowly, McKay opened his eyes and although he was squinting, he seemed able to cope better.  It was then a matter of getting a couple of canteens worth of water down him along with a MRE; chicken soup, as they didn’t dare anything more solid yet.

Checking for signs of dehydration, Sheppard was relieved to note that, although McKay’s hands were on the cold side, his pulse was not badly elevated and he was breathing reasonably well.  He was very weak, but that could be down to the lack of food as much as the lack of water, although when John lightly pinched Rodney’s skin it was slow to return to its position, a sure sign of dehydration.  Deciding that McKay wasn’t about to die on them right then, he made the decision to take him back to the jumper and then home rather than call Beckett out here.

Ronon helped him up, and with Sheppard offering support, McKay was able to stagger along on his own feet, the lak following closely.

“So, what’s your pet called?” John asked.

“Arctic.”

”Arctic?”

“White, like snow,” McKay explained.

“And you couldn’t go with Snowball?”

“Too…cute.”  There was a pause as McKay gathered his thoughts.  “I don’t suppose…I could persuade…you to let me go…”

“Sorry, McKay, no can do.  But we know about the canfindiugo, they were in the database.  And seeing as they leave some kind of marker in your blood, Beckett will be able to tell if you’ve been infested with one at some point.”

“You can come home,” Radek told him. 

“Atlantis.” The whisper was almost reverent.

“Yeah, Atlantis,” Sheppard confirmed.
 
Silence fell again as they put their concentration into getting back to the jumpers, with one more brief stop to get some more water into McKay along the way.

----------------

Chapter Five – Homes

By the time they reached the jumpers, McKay was no longer squinting as badly, and wasn’t hanging onto Sheppard and Ronon nearly as much for support.

Using the remote to uncloak and open their jumper, Sheppard started manoeuvring McKay towards it, when he put on the brakes.

“McKay,” the colonel said in annoyance.

“Not leaving my ship,” McKay said stubbornly.

“You can come back for it later, when you’re stronger.”

“No.”

“McKay, thanks to whatever you did to the its systems it’s too dangerous for me to fly, so it will have to stay here for now.”

“I’ll fly it.”

“Sure, right, and you’re in such perfect health,” Sheppard said sarcastically.

“No worse than when he flew us to safety,” Ronon said.

“This is not a good idea, and I won’t allow it.”

“Not leaving my ship,” Rodney reiterated.

“Damn it, McKay…”

“I’ll stay with him,” Ronon offered.  “Make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Sheppard told him.

“I can fly it,” Rodney said, not backing down.

Ronon grabbed McKay firmly and pulled him towards Rodney’s jumper.

“Man doesn’t want to leave his home behind.”

“Ronon…” Sheppard sighed in defeat.  “Okay, fine, but just don’t crash it or Beckett will have my ass in a sling.”  Still shaking his head, he followed Teyla and Zelenka onto their own jumper.

He sat in the pilot chair and watched as McKay took off and slowly headed towards the gate.  After watching the jumper in front of him dip and sway several times, he wondered if it would be better or worse for his nerves to take the lead, but in the end he didn’t.

 Jumper

As soon as the gate was in sight, Teyla dialled Atlantis.

“Atlantis, this is Sheppard.  We’re coming back early and we’ve brought a guest.”

“A guest?”  Elizabeth’s concerned voice came over the radio.

“Yeah, came across another jumper here along with a certain rogue physicist.  He’s agreed to come home.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said, sounding relieved.

“Yeah.  You better get a medical team to the jumper bay though, McKay’s flying against my wishes.  Seems he got trapped in a building for a few days and is pretty dehydrated.”

“I’ll get a team there right away,” she said before signing off.

Sheppard watched as McKay’s jumper entered the gate and then followed him a few minutes later.

----------------

Carson had been angry, to say the least, that Rodney had flown back and Elizabeth had not been best pleased by the presence of the lak, but after a while everything calmed down.

McKay had been whisked off to the infirmary and divested of his woven and leather clothing, though the bracelet remained after he’d become agitated when a nurse tried to remove it, and had been attached to various IVs to combat dehydration and the early stages of hypoglycaemia.  The lak, meanwhile, had been scanned and checked out by the xeno-biologists and declared clean of any diseases.

“Ach, what’s that creature doing in here?” Carson demanded of Ronon, who had smuggled Arctic into the infirmary.  She was now firmly ensconced on Rodney’s bed, snuggled up at his side.  “This isn’t the place for her.  This is a bloody infirmary not a petting zoo…”

“She was missing McKay,” Ronon answered succinctly, slouching into a chair by the physicist’s bedside.

“She’s clean,” Rodney said.  “The biologists say so and they’ve even given her a bath.  How they managed to keep her still long enough I don’t want to know.  Probably had to muzzle her as well, but at least she’s clean now.  Even smells okay.”  He scratched her ears and she wriggled onto his lap with a soft sigh of pleasure.  “Anyway, haven’t you heard of animal therapy.  Stroking a pet is good for a person’s heart.”

Carson rolled his eyes.  McKay had hardly been back more than a few hours and already he was causing trouble; still weak, attached to IVs and wearing darkened glasses, because of the light, at that. 

Before he could harangue the two reprobates before him, and he wasn’t including the lak in that pairing, there was a further invasion of the infirmary, this time by John, Teyla, Radek and Elizabeth.

“Hey, doc, how’s the patient?” Sheppard asked, stopping when he saw Arctic tucked up by McKay’s side.  “Um, what’s she doing here?”

“Apparently the big lug there decided she was missing Rodney here,” Carson said, glowering at the Satedan.

“I’m sure it would be okay for Rodney’s pet to stay for a little while, Carson,” Elizabeth said diplomatically.

“Ach,” he said, flinging his arms up in disgust.  “Fine, she can stay for a wee while.”

Ronon didn’t bother to smoother his grin, gaining himself another glare from the physician.

“Carson, are the results back from the blood test?” Elizabeth interrupted before things could get out of hand.

“Aye, I was just about to contact you when these two galoots distracted me.  The marker is there, like we knew it would be.”

There was some relief at this news; at least McKay hadn’t betrayed them of his own accord but had been used against his will.  Still bad, but better than it had seemed like for such a long time.

“You up to some questions?” Sheppard asked.

“Oh no you don’t.  He’s in no fit state to be answering questions, and I’m thinking I should be banning the lot of you…” Carson started.

“Carson,” Rodney interrupted.  “I’d actually like to get this out of the way.”

“You need your rest…”

“I can rest fine later, I want to do this.” Rodney crossed his arms stubbornly.  “Now.”

“Maybe Carson is right,” Elizabeth said, throwing an unhappy look at John.

“No, really, I’m okay,” Rodney argued back.

Carson sighed, shaking his head.

“Alright.  But if I think it’s getting too much for you, I’ll put a stop to it.”

“Fine.  So, what do you want to know first?” Rodney asked.

“You told John that the building was a trap, do you know who was behind it?” Elizabeth asked gently.

“Wraith.” Rodney ran a shaky hand through his hair, almost dislodging the glasses.  “I heard rumours of an Ancient building, possibly a power source, so I investigated it.  Picked up the signal straight away and found the building not long after.  I ordered Arctic to stay outside, I figured she’d give me warning if anyone approached, and checked out the inside.  Took me a matter of moments to realise it wasn’t Ancient technology but Wraith and I decided to make a fast retreat, and that’s when the door shut,” he paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing, “I couldn’t open it, there didn’t appear to be any access to the door controls from the inside, so I checked the console out.  Seemed there was a sensor to detect the presence of people with the ATA gene, though for some unknown reason the door wasn’t triggered to shut until they tried to leave.  It was then supposed to send a signal, but fortunately something went wrong and the signal wasn’t sent.” He shuddered.  “Hate to think what would have happened otherwise.”

“We heard the same rumours about an Ancient building,” Sheppard said.  “Well, one of Teyla’s contacts did.  He told us he couldn’t be sure if it was true or not, but we decided to check it out anyway.”

“But I got there first, lucky me,” Rodney said sourly.  “The Wraith tech hadn’t been there long, so I think it’s safe to assume they were after someone who knows how to get to Earth.”

“Yeah, which is pretty disturbing,” the colonel said, looking concerned.  “There could be further traps out there for us.”

“Possibly,” Rodney agreed.  “Of course, the power gave out completely after a short while leaving me in the dark.” He gave a strained laugh.  “As if being trapped in a small room with limited water and food wasn’t bad enough.  And my flashlight didn’t last very long either.”

Teyla placed a hand on Rodney’s leg.

“You survived,” she said gently.

“Yes, yes, because you came.  I was so sure…I thought it would become my tomb…” He was shaking quite badly now as the memory of being hopelessly trapped came back.

“Aye, but it didn’t.  And I think that’s enough for now,” Carson said, putting an end to the visit.

“No, it’s okay…” Rodney protested.

“No, it’s not okay, Rodney,” Carson replied.

“We’ll talk again later, when you’re feeling better,” Elizabeth said, patting his leg before turning to leave.

At a glare from Beckett, Sheppard also left, with Teyla by his side.  Radek was following them when Rodney called him back, still sounding shaky despite his attempt to sound more normal.

“Zelenka, do me a favour and keep your sticky paws off my jumper.  And you can keep everyone else away from it as well.  I made a lot of modifications and some of them are quite capable of biting the curious.”

“We have not touched your ship,” Radek replied.  “As someone,” he nodded in Ronon’s direction, “Pointed out, it has been your home for months.  It would be like…searching through your quarters without permission.  So, we will keep our ‘sticky paws’ off it until you are well.”

“Good. And thanks,” Rodney said, directing it at both Radek and Ronon.

“It is good to have you back,” Radek said, and then left.

“Right, you can go too,” Carson said to Ronon.  “And you can take that animal with you as well.”

Ronon raised an eyebrow.

“Think I’ll stay a while.”

“Oh no you don’t.”

“Ronon, Arctic will probably need feeding soon, and exercising.  Could you…” Rodney asked tentatively.

“Fine,” Ronon stood, carefully picking up the lak and placing it onto the floor after attaching a leash to her collar.  “We’ll be back later.”

“You’ll not be bringing her back in her,” Carson said sternly. “This is an infirmary…”

“…not a petting zoo,” Ronon finished, turning to Rodney with a sly grin on his face.  “We’ll see you later.” With that, he led Arctic out of the infirmary, leaving a spluttering physician behind.

----------------

A day later and Rodney had been released to his new quarters, though he spent most of it supervising the removal of personal items from his jumper to his room.  Sheppard and his team were happy to help, despite their complaints otherwise.  Carson had, of course, discovered what was going on and had read Rodney the riot act, confining the ‘daft bampot’ to a wheelchair so that he could supervise from a sitting down position. 

Elizabeth had watched this with an amusement that she kept to herself and had been intrigued by the number of objects of what she would call an ethnic design leaving the back of Rodney’s jumper.  She was sure there was a story behind them, as with the bracelet he wore.

She waited another day before calling a meeting of her senior staff, as well as Ronon, Teyla and, of course, Rodney himself.  She knew it had been a bad idea to talk to Rodney so soon after his return and that she should have heeded Carson’s wishes for them the let Rodney rest, but Rodney had wanted to talk to them and she’d let herself be persuaded.  Carson said it had set back Rodney’s recovery slightly, which she felt guilty about, but now he’d given the go ahead for another meeting.

“Can you tell us what happened to you on Shaltere?” Elizabeth asked.

“You know I was taken away by the guards.  They took me to a cell and beat me for a short while and then left me,” Rodney started to tell them  “It was cold...”

Flashback

He was shivering, which made his bruised ribs hurt even more, and he was sure he’d never get warm again.  Stripped down to his waist, his shoes and socks also taken, he could only be glad that they hadn’t also taken his pants.  Not that they offered him much warmth, being wet as they were.

The cell was dark and damp, with only a small window high above him, far too high to reach, and far too small to crawl through even if he could reach and open it somehow.  A thin grey beam of light lit one corner of the cell, but he huddled in another corner, away from the light. 

He’d suffered a beating and had then been dowsed in freezing cold water and thrown into this dank dungeon.  There was food; stale bread, and water; also stale and with a layer of dust over it. 

Cold and wet and hurting, he knew he wouldn’t hold out for long.

His team would come; at least he hoped they would.  They had to, right?  Leave no one behind, wasn’t that Sheppard’s motto?  Besides, they needed him, needed his genius.  Surely they would come for him.

Time lost meaning; hours passed, or was it longer, was it days?  No, hours judging by the stubble on his face.  Not days, not yet.

He hurt, and he was so cold, so very, very cold.

When they came for him again, he tried to pull away from the two guards that towered over him, but of course it was no use.  Stronger as well as taller, they dragged him by the arms, pulling him along and into a room and pushing him onto the floor.

They held him securely as a third guard approached, and he could just make out something in his hands.  What was that?  Some kind of…creature; the size of a large housecat, with six legs, a tail and a lizard’s face, it was scaly and hissed at him.  The guard placed the creature on the floor and it scuttled over to him, climbing onto his back.

He yelled, squirming to get away from it, but the guards were too strong for him.

There was a sharp pain in his lower back and something slid inside for a few moments before being removed, though it felt like something had been left inside of him.

The lizard-creature scuttled back to its guard and was carried out of the room.  He was pulled to his feet and dragged back to his cell, falling to the floor as a numbness came over his body.

He didn’t know what was happening, he couldn’t move but he could feel something moving inside of him.  It felt like it was growing, felt like it was burrowing into him.  He would have screamed at the agony he felt, but his vocal cords were paralysed as well.

Gradually the pain faded and he lay on the cell floor, unable to move, but aware of something bad happening to him.

Over an hour passed and the horrible feeling of movement finally stilled, before there was another sharp pain and then… something was inside his mind.

Oh crap, was this what it felt like to be a Goa’uld host?  The question flashed through his mind, before darkness started to descend, and he knew the answer was no; they were aware of what they did while infested, he at least would have no knowledge, no memory of what the creature made him do, at least not until it left him, leaving the memory behind.

And then it would be too late, he thought sourly, as the darkness took him away.

End flashback

“The larva didn’t heal the bruising.  They wanted it to look convincing, that they’d been trying to get information from me,” Rodney suddenly stopped, not able to go on, as he leaned on the conference table, put his head in his hands and started shaking badly.  Teyla moved to stand next to him, a hand on his shoulder as she leaned down to whisper soft reassurances.  John and Ronon also drew close, but left it to Teyla to calm Rodney down.

“Maybe we should postpone any further questions for another day,” Elizabeth suggested, getting ready to leave Rodney in their capable hands.

“No, I’m fine,” Rodney said, lifting his head, the shaking having subsided a little.  He flashed a grateful smile at Teyla, who moved to sit next to him, while John and Ronon retook their original seats. 

“Are you sure?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay.”  She looked around the table before turning her attention back to Rodney.  “We know that you would have been feeling extreme paranoia for a while after the larva left you, but why didn’t you try to contact us and tell us what had happened?”

 Elizabeth

“When it left me, I…I killed it and then threw the body off a balcony.  It was instinctive, but it also meant I had no proof.  Later, when I was back to normal, I thought about returning but…I was afraid you might not believe me.  I didn’t know if there would be anything in the database, or if there was how much information there might be.  I couldn’t prove anything, and even if you’d wanted to believe me I don’t think you could have risked it.” He sighed.  “I chose to run instead.  It was easier than facing your anger, your hatred.  I chose the coward’s way.”

“Oh right,” John said sarcastically.  “A coward doesn’t protect a village from the Wraith, he runs away.  He certainly doesn’t choose to wander the galaxy alone with no back up.”

“I didn’t have a choice, if I wanted to survive I had to travel to trade,” Rodney protested, ignoring the first part of John’s speech.

“Maybe, but once you found yourself a cushy number like Jefla, a coward would have
stayed put, not kept on exploring new planets.”

Rodney scowled.

“You don’t get it,” he said.  “I couldn’t let them close.  I didn’t want to end up letting them down as well.”  He looked stunned by his outburst as well as acutely embarrassed.

“It wasn’t your fault, Rodney,” Elizabeth said.

“I know that,” he responded sharply, before taking a deep breath and saying more calmly, “I do know that.”

“Good,” she said, and then smiled gently.  “And we’re glad to have you back, in fact, I’ve spoken to everyone here and we’d like to reinstate you in your old position as Chief Science Officer, and I know for a fact that Radek would be more than happy for you to replace him on John’s team.”

“I…don’t know.  I’m not sure the Air Force or the IOA will…”

“Let me deal with them,” Elizabeth interrupted him.  “If you want the position, it’s yours.  I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have.”

“And we want you back on the team,” John added.  “No offence to Zelenka.”

“None taken,” Radek said.  “I never wanted to go off world in first place.  I like temperature controlled science lab!”

“I need some time to think about it,” Rodney said.

“That’s fine,” Elizabeth said.  “So, can you tell us a little about some of the worlds you’ve visited?  Any we should visit ourselves, any we should avoid?”

“Oh well, there’s several you should miss out on…” And he went on to tell them a little about his travels, and as he talked the tension slowly left him.

----------------

Two days later, Elizabeth was busy reading reports in her office when Rodney entered with Arctic bounding along beside him on a leash and a mysterious package tucked under his arm.

“Rodney,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Do you mind?” he said, gesturing to the lak straining on her leash as she tried to investigate the corners of Elizabeth’s office.

“Not at all,” she replied as he entered and took a seat, pulling Arctic towards him and commanding her to sit, which she did.  He rewarded her with a perfunctory pat to the head.  Arctic leaned against his leg and sat watching him with adoring eyes.  Elizabeth had to stifle a laugh, seeing Rodney trying to appear his normal gruff self when it was clear to all that he was every bit as smitten with the lak as the lak was with him.

“I’ve been considering retaking my old position, both as Chief Science Officer and being part of Sheppard’s team,” he stated.  “I decided that it’s what I want, though it might take a while for me to…fully adjust to being back here.”

“That’s okay, take the time you need and if there’s anything I can do to help you just let me know.  It really is good to have you back,” she said, with another smile.  “I’ve already spoken to the IOA and…they have come around to my way of thinking on this.”

“In other words, you browbeat them into it,” he replied with a grin.

“Perhaps.” She pursed her lips, refusing to give anything away.  “I’m sure Radek will be happy to bring you up to date on things.”

“He’s already started doing so.  Anyone would think he hates the job…and going off world,” he said with a roll of his eyes.  “I’d like to visit Jefla sometime soon, if that would be okay, and I’ll also get started on undoing the reprogramming I did on my jumper so that anyone can use it.”

“We’ll make that your first assignment.  From what I heard about them, they would make good allies.”

“Yes, they will,” he said, absently figuring the bracelet on his right wrist.  At Elizabeth’s look, he glanced at it and reddened slightly.  “Oh, I guess you’re wondering why I’m wearing this?  It was a gift from the villagers; the yellow represents them and the blue represents the wearer, in this case me.  They give them to people they consider blood kin who might have to go away for some time.”

“Blood kin?”

“Yes, apparently they decided that I was ‘blood kin by choice, agreed on by all’,” he quoted, looking uncomfortable with the topic.  “Um, when someone like that leaves and could be gone for several months, as they and I thought I might be this time, they give gifts as well, like Arctic.  Apparently it’s impolite to refuse such gifts, so…” He shrugged.

“So, you have a pet lak, a bracelet and various artefacts by the looks of the items you moved to your quarters.”

“Yes, just a…few things.”  He shifted awkwardly again.  “And one of them is this and, well, I thought it would fit in with the other things in your office,” he said standing and putting the package onto her desk.

Opening it, she took out a carved plaque depicting the expedition’s logo.

“This is…thank you.”

He shrugged again, trying to look nonchalant.

“Well…I just…it seemed appropriate for you to have it.  Anyway, I should…go now…need to start work on the jumper…”

“Okay,” she said, letting him go, Arctic bounding around at his feet, smiling to herself at his discomfort and shaking her head; typical man, she thought fondly. 

 Carving
Photo by n7cdrsheppard, posted on shaddyr's LiveJournal as part of her Save SGA Rally report.  Used here with permission.

----------------

A week later, Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, McKay and Arctic headed through the gate to Jefla, along with Radek and two engineers.

Landing close to the village edge, Keelie and Luther soon appeared to greet them, along with a handful of other villagers.

“Rodney, you are with your people?” Keelie asked, surprise in her tone.

“Yes, we’ve…settled our differences.”

“That is indeed good news,” Luther said, with a broad smile. 

“Yeah, we think so too,” Sheppard drawled.  “We’re hoping that you might reconsider the alliance we offered.”

“Of course we will,” Luther replied.  “There is nothing standing between us now but the terms of agreement.”

As they were speaking, the engineers were bringing out some equipment under Radek’s careful supervision.

“What is all this?” Keelie asked.

“A gift,” Rodney said, looking very pleased with himself.  “The water pumps you use for the irrigation systems and for the village wells are cumbersome and have to be manually pumped.  With these,” he pointed to the solar panels and electric pumps being brought out, “The sun will power them and all you have to do is turn the flow on or off with a tap.”

“That sounds…amazing.  But we could not possibly accept such a gift…” Luther started to protest.

“Elizabeth, Dr Weir, has agreed that the solar panels and water pumps are mine, as trade for the item I asked you to pass onto them for me.”

“The item was worth this much?” Luther asked.

“Yes, yes, it was worth at least all of this.”

“But it is too great a gift,” Keelie declared.

“Ah, but it is ‘most impolite to refuse a gift from blood kin’ I’ve been told.” He bounced lightly on his feet with a smug smile on his face.

“He is a fast learner, this one,” she said dryly to Luther.

“So he is,” Luther replied lightly.  “We will, of course, be most honoured to accept the gift of our blood kin and brother.”

“Tonight we shall celebrate your early return to us as well as your good fortune to be reunited with your people.  Also, the newly agreed alliance between Atlantis and ourselves,” Keelie stated, turning to the gathered villagers.  “We must prepare a feast worthy of our brother’s return.”

“Oh, really, you don’t need to go to all that trouble…” It was Rodney’s turn to protest, his cheeks reddening slightly.

“It has been much time since we have had cause to celebrate,” Luther informed them solemnly.

“Hey, I love a good party,” Sheppard threw in.

“Yes, well, of course, you would,” Rodney said with a roll of his eyes.

“Do not be a…ah, spoilsport, that is term, yes?” Radek added, having approached to find out where to start placing the water pumps and not able to resist joining in.

“Will there be food?” Ronon asked, with an amused smile.

“Of course they’ll be food…” Rodney snapped before looking thoughtful.  “Hey, will there be some of those lognums?”

“No celebration would be complete without them,” Keelie replied with a hint of amusement.

“Oh, well, in that case, I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun,” he said with a dreamy look on his face.

The villagers moved off, some to make preparations for the coming feast, some to help position the new water pumps.  As McKay headed off to oversee the installation of his gift, Sheppard walked beside him.

“So, these lognums, what are they?”

“Small balls of fried bread, served with a choice of fruit preserves, none of which contain citrus, I might add.”

“Fried bread?  Doesn’t sound that fantastic.”

“Hmm, well it’s true they don’t come smothered in sugar, icing or chocolate, seeing as the Jeflans don’t have that sort of thing here, and they are ball-shaped rather than ring-shaped…”

“Doughnuts!” Sheppard finally made the connection, as Rodney grinned smugly.

“Always suspected there must be a brain under that mop of hair somewhere,” he said.  “Though it is well camouflaged…”

“Hey, leave my hair out of things…”

The End


Author's Notes:

 1. The Czech phrase ‘krvavý peklo’ means ‘bloody hell’, at least according to the translation site I used.  If it is incorrect, I apologise and ask that you please tell me the correct phrase to use.

2. The hydroelectricity questions from McKay come from This Page.

3. The creatures are called canfindiugo and this is a blending of the two Latin words: Confundo (to pour together, mix, blend /confound, confuse, trouble) and iugo (to bind together, connect, couple), and altered slightly.  The basis of this comes from Daniel Jackson (SG1) stating at some point that Ancient and Latin are very similar, one most likely evolving from the other.

4. The lognum (the Jeflan doughnuts) is a corrupted form of the Latin word: laganum (a cake) and is meant to represent an Ancient word used by the villagers.



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