A Pledge

Summary: He is separated from the team, but in doing so, he unites with people from his past. He wasn't always the way he was around the team. So detached and hard. The Wraith changed him.

Disclaimer: I own Garse, Davil, and Arim. I wish I owned Ronon, but sadly I don't. Everyone else belongs to the creators of the show.

The Team sat in the middle of the village they were at to get supplies. They had been there for two days, which was one day longer than this trip was supposed to take. They would have loved to leave if they weren't being held captive by a group of marauders who thought that the Team was snooping around in their business.

Ronon groaned as he tried to get out of his bonds once again. "You know, if the first fifty times you tried to get out didn't work, maybe one last try will do just the trick," Sheppard said.

"When we are out of here, I'll pay you back for that," Ronon said. He grunted when he started to lose the feeling in his fingers. "And I don't see you trying to get us out of here, Colonel," Ronon said condescendingly.

"Ronon, stop struggling," Teyla said before Sheppard could say anything else to get Ronon fired up.

"Why is that every time you guys go to a new planet that isn't as civilized as other planets, you need to get captured?" Ronon asked.

"We don't always or need to get captured. We just do," Sheppard replied. "And you did the capturing the first time we met you."

"Maybe you choose the wrong planets to visit," Ronon said.

"Maybe you're just bad luck," McKay chimed in.

"Now is not the time or the place to be fighting about whose fault this is," Teyla said.

She silenced them as three rather large man walked toward them. The man in front had brown hair that fell to his broad shoulders. The two men behind him were both bald, but with stronger builds. They reminded Sheppard of the men that used to compete in the strongman competitions he used to watch on TV. He sighed when he realized that it would be pointless to try and take them on.

The man with the hair walked over to Teyla and tipped up her chin with his finger. "I could get a good price on a woman like you," he said.

Teyla looked up at him and never broke her gaze. Ronon's eyes widened when he realized who the people standing in front of them were. They were traders, but their trade was people. "Don't touch her," Ronon growled.

One of the other men brought out his gun and pointed it at Ronon's face. "Did he say you could speak?"

The man who was kneeling in front of Teyla stood up. "Put the gun down, Davil," he said. "I apologize for his rudeness. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Arim."

The third man, who had been silent the entire time, walked over to Ronon and pulled his head back by his hair. He took out a knife and traced the mark on Ronon's neck without cutting it. "Look, Arim. A Satedan," he said. "I thought your kind was dead. Wiped out by the Wraith."

"Obviously not," Ronon replied.

The man who was pulling Ronon's hair let go and punched him in the face. Ronon's head snapped to the side. Teyla loudly gasped. "Ron—"

"I'm all right," he said interrupting her before she could tell their captors his name.

"Garse, enough!" Arim yelled.

Arim grabbed Garse by his shirt and threw him to the side. Davil put away his gun and ran to hold Garse back. "You need to control your temper," Davil said, holding Garse back.

Garse pointed to Ronon and struggled to get out of Davil's grasp. "He needs to learn to bite his tongue," Garse yelled.

"I would never listen to people who trade others' lives for their own satisfaction," Ronon said.

Arim knelt down and looked the Satedan in the eyes. "So you know what we plan?" he asked him. Ronon made no move to answer him. He turned to his men. "Get him up and take him to the tent. The Satedan and I need to talk." Davil let go of Garse. "And don't hurt him. Yet," he said as he walked passed them.

The two men walked toward Ronon and each grabbed an arm to hold him down. Davil cut the bonds around his legs. Davil and Garse pulled Ronon to his feet. Ronon started to walk passed the men, but Garse roughly grabbed his arm and forced Ronon to look at him. They stood staring at each other, neither one willing to back down. "Try to run and I will kill all of your companions. Starting with your lady friend," Garse said.

Ronon reluctantly nodded in agreement. He looked back and shot the rest of the Team a look to tell them that he was going to be fine. Garse and Davil led Ronon to the tent. They walked into it and saw two chairs on opposite sides of a table. Arim was already sitting in one of the chairs. "Untie his bonds, gentleman." The two men forcefully cut off Ronon's bonds. He rubbed his wrists after he felt blood quickly rush back into them. "Leave us."

"But Arim," Garse started.

"He won't do anything," he replied. Garse and Davil consented and left the tent. "Have a seat."

"I'd rather not."

"You aren't planning on running or trying to escape are you? Because as soon as you step out of here, you will have thirty men with their guns trained at your head. And then we will have to kill your companions," he said with a smile on his face.

"I don't respond well to threats."

"It isn't a threat. It is a guarantee. So please, have a seat."

Ronon took a seat across from Arim. "What do you want?" Ronon said. A short statement that was right to the point. He wasn't about to start small talk with a man he didn't really know, but what he did know, he didn't like.

"I don't know whether to kill you for knowing our secret, or to offer you a place on my team."

"Do I get a say?"

"Only if you choose the right one. I've always wanted to meet a Satedan."

"Well, now you have. And I'm already a part of a team."

Arim ignored the last part of what he said. "Is it true that you are one of the more intense fighters in the galaxy?"

"I've never met anyone who has said that."

Arim stood up from his seat. "Join my team, Satedan. I would find a perfect place for you. A perfect life for you to live."

"And if I joined you, what would happen to the others?" Ronon asked. Not that he was contemplating joining them; it was just that he needed to know exactly what kind of people he was dealing with.

"We'd be forced to kill them, or separate them to where they cannot find each other. They know what we are, and they will try to stop us. They would find us and destroy our lifestyle. We cannot let them do that."

"I cannot leave them to that. What about if—" Ronon said. He couldn't believe that he was negotiating with this man. But he needed to make sure that the Team would be safe. That she would be safe.

"There is no room for negotiations, Satedan. Garse! Davil!" The two men entered the tent. "Take him to the circle. Prepare him for a fight. Tell Liron and Axel. Bring his companions to the show. And don't give him a weapon. I need to see for myself if what I hear about his race is true."

Garse forcefully pulled Ronon out of the chair, knocking it over. He punched Ronon in the stomach to make sure he wouldn't put up much of a fight. Ronon hunched over. Garse took the opportunity and tried to punch him in the face. Ronon caught his hand a few inches from his nose.

He stood up straight and pushed Garse. At the same time, he pulled Garse's gun out of the holster and aimed it at the owner's head. "What if I give you my decision right now?" Ronon said staring right at Arim.

"You don't want to do that, Satedan. In the blink of an eye, I can send half of my men to your companions and kill them. How many of them will be alive by the time you get out of here?" Ronon dropped his arm and threw the gun off to the side. "Good. Bind him."

Davil took a rope out of his pockets and tied Ronon's hands behind him. Arim walked out of the tent and the three men followed.

Okay… So this story has nothing to do with No More Waiting. At least, I didn't write it that way. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. Who knows? I hope you all liked it. Please review, and no flames. Lil-Rock