There really hadn't been much choice in his signing up to fight; he loved his world and he would do what needed to be done. The wraith were coming and Sateda wasn't going to sit around and accept the sensless culling any longer.
Glancing around the crowded room he couldn't help but notice that it was filled to the brim with others just like him. Young fresh faced boys their eyes shining with the light of glory promised by men skilled in motivating unconditional obedience.
He wondered how many of the others had lost everyone they had to the wraith. He watched as the rooms tables were laden with platters of fresh fruit, vegitables, and meat. Pitchers filled with deep red wines and amber malts were passed from hand to hand and he couldn't help but wonder at the plentiful spread.
One of the pitchers finally makes its way to him and he drinks thirstily of the oddly sweet and bitter drink. A man in a fine uniform steps to the middle of the room and looks about with contempt and distain, "I am Kell and I will be your Task Master while at the academy. Eat, drink and make merry tonight because on the morrow you will train until you sweat blood from your pores."
Ronon felt his stomach roil at the words. It wasn't that he was afraids of hard work it was that the man's utter disregard for their well being was palpable in the room. "If you are lucky you will see sixteen and if you are not then you will have disgraced yourself and your people!"
His chest tightened he was thirteen and sixteen seemed such a long way off. He could only work hard not to disgrace the people of Sateda and pray that he made it past his sixteenth year and saw all Satedan's free of the horrible wraith oppression.
Standing tall among his peers he decided then and there not to falter, but always stand between the wraith and their prey.