Disclaimer: I don't own SGA or SG1 or anything like that, I just wish I did...only Shay is mine.
DON'T FORGET ABOUT THE STARGATE FAN AWARDS!! I'LL BE VOTING…WILL YOU??
This is going to be a long hull and it will come very slowly. But don't give up on me either. I got a King Arthur fic I'm trying to finish, but I've been working on this one for weeks now...so you will have to bare with me.
This story will follow a number of story lines, and will include some of the episodes. A good number of them actually, but not all of them, only ones that will really move along the story for my character. There will be spoilers for all the seasons, so watch everything if you don't want it spoiled, even some for SG1.
And before you start reading...I thought I should let you know that there will be POV's here and there, and flashbacks that will be in italics. The rest of the story is in past tense. Just in case anyone was going to get confused. I will not warn you when it changes, but I'm sure you will figure it out.
Oh, and I made up an ancient Satedan language that Ronon and Shay will be conversing with between each other. That will be in italics within quotes and every once in a while I will put a few words together that seem like another language.
Oh, and since Ronon's gun does not have an official name, I'm calling it a pulse pistol and the larger ones we see in flashbacks and what he uses in "Sateda" are pulse rifles. Yes, I know that's a Farscape term...but blaster doesn't really fit and neither does gun. Besides, Ronon and his "gun" kinda remind me of Crichton and Winona or Aeryn and her pulse rifles.
Ok, so here we go...
Nothing is more difficult,
and therefore more precious,
than to be able to decide.
Napoleon Bonaparte
Chapter 1
Choice
They all look the same. Every world I come to. All of them are a blur of trees and small villages. Few I have crossed had some type of elevated technology. I'm sure, if I ever live through this, I will never be able to distinguish one from the other. Except maybe for this one...
You are scorched by day, and frozen by night. We had to huddle together by the fire the first night to keep the shivers to a minimum. The rain didn't help much. Rain at night and sweat during the day keeps your body constantly slick and uncomfortable.
We decided to stay awake the second night. To keep moving and the cold would not stiffen our bones. When you're on the haunt, nothing but your prey is on your mind. Not the cold or the fatigue in your legs. Not the pull at old wounds or pounding headache from lack of sleep. You're alert. You're aware. Completely and utterly prepared. Ready for anything.
You must be to survive a life like this one. If you can call this a life...
But we are still breathing. Still fighting. And at this moment, that is what matters most. Not the past, not the future, not the next planet, or the next Wraith you kill. It's the moment. That's what you live by. The only thing you can live by. One moment at a time. Because when you're a Runner, that's all you have. One moment, because the next could be your last.
Will and determination is all that fills your mind so you can reach the next moment and the next. You have no time for anything else.
And maybe, just maybe...it would hurt a little less.
There were devices here that she had never seen before. Not to mention the small ship they arrived on through the Ring. It was the first sign of high technology besides that of their homeworld. But the weapons...they were quite primitive compared to the Satedan pulse pistols strapped to their thighs. They apparently had yet to master hand held energy weapons. It was a pity. They needed all the weapons they could get. But these guns would do hardly any damage on a Wraith who just fed. They were of no use.
She pulled out an object wrapped in a type of gold material. She ripped it open and smelled what was within. Food. She took a large bit and handed it to her companion. It had to be the best tasting sustenance they have had in a long time.
A groan captured her attention. She looked back at their prisoners. A braid feel in her face as the man squinted at her. She flipped her hair behind her shoulders. "Ford?" he asked. Ronon glanced back at him. They both looked back at their possessions as the woman began waking.
"Colonel?" her voice still a bit heavy from confusion.
"You okay?"
"My head is pounding," she drawled. "Where are we?" she stared at the solid rock wall in front of her.
"I was just about to ask them."
John took in the height of the strangers as they stood with the P-90s in their hands. Clothes tattered and old damaged armor. He couldn't tell the color of their skin from the sunburns and dirt smudges. He couldn't help but think that their captors looked as if they just stepped out of a Ridley Scott film. Both stopped in front of them, and it was only then that he realized the shorter was actually a woman. Beneath the cold stare and rough exterior, there was no mistaking the feminine grace. "You might want to be careful where you point those things. You got the safety off."
The woman smirked as they both professionally charged the weapons, pointing them at John and Teyla. "Okay, be that way," he said. "But my guess is if you wanted us dead, we would be. So why don't you tell us who you are and what you want." They didn't move. Didn't even flinch or blink. The stare from both was intimidating, and John had to hold back the desire to shift away. "Alright, I'll go first. I'm Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."
"I am Teyla Emmagen," the Athosian added, twisting her head around to see them.
The woman shifted on her feet, and took a look at her companion. "Colonel?" his voice rumbled.
"It's my rank. Military designation," John explained. He noticed their hesitation.
"Specialist Ronon Dex," the man said almost with a snarl. He turned around and walked back to their kits.
"Specialist Shay Vallon," the woman lowered the gun but didn't move away.
John creased his brow. "That's the both of you?"
"Name and rank," Shay now moved away, tossing the P-90 to the ground.
"Military?" At his question they both froze.
They stared at each other for a long moment. It's as if the question he asked made them see ghosts. If they were military, they were far from that now. Shay could not even remember the feel of a Satedan pulse rifle in her hands. Armor on her shoulders. It was such a far off memory, that it was a different life. "We used to be," she whispered.
Their eyes didn't leave one another. The same visions were running in their minds. A crumbling city. The haunting screams of the dying that neither would ever forget. The dead faces of the men they called brothers. The buzzing of darts overhead. "It was a long time ago," Ronon added.
The two continued to go through their things. "And now?"
Ronon looked John square in the eye. "Now we're deciding whether to kill you and your friends."
Both prisoners stopped breathing a moment. In the hands of two deadly trained warriors. This was not good. Though, they always tended to get themselves into these situations, and by some miracle, always got themselves out of it.
The two runners continued to curiously weave their way through the items in the off-world vests. The sun moved lower in the sky as its rays revealed the definition of their features. John immediately thought of gladiators. He watched the woman curiously. Her dark red hair was half way down her back. The armor she wore was worn and tattered, forcing him to wonder how long they had lived like this. Whatever this was.
However rough and torn they seemed, he knew they were still strong. They carried themselves with pride. And for whatever reason they lived this way, nothing would stop them from surviving it.
The problem was…what would they do with him and Teyla? He watched as they silently conversed with each other, only using expressions to communicate. As if they were twins together since birth who had created their own language. Whoever they were, they had been doing this for a long time.
John looked at them with a calm determination as they both smeared something onto the exposed skin of their arms. "Look, the men guarding the Stargate are highly trained men armed with deadly weapons."
They shared a curious look. "Stargate?" Ronon asked.
John rolled his eyes. Maybe not as smart as he thought. "Stargate—big circle thing." He motioned the shape of a circle with his head.
"We've always known it as the Ring of the Ancestors. No matter. We have to get through."
"We didn't come here looking for you. And the whole killing thing is really unnecessary."
"If your friends try and stop us…" Shay warned, subconsciously gripped the pulse pistol at her hip.
"They won't," John said hastily. "If we tell them not to. We can all go to the Gate together, and you folks can be on your merry way."
"We've been through the galaxy enough to know you shouldn't trust anyone. Why are you any different?" the woman questioned.
Great, John thought. "That's a good question. Teyla, why should they trust us?"
"We mean you no harm," the Athosian soothed. "We are only searching for a friend."
Shay and Ronon glance at each other. They mumble a few words in a language John had never heard. He stole a look at Teyla, who shook her head. "Fantastic," John drawled.
"We saw him," Shay said. John snapped his head to her. "Your friend."
"Where? When?"
"He killed the Wraith that was hunting us," Ronon sneered.
"Hunting you?"
"Shavi ota," Shay said, and left the cave.
"Where is she going?" John asked.
Ronon ignored the question. "Why are you looking for him?"
"His name is Aiden Ford and he's sick."
Ronon looked thoughtful for a moment. "I thought he'd been in the sun too long. It can make you sick here."
John flexed against the restraints. "That may be true, but that's not all that's wrong with him."
"Then why is he running from you?"
"Well, he's not…exactly."
"Then what's he doing, exactly?" Ronon took a few steps closer.
"It's complicated."
"You can do better than that," he demanded.
Shay trekked silently, keeping to the shadows, which unfortunately, were hard to come by here during the daylight. They had to leave this place soon. More Wraith would be here by nightfall…if not sooner. If these strangers had not showed up, they would already be gone. So far, none of their traps had been set off. Their friend must be nowhere close. It could mean even bigger problems for them if he does. If he cares about them at all. Fo some reason, she had a feeling he wasn't exactly normal.
Shay was careful to disguise her tracks as she made her way back to the cave. She took a deep breath. They wouldn't survive for much longer. They were strong. Even stronger together. But you could only survive for so long. She pushed back the unshed tears for a home she left behind. A home they had failed to protect the first time. And they would rather die than ever take the Wraith back to Sateda.
She shook her head. Shay buried her emotions again as she entered the cave.
"…got an overdose of the drug. It kinda messed him up," John explained. Shay ignored him as his eyes found her when she appeared. She assumed Ronon would catch her up on the story later…if it really mattered.
She set a hand on her companion's shoulder. He glanced up at her and she simply shook her head. Words were rare between them, especially since they had become runners. It was just too dangerous because you simply can't know if there's someone watching. They could read each other expressions so well, words simply weren't required. The common tongue was almost foreign to her lips because when they did speak, it was usually in the ancient language of Sateda. The first language spoken on their homeworld after that of the Ancestors.
Ronon nodded in reply, turning his attention back to their hostages.
"We think we can help him, if we can find him."
From the pile of their possessions, a crackle of static interrupts the conversation. Ronon and Shay turn to the sound in alarm. Her hands hover over her pistol in pure instinct. "What's that?"
"Radios."
"Communication devices."
"Our people are trying to contact us. The cave is probably causing interference."
Ronon grabs John's vest, and both Satedans head outside. He immediately grabs the device and starts experimenting with its buttons. Shay looks on uninterested.
"What's wrong?" he asked in the old tongue.
She wasn't surprised. They knew each other better than anyone. "We should just let them go."
Ronon paused and turned towards her. "Why is that?" he spat.
"They are no one to us. We could probably pass through the Ring without them even noticing."
"You saw their technology as well as I did. They're not that stupid," he went back to the radio.
Shay was silent for a moment. "They seem trustworthy." He only stared at her, hard. "I know. I remember what happened last time." She dropped it. Ronon never liked that conversation. According to him, no one was worthy of their trust. Not after a very long time, that is. She couldn't blame him. Usually, she would feel the same way. It was her mistake after all, the last time they trusted strangers. But there was something about these people. They were genuine. She could feel it.
"Keep your hands where we can see 'em!"
They turned to see both of their hostages, free and armed once more with their weapons. Ronon returned the radio to its place, keeping his hands in front of him. He stole a glance at Shay. She just shrugged and did the same with her hands.
"We told you," Ronon said calmly, "we have to get through the Ring."
"Why?" John held his rifle steady at Shay.
"Because the Wraith are coming," she said sternly.
"How do you know?"
"We know. They are hunting us." Shay felt the urge to tap her foot impatiently. They didn't have time for this. They should have just fought their way through the Ring.
John smirked snidely. "Join the club."
Teyla hesitated and lowered her gun a fraction. "You are runners." Ronon nodded. "I've heard stories but…"
"What's a runner?" John shifted uncomfortably.
"We were captured during a culling on our planet. We were taken to their ships. The Wraith started to feed on us." He paused. "Something made them stop."
Shay continued. "They operated on us -- put some sort of tracking devices in our backs and then released us. We've been running ever since."
"They hunt us. We hunt them back."
"Your people might want to be careful," Shay warned. "We have plenty of traps set in these woods."
Their hands start to move toward the pistols at their hips. John stiffened. "Don't do it. Like I said, we're not here to get in your way."
Shay knew what he was planning. They had backed up each other for so many years they knew each other's plans like second nature. Only once did they disagree. Ronon nodded. "That's good." He threw the vest towards John, who fires his gun, but is knocked off balance.
Shay rolls away from Teyla's line of fire, pulling her pistol in the same move. When her feet were planted, she fires for Teyla's gun arm. The weapon falls from her hands. Ronon had John at gun point. "You're lucky we had them set to stun."
Shay keeps her pistol on Teyla as she wearily stands. "Stings, doesn't it?" Shay looks down at her smugly. The Athosian lips set firmly, biting back a remark.
John holds his hands up to Ronon. "Look," he turns towards the group. "You wanna go through the Gate, fine. Let me radio my guys, and they'll let you through."
Shay smirked. A typical peacemaker. "You can tell them in person. We're taking you with us," Ronon informed them.
"You know," John put in quickly. "There's a chance we can help you."
Doubt instantly filled Shay's senses. "How?"
"We have a pretty good doctor. Maybe he can take those tracking devices out."
"You think we haven't tried?" Ronon asked incredulous.
John shrugged and lowered his gaze. "Suit yourself."
Shay regarded him for a moment. Then Teyla. Even still, she couldn't help but feel the truth from these people. She and Ronon were not easily deceived. However, now Ronon seemed to be hesitating. She looked at her companion. Ronon backed away from John a few steps and glanced at her.
They regarded each other for a moment. "Verita rein." Trust them. She saw the ascent in his eyes. They lowered their weapons.
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I'm a nice guy. Look, I told you. You hate the Wraith, we hate the Wraith -- it's something we all have in common. We just want our friend back."
Shay smiled inwardly at this man. He was some kind of persistent. Could only imagine how stubborn when it involved a woman. She could get used to having a guy like that around her. She looked at Ronon and nodded.
"You get these tracking devices out of us and we'll get your friend back," Ronon consented.
John let out a breath in relief. "Okay, good. It's a deal." He hopped down to Ronon's level. "Let's all go back to the Gate and we'll get that thing out of you too."
"No," Shay intervened. "You go back and bring the doctor. We'll keep her with us."
"Look, I think-"
"This or no deal," Shay commanded.
John looked at Teyla then nodded. "Fine. I'll be back. Keep the radio on." And he disappeared into the trees.
Ronon and Teyla sat at the mouth of the cave. Shay sighed and went off back into the trees. She hoped they had made the right choice.
They weren't that difficult to follow. The doctor spoke to loud. She didn't even have to be careful with her steps. Any noise she made would drown out in the doctor's voice. When only the doctor headed for the cave, she stayed close on the Colonel. She'd never seen a rifle like that. Not on any of the worlds she has seen. And that's more than just a few. He settled at the top of an overlooking hill, surrounded by trees and undergrowth.
She revealed herself from behind and tree and aimed her pistol. "Hello, Colonel." He froze. "Back away from the rifle. Don't try anything. This time, I don't have it set to stun."
He pushed his chest up from the ground, scooting away from his weapon. Shay carefully stepped her way closer to him. She sat down a few feet away, her pistol still up. "Who are you guys?" he asked honestly.
Shay stared at him. There was something about this man you just couldn't lie to. She pursed her lips. "We're from Sateda."
"Haven't been there yet."
"I'm sure there's plenty of places you haven't been yet, Colonel. For some, you're much better off," she smiled lightly.
He snorted in laughter. "You're probably right." He looked at the pistol in her hand. "You don't have to keep it on me, you know." Shay considered for a moment before lowering the point. "So, how long have you been this…running?"
"Seven years."
He nodded dumbly. "An expert, I guess then?"
She shrugged. "If you can call it that. It's not as if I chose this."
"Sorry," he mumbled. Shay wondered why, but didn't voice the question.
She looked down to the cave. The doctor was setting up his equipment. The sun was low on the horizon. They were running out of time. She had estimated that more Wraith would arrive by nightfall. It was here. That doctor would have to speed it up if they planned on living through this.
"Why do they do it?" John asked, voice at a low somber.
Holstering her pistol, Shay released a long breath. "I don't know. Training, learn our tactics, measure our will. No runner ever lives long enough to find the truth."
The Colonel nodded. Hesitating with his next question, he shifted uncomfortably. "Do you have a family?"
For the first time, she looked him in the eye. There really was nothing fair about this life. You live to suffer endlessly, then die. Seems useless. Why live when there is nothing to live for? When no one person alone can do anything great enough to cause any kind of change. We live, just to live. Are there any gifts or blessings in that?
"Do you have any family, Colonel?"
John kept his eyes on his hands. "I wasn't much of a son."
Shay smiled sadly. "I wasn't much of a daughter." They looked at each other, seeming children trying to find comfort in the other. "They died," she finally said. "A long time ago."
"I'm sorry."
Shay gave him an amused expression. "You say that a lot, and I wonder why. You have nothing to be sorry for. Not when it comes to me."
"It just…doesn't seem like you deserve this," John said quietly.
"How can you know what I do and don't deserve?" Her voice got sharper with every word. "You don't know me. You don't know Ronon. How do you know you can trust us?"
John was speechless for a moment. This is not where he saw this conversation going. "You seem like you're in a tight spot, and it's obvious that you two are talented. We're just in the right situation to help each other. You trust us, we'll trust you."
All of a sudden, a deepening pit filled her stomach. "Where are you from?"
He hesitated. "Shay," he breathed, knowing his answer would be a problem. Her name on his lips made a shiver travel up her spine. She hadn't felt that for almost ten years. She ignored it, knowing she wasn't going to like his answer. "Why don't we get this tracking devices out of you, find Ford and I'll take you on a tour once we get back."
Shay only eyed him strangely. John slumped his shoulders. "If I told you where we're from it could be very dangerous to us. The Wraith think our city is dead. If they find out it isn't…it could ruin the chances of the entire galaxy."
"I thought you decided to trust us?"
"It's not my call. For all we know you could be Wraith worshippers. It's happened before." Shay's hand gripped the pistol at her hip as her eyes narrowed at him. He raised his hands harmlessly. "Hey, I meant no offense. We just gotta get to know each other better."
Shay stared at him a moment, then turned her attention to the scene below. They didn't speak again.
Her body it the ground. The tremor of pain through her back forced her eyes open. She turned onto her stomach, trying to calm her breathing. Every stretch of her skin sent pain through her spine. She gritted her teeth and groaned through the worst of it. She looked up at Ronon who was hastily tying his armor back on. They weren't at the cave anymore. Somehow, he had carried her and their weapons without being followed.
Shay shook her head. A long time ago, she gave up trying to figure out how he did these things. "Did he get it?" she croaked.
"Yes."
A satisfactory sigh passed through her lips. A breathy laugh followed. It was over. Finally. After this, they could go home. Actually go home. That promise surged adrenaline through her veins. The excitement of the hunt began to linger. The silence of the night was broken by gunfire in the distance. Ronon looked in that direction as he holstered his gun.
"Catch up," he said simply, then bolted into the darkness.
A grin settled on her lips. "No problem." She reached for her armor.
Shay ignored the jolting pain in her back as she sprinted through the trees. She couldn't hear a fight anywhere near, so she continued in the direction of the gunfire, trying to follow Ronon's tracks as best she could in the dark. Shay burst through the undergrowth onto a trail. She knelt closer to the dirt. Two sets of tracks. One of them Ronon's. He was in pursuit.
A rustle in the trees behind her caught her attention. She pointed her pistol in that direction as a figure scrambled through the trees. Two gun barrels met each other. Shay looked past the rifle into the face of her opponent. Colonel Sheppard. But she didn't lower her weapon.
Her mind raced. Could they really trust them? John lowered his weapon. "Relax. I'm not here for you." She didn't move a muscle. More gunfire sounded off behind her. Ronon, her mind screamed. Trusting a stranger for the first time in years, Shay holstered her weapon and took off in the direction of the gunshots. John's footsteps were right behind her.
John took off after his rogue friend. Shay leaned against the tree beside her and frowned. She missed the fight…as usual. Ronon was always on the forefront. "What took you so long?" he grunted.
Speaking of. Shay rolled her eyes. "You left without me," she teased. She sighed. The fatigue was finally getting to her. She'd been awake for three days now. And the knowledge that she wasn't being tracked anymore was liberating. They didn't have to run anymore. Real food. A real night's sleep. A real bed. It in fact sounded mouthwatering. She smiled and sat on the forest floor.
"Think you could help me down?" Rodney asked. Shay frowned as her daydreaming was interrupted. She pulled her gun. Rodney's eyes widened. "No!" Shay aimed at the rope, taking one shot. The weaving of the rope snapped. The scientist screamed on his way down to the ground, but suddenly stopped inches from the grass. He looked up. Ronon was smiling again, holding on to one of his ankles. The Satedan lowered him slowly. Rodney laid face up on the ground. "Thanks for—um...who are you?" he breathed.
She couldn't help it. She laughed. Pain burned through her back, but she didn't care anymore.
They were free.