Title: The Hunting of the Snark - Part 1

Author: Beth Green

Author's Notes: This started out as a ficlet response to Tipper's poem challenge. My muses had other ideas. The hundreds of words became thousands. About the only thing remaining from Lewis Carroll's poem is the title. Thanks to Sarah for her quick response to my request for a beta. All remaining mistakes belong to me.

xxxxx

After a series of stressful, hazard-ridden missions, Sheppard's team was extremely grateful for the peaceful surroundings of PX6-486. The settlement referred to by the locals as Tovaria was an eclectic mix of the simple and the complex. Most of the residents made their living off of the land. Their wants and needs were simple. Their homes were made of rough-hewn logs, and each dwelling had a small plot of land set aside for the purpose of farming to provide for the basic needs of those who lived within the home. Their knowledge of agriculture was such that they could have farmed on a much larger, planet-wide basis had they chosen to do so. What made them interesting and trade-worthy was the fact that they chose to supplement their rather primitive existence with various hi-tech devices salvaged from abandoned vessels.

"It's like some Bizarro World version of a used car lot!" Rodney's exclamation was a combination of scorn and a grudging respect.

The skeletal remains of hundreds of transportation conveyances were scattered at seemingly random sites upon the planet. The Tovarians' historians stated that their ancestors had gated to the planet generations ago. Their records indicated that the wreckage had been present when their forebears had first arrived.

The leader of the Tovarians, Minister Kelene, was a woman whose baggy clothing and close-cropped hair led Sheppard to initially believe that she was in fact a 'he.' Trade relations got off to a rough start when the Minister took offense at John's misuse of the pronoun 'he' in reference to herself. Fortunately, Teyla was able to smooth things over. Minister Kelene was further appeased when Sheppard shared the fact that the leader of his people was a woman. The final act of forgiveness was granted when Ronon spoke with the woman in such a friendly tone of voice that she actually began to flirt with the Satedan. Amazingly, Ronon flirted back.

When John had a moment to speak privately with Ronon, he commented, "I appreciate you taking one for the team like that." When Ronon responded with a blank look and a shrug, Sheppard clarified, "You know, being all nice and flattering to the Minister and everything."

Ronon returned John's comment with a look straight out of the Rodney McKay school of human relations, the sideways head toss and eye roll that said without words, 'Boy, are you stupid!' Rather than denigrate John for complimenting what was in fact a personal preference, Ronon simply replied, "I like her."

John had been about to complain that Ronon had obviously been spending too much time with McKay, but Ronon's admission surprised Sheppard to the point that he momentarily found himself at a loss for words.

He finally replied, "Well, okay, that's. . ." His next words could have used a bit more sincerity behind them, but John was at a loss in trying to figure out the attraction. "Great. I mean, really. . ."

He was saved from further embarrassment by McKay's interruption. "While you two have been busy occupying space, I've secured permission to explore some of the less decrepit wrecks on the prairie parkade."

John's spine straightened and his demeanor brightened not unlike a condemned man granted a sudden reprieve. "I'll go with you!"

Rodney's reply of, "That's not neces-" was cut off when John grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the town square. Rodney gave a half-wave over his shoulder and offered a friendly, "Bye!"

Ronon laughed and hollered at John's retreating back, "I'll check in with you in an hour."

Rodney offered no protest at John's actions. After all, the team leader was heading where the scientist wanted to go. Rodney took advantage of the opportunity to tease his friend while they walked. "What a refreshing change of pace. Usually I'm the one who's forced to take the blame for an unfortunate word choice that happens to offend someone on the all-too-frequent occasions when I can't help but speak the truth. This time, it's the team's alleged liaison expert in matters pertaining to the opposite sex who managed to offend a woman with his verbal blunder."

John defended himself. "I never claimed to be an expert on women."

Rodney tossed his head to the side and rolled his eyes as he replied, "Maybe not so much by your words, but certainly by your actions."

John was tempted to inflict physical violence on Rodney like he'd wanted to with Ronon after the Satedan had mimicked that very familiar mannerism earlier in the day. However, even with the implied insult, John did not want to exercise his only other option: a trade of escort duty with Ronon in favor of more interaction with the Tovarians. He chose not to respond to Rodney's gibe.

Encouraged by John's silence, Rodney continued, "If you're not careful, Ronon will walk off with your harem."

John had noticed that the other Tovarian women he met all seemed to emulate Minister Kelene. He stated, "If you're referring to a harem made up of Tovarian women, Ronon can have 'em."

Rodney gave an exaggerated shudder. "I know what you mean. In my not so humble opinion, those were some of the most physically unattractive women. . ." Rather than complete the sentence, he stated, "They reminded me of the Russian women that I worked with back in Siberia. Not to say that Russian women are unattractive, it's just that I really wish that they would shave -" he paused for effect, then added, "Their mustaches."

John shook his head. "That might be true of the Russian women you've met, but I remember this Russian gymnast, Svetlana. . ."

Rodney interrupted John's reminiscence, "Well -" but his response was never uttered. Like a child distracted by a bright shiny object, Rodney abruptly shifted gears both mentally and physically and stepped off of the debris-scattered road that they had been traveling upon. "Ooh, look over there! Is that part of a shield generator?" He walked into a field of knee-high grass and headed toward the unidentifiable object.

John followed, wishing that the grass were a little shorter. He called out to Rodney. "Hey, McKay, slow down a minute."

Out of habit, Rodney responded to the commanding sound of Sheppard's voice. He stopped abruptly. "What? Why?"

John waved a hand at the surrounding gold and green vegetation. "In case you haven't noticed, the weeds around here are a little tall."

Rodney circled a hand in the air, motioning for John to get to the point as he prompted, "And, so?"

"So, who knows what might be hiding in the weeds. Besides the hi-tech toys, there might be something low-tech like a tiger trap."

Rodney's eyes widened. His voice changed in pace and pitch, reflecting his increasing concern as he asked for clarification. "Tigers? Did someone say they had tigers?"

John shrugged and smiled. "Well, no."

Rodney turned to resume his trek.

John cautioned, "Which is not to say that they don't have something equally dangerous hiding in the grass." He added, "Maybe you should be looking out for something on a bit smaller scale, like snakes."

Rodney took a quick step back to where he'd previously been standing. "Snakes?" His eyes rolled right and left as he completed a survey of the immediate area. He detected nothing living crawling through the knee-high grass, and calmed himself. "Yes, well, I'm dressed properly for off-world exploration. My boots are high enough and tough enough to stop anything as small as a snake. My pants are tucked into my boots so that nothing can get under my clothing." Reassured, he continued, "Yes well, Sheppard, if you'd care to lead the way, I wouldn't object."

John countered Rodney's suggestion with one of his own. "I think we should just stick to the road. There's more than enough wreckage nearby that we don't have to run through the fields looking for more."

Rodney stabbed his index finger toward the road in an emphatic gesture. "Okay, fine. If you want to take the slothful road, and go and look over the easy pickings that the Tovarians have no doubt already scavenged for any possible useful items, please feel free. I'm going to do something productive, and head over there." Rodney turned and walked away from the road while John watched his retreating back.

The scientist did not manage to take more than a dozen steps before he abruptly fell flat on his face, uttering an inarticulate, "Umph!" John was surprised when Rodney did not immediately get up despite the fact that he was obviously trying to do so. Sheppard shifted to the balls of his feet, responding to the panicked words and actions as Rodney's struggles increased. "Ugh! Ah! Help!" John ran to assist his friend.

xxxxx

Ronon and Teyla were enjoying the Tovarian's hospitality when they realized that an hour had passed, and their teammates had failed to contact them. They exchanged concerned looks, and with a nod to Teyla, Ronon politely excused himself to perform what should have been a routine check in.

He keyed the mic on his radio. "Sheppard. McKay. Come in." He waited for a reply that did not occur as expected. His concern mounting, he repeated, "McKay. Sheppard. Come in."

He heard a click, as if someone had activated their mic. A faint hiss came through his earpiece, as if the mic were open but no one was talking. He asked, "McKay? Sheppard?"

He was about to repeat his inquiry when Sheppard's voice came over his headset. "He-e-y."

Ronon raised his eyebrows at the drawled, drawn-out reply. His voice questioning more than just the identity of the speaker, he asked, "Sheppard?"

John responded brightly, "Hey, Ronon!"

Ronon was by no means reassured by John's carefree tone of voice. He requested additional information. "You okay?" His worry increased when John repeated his previous comment.

"Hey, Ronon!"

"Hey, yourself. You want to tell me what's going on?"

"Wow. You gotta see this."

Ronon ground his teeth in frustration. "See what?"

"Wow. This is. . . Wow."

"You said that. Now, you wanna tell me where you are?"

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

John echoed, "What?"

Ronon walked toward Teyla, waving her to his side as he spoke into his mic. "Where are you?"

"I wanted to stay on the road, and Rodney wanted to stay off the road. So, we're off-roading."

Teyla keyed her radio so that she was listening in on the conversation.

Ronon decided to try a different question. "Is Dr. McKay there?"

There was a long pause before John answered, "Huh. I guess not."

While Ronon continued his frustrating conversation with John, Teyla went to inform the Tovarians that she and Ronon needed to seek out their absent team members.

Teyla asked the Minister, "Is there anything dangerous in the area that might have caused my friends to be delayed?"

Minister Kelene hastened to allay any concerns. "Please be assured. My people have traveled the road countless times. I know of nothing there that would cause any harm to befall your friends."

Teyla smiled to let the Minister know that she accepted her statement at face value. "I am sure that my friends have only been temporarily delayed. Nevertheless, Ronon and I would like to make certain that they are all right."

"Of course. Please let me know if you require our assistance."

"Thank you. We shall."

Teyla had been able to overhear Ronon's conversation. She knew that the Satedan had not been able to obtain any concrete information from Sheppard. Teyla nodded toward Ronon and gestured toward the door to illustrate her statement: "It is time to go."

Ronon was already on the move before Teyla finished speaking. She hurried her pace in order to catch up with the Satedan's longer strides.

They had been walking for perhaps fifteen minutes when Ronon's excellent peripheral vision enabled him to pick up on something that glittered in the sunlight of a field near the main road. He turned to the side of the road, and could see by the trampled grass that someone else had also been attracted by the shiny object. He informed Teyla, "They went this way."

She nodded. Instead of immediately heading into the field, she paused to search among the detritus on the road. A moment later she picked up a five foot length of metal tubing. She tapped it against the ground and declared, "This will make a good staff."

Ronon agreed. "Good idea." He reached for the object, but Teyla refused to give it up. Her chin raised in defiance as she turned down his unspoken offer to lead the way into the field. As much as Ronon wanted to take point, he did not intend to forcibly remove the makeshift staff from Teyla's hands. His frustration showing, he gestured for her to walk ahead of him. "You first." He took a moment to draw his weapon before he followed his teammate into the sea of vegetation.

Teyla carefully swept the staff through the grass ahead of her as they followed the obvious trail left by their friends. Teyla stopped when she came to an area where the grass had been flattened, as if someone had rolled upon it. She used her staff to poke at the vegetation.

Ronon crouched down to take a closer look at the area. He used the barrel of his weapon to lift up a long, trailing section of vine. "This has been cut. Recently." He added, "With a knife."

He frowned when he noticed that the plant had left a sticky residue on his gun. He wiped the weapon against the leg of his pants, and managed to remove most of the offending material.

John and Rodney were making no attempt to hide their trail. Although it was unnecessary, Teyla gestured toward a forested area off to their right. "They went this way." The trail was well marked, but there was nothing to indicate that any serious harm had befallen their missing teammates.

Teyla and Ronon had been walking in the forested area for not more than ten minutes before Teyla noticed something, or rather someone, leaning against a tree. She quickened her pace when she realized that she had found one of the missing men. She called out as she ran: "John!"

She reached John at the same time that Ronon did. They looked down at Sheppard, who seemed to be intact physically. He smiled up at them. "Hey! You came!"

Slightly out of breath, Teyla waved a hand over her shoulder, indicating events past. "When you could not answer Ronon's questions, you left us no choice."

John nodded, still smiling. "Well, alright then."

Ronon asked, "What happened? Where's McKay?"

Instead of answering, John used the tree at his back to support himself as he clumsily made his way to his feet. Ronon stuck out a hand in a silent offer of assistance, but John waved him off. "Hey, no. I don't need your hand." John gave a childish giggle and flapped his own hands in Ronon's face as he stated, "I've already got two of my own."

Now standing instead of sitting, John slouched back against the sheltering tree. His voice sounding more like the familiar Colonel John Sheppard, he made a motion with his right hand to illustrate an order to both Ronon and Teyla. "Step aside." After they had repositioned themselves to John's satisfaction, the team leader declared, "That's better. You were blocking my view." John was no longer looking at his teammates, but at something off in the distance.

Ronon and Teyla turned to see what had drawn John's attention. They saw nothing more than the rotting stump of a long-dead tree. Concerned, they watched as John stared contentedly in the same direction.

Sheppard continued to stare. "Isn't that the coolest thing you've ever seen?"

Ronon pointed toward the tree stump. "You mean that?"

John nodded. "Well, yeah."

Teyla decided that a change of subject was in order. She stated, "We found some vines that had been cut. Did you do that?"

John returned her question with one of his own. "Do what?"

Teyla shook her head. "Never mind."

John began humming to himself, and resumed his blissful contemplation of the tree stump.

Ronon stated, "I'll go look for McKay. You get him," he hiked a thumb toward Sheppard while he continued speaking, "back to Atlantis."

Teyla interlinked her left arm with John's right, stating, "It's time to go."

John smiled and brightly replied, "Okey-dokey." He obediently began to follow where Teyla led. She reassured Ronon, "If you have not found Rodney by the time we get to the Stargate, I will have them send a search and rescue team."

xxxxx

After his encounter with Sheppard, Ronon was expecting to find an equally docile and confused McKay. Her shook his head as he followed the easily read signs of his teammates' passage through the forested area. "McKay, if you're trying to hide your trail, you're doing a pretty crappy job." That was the last thought that Ronon had for quite some time, as the sky proceeded to fall upon him and he crashed to the ground, unconscious before he landed.

xxxxx

Rodney had carefully hidden himself in a cave-like depression he'd discovered in a nearby rock formation. He cursed when he heard the evidence that the trap he'd set had been sprung. "Damn it! They've found me! Or, with any luck, there was only one of them, and he's discovered that I am fully capable of defending myself when the need arises." He squeezed his hand tightly around the gun in his right hand, comforted by the false sense of security offered by the weight and feel and knowledge of the deadliness of the weapon. Emboldened, he decided to inspect his trap.

He cautiously approached the area and found a somewhat familiar stranger lying face down upon on the ground. A large metallic object rested partially across the man's upper back. Rodney smiled, pleased at the evidence of his simple yet effective plan. The trap required someone to stupidly follow in his footsteps. Once the person stepped under a certain tree, their presence would set off a trigger that would cause the object to fall. This fellow had apparently made the fatal mistake of underestimating his opponent. Rodney's pleasure increased when he noticed the blood on the man's head, evidence that Rodney had precisely gauged the release mechanism so that it would stop a man in his tracks. Rodney jumped when he heard a pained breath issue from the man's throat.

"Damn! He's not dead!" Rodney debated whether or not he should put a bullet in the man's head to finish the job, but decided that, as the man was not currently a threat, it made more sense to conserve his ammunition. Besides, he'd already seen more than enough blood for one day.

Rodney hurried back into the rocks, knowing that their solid surface would make it difficult for anyone to pick up his trail. After a few minutes of making his way carefully through the rocky terrain, he heard a voice call over his radio. "Ronon. Ronon, Dr. McKay, please respond." Although he was well aware that the 'Dr. McKay' the voice referred to was he himself, Rodney had no idea who Ronon was, or the identity of the caller. He continued to listen as the voice repeatedly requested a response from Ronon or Dr. McKay. Rodney muttered to himself. "It's some kind of code, I know it is. I could figure it out if I could just think." He smacked a hand against his head, then frowned in pain. "Ow!"

He paused in his travels when the voice finally changed the message that it was sending. "If you can hear me, I have reached the gate. Help will soon be on the way."

Rodney ripped the radio from his head and crushed it into the rocks with the heel of his booted foot. He had finally figured out the meaning behind the coded message. "Shit! The radio! I should've known! They're using it to track me." He rubbed a hand along his forehead and tried to ease the ache that had been steadily building since he'd first been attacked by the vine-thing. "For all I know, they could've used something in the radio to damage my brain." He began to panic at the thought. "That would explain my headache! And why I can't remember anything! Oh, God, I've been brain damaged!"

Rodney did the only thing he could think to do: he ran. Overwhelmed with terror, he was unable to process anything other than the need to flee. Relying on his lower brain functions and fueled by adrenaline, he became a creature of pure instinct. He ran, heedless of the rocks that tripped him at every turn, at the numerous skin tears and bruises he collected with every fall. He continued to pick himself up and run on. He forced air into tortured lungs, his hand digging into his side where abused muscles ached in protest of his headlong flight. He might have continued on for miles, if he had not stumbled into a patch of dense vegetation. The vines did not deter him; they merely slowed his progress. He fought his way through the tangled vegetation that towered over his head and tried to keep him captive. The dark density of the vines began to decrease, and Rodney struggled to reach the promised daylight. It was the last thing he did.

His mouth formed an 'O' of surprise when he stepped through the vegetation and onto - nothing. He clutched at the vines behind him but they were unable to support his weight. The ground disappeared from beneath his feet. Stealth forgotten, he screamed as the vines were pulled from the earth, and he fell. The screaming stopped as abruptly as it began.

The forest grew quiet when the echo of the scream faded. Sound slowly returned as the local wildlife ventured out of dens and burrows now that the interlopers had been silenced. A whiskered nose sniffed curiously at a recumbent form, tongue licking out to taste, hoping to find something edible.

xxxxx

Hm, this seems as good a place as any to take a break. Ho, hum, nothing much going on, guess I'll toddle off for a wee nap.

(For the non-Canadians reading this, a parkade is the Canadian counterpart of the Americans' parking garage.)

xxxxx

concluded in Part 2

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