Ronon had no room to pace.

He settled for controlled breathing.

Crouched on the edge of the seat, he leaned forward as the jumper dropped and began it's rotation towards the gate. Sheppard punched the address into the DHD and the event horizon stabilized into liquid blue. The gate on Vale was not an option so they were skipping to a nearby space gate, then making the seven hour trip to the planet.

Seven hours.

Too long.

Too much time.

But it was all they had.

No one spoke as they moved forward.

The tension level inside the jumper was furious and fixated. Sheppard, Lorne, McKay and Ronon filled the front half. Add in Evan's team, extra boxes of ammo, a case of C4 and a two RPG's in the back half, and you had a metal can of full of just-give-me-a-reason.

And Ronon really, really hoped someone gave him a reason.

Because right now he wasn't even set to stun.

Something was very, very wrong. He'd known it since they'd returned from MX2-152. At that point, Jennifer had only been gone for a couple of hours.

Then yesterday morning, the feeling that she needed him settled into the pit of his stomach and he couldn't shake it. Sheppard's agitation level was just as high so Ronon chose to ride it out – and stick with the Colonel. If they needed to leave, he was damn well going to be ready.

Then when he'd heard from Sheppard exactly where Jennifer was, he really had to fight the beast inside him that wanted to turn around and pound the hell out of Woolsey for leaving the planet without them. Without her. Ronon saw the look of guarded understanding on Sheppard's face, and the worry his friend was trying not to show. The way John kept flexing his fingers next to the hilt of his gun killed any thoughts Ronon had that he was overreacting.

And now – now he knew there was no overacting.

She did need him.

He willed a silent message to Jennifer to hang on. To Teyla. He was coming. They were coming.


They landed under the cover of darkness, after spending time observing the layout and movement of a reasonably large village south of the main city. It was an interesting twist in strategy having a cloaked ship. Hovering above your target, unobserved, certainly made observation and planning a hell of a lot easier.

The sensors were picking up life-signs clustered across the lower plateau near the gate, and a massive blip which indicated the central city. There were no transmitter signals, which drew a moment of silent concern inside the jumper, until McKay pointed out three perfectly square areas, several miles in diameter outside the city. Each large chunk of land contained absolutely no life signs within the perfectly lined borders. Unusual in itself, but with the addition of a surging power source in the vicinity, made the situation far more than coincidental, and everyone agreed.

It would be their second stop.

But First, Sheppard wanted to stop in one of the outlying villages. Gather intel. They wouldn't be welcome inside the capital city… that much was certain. But they might be welcomed inside the villages.

Ronon liked Sheppard's quote about the enemy of your enemy being your friend. It was appropriate, and in this case, a solid strategy. If these villagers were already involved in a war with the Vales, then perhaps they'd be more forward with the information on how to get Jennifer and Teyla back.

Since moving into the village with a group of heavily armed Marines would probably be seen as a sign of hostility, Ronon accompanied Sheppard alone. The others remained with the cloaked jumper, keeping in radio contact, ready to fly in and retrieve them should anything go wrong.

They moved quickly through the forest from the landing site to the village, slowing to take the road, walking without hurried speed. Ronon knew John was just as agitated, but they both did their best to show a casual purpose.

SGA-4's report on the main city told of multi floored buildings and paved roads, reasonably advanced power and technology and a friendly and polite populace. But this village was old and crumbling, and from what Ronon could see in the torch light, the city dwellers didn't share their good fortune with the outlying villages. Definitely cause for distrust. If only SGA-4 had taken time to explore a little deeper. People who ignored their immediate neighbors couldn't be trusted to trade with integrity.

The pair of sentries they encountered on the edge of the town acted with bravado, but Ronon knew Sheppard let them get away with being pushy. He could have dropped both men before they even thought about moving their rifles from their cradled position. John quickly talked them into a pass to the tavern, announcing themselves as thirsty travelers from another world. Because they were only two, and strangers to the planet, the sentries let them go, with a warning to avoid the main city, who's lights could be seen tinting the sky in the distance. John accepted the warning with concern, hesitating before walking away.

"Say." John turned back towards the two young men. "These Vales… we've been looking for a couple friends of ours who might have actually gone to the city. We haven't heard from them in a couple of days. Anything we should be concerned about?"

The two men exchanged glances.

"Are your friends from your world as well?" The taller of the two asked.

"Yes." Ronon leaned closer, tension filling his chest. "Is that a problem?"

"Depends." The second man answered. "What?" he frowned at his friend, who nudged him with a frown.

"Depends on what?" John stepped closer. "Look, we're really worried about them. Anything you can tell us would be… appreciated."

The tall man sighed. "Are your friends men… or women?"

"Why's that important?" Ronon growled.

"Women." John answered.

The two men shared another knowing glance.

"What!" The exasperation in John's voice came through louder than he intended. He sighed. "Look. If you know something…?"

"Okay, look." The shorter man glanced quickly around, as though to make sure there was no one else around. He leaned closer, his voice low, bringing all four heads lower. "We don't know for sure, but we've had a few travelers… like yourselves… passing through the Ring… and all of them heading to the city. When they return… they're escorted by the Valian Guard… and um… without the women. The Guard sees them back through the ring to wherever they came from I guess. Some return within a day or two with large shipments and boxes, others don't come back."

"And what is in these boxes?" John's eyes narrowed.

"Don't know." The taller man shrugged. "But the men who bring the boxes…" he cleared his throat, looked quickly over his shoulder, then dropped his voice low. "The men who bring the boxes through never return."

"Where do they go?"

Both men shrugged.

"And the women?" Ronon asked, his mind quickly connecting the blackmail and possible execution of the messengers. He banished the thought that the bait – the women - would be harmed once the goods were delivered. Banished the thoughts and buried them. Emotions would cloud his judgment and slow his reflexes. He needed clarity. He needed concentration. He needed her.

Both of the village men shrugged again, answering Ronon's question. "We've heard… tales… of a camp outside the city. Somewhere to the East." The taller man pointed over John's shoulder. "But no one who's ever set out to find it ever comes back."

Ronon and John exchanged glances, their suspicions on the mysterious dead areas outside the city now confirmed.

"Vales are not to be trusted." The second man added. "No matter what they promise you in return. You have only to look at the lights and power of their city, their excessive ways, to know this. Go home. You can not help your women."

"And what about your women?" Ronon asked.

The tall man smiled grimly. "Our women are not allowed out of the villages."

"Hell of a lifestyle." John muttered.

"It is better than the alternative." The man shrugged, then glanced over his shoulder into the poor village. "They do not seem interested in what we would have to offer anyway, other than to demand half our crops in payment for letting us live on their land. It is the travelers from the gate who draw their attention in other ways."

"If your friends are missing," the shorter man said solemnly. "I suggest you mourn your losses and move on, before you find yourselves dead and buried beneath a Cosh tree."

Both villagers nodded in agreement before stepping away, returning their rifles to their cradled position and resuming their walk around the perimeter of the city.

"Not a chance." Ronon growled, running with John as he moved quickly through the trees, back in the direction of the jumper.