A/N: As promised, I'm back after the weekend. Thanks for all the reviews and alerts, etc. Keep them coming. :)


Chapter 7

After the five jumpers in the rescue party had completed their scans of the planet beneath them, Lorne gave orders instructing each team where to land to avoid the problem areas, along with the grid references of the zones each of them should search.

After studying the data they had taken back to Atlantis, Dr Zelenka had advised them that the anomalies in the systems were caused by strong magnetic fields on the planet's surface, fields powerful enough to knock out a jumper if someone flew too close, just as Lorne had suspected.

The scientist had joined Lorne's team on this mission, studying the data they collected from a safe height and creating a map of the planet, plotting out the cities and not one but fourteen heavily magnetised areas of land they couldn't enter in their craft, within which sat some kind of circular structures, one in each area. Judging by the strength of the magnetic fields, he had then been able to calculate the closest safe distance for them to land at to begin their searches.

With fourteen zones to search, it was going to take them the best part of a day to complete their checks, perhaps longer if they ran into any unexpected difficulties.

The sun was just creeping above the horizon as Lorne took his jumper to the area he had appointed his own team's first search zone and set it down at the distance Zelenka had told him would be safe. The jumper suffered no ill effects as they landed, so it seemed he'd judged it right.

As he, his team and the little scientist disembarked, they headed out in a southerly direction, the way they knew the anomaly lay in. After just a few minutes of walking, they crossed a dark band of earth, black coloured sand in amidst all the redder, sandy soil, one they had noted on landing, but which hadn't shown up on their scans.

'Interesting,' Zelenka murmured, toeing it with his boot. 'This is very close to the edge of the magnetic area as I calculated it. I wonder if the people of this planet have somehow infused the ground with a visible warning marker to stop them flying into danger.'

'Maybe so,' Lorne agreed. 'Pity we didn't realise that earlier. We could've saved a lot of time.'

'Better to be certain, though, surely?' Zelenka replied, pushing his glasses up higher to look at him.

'Yeah, you're right.' Although the thought they'd wasted two hours of potential search time on calculations didn't please him much.

They spent the following four hours covering the ground in their designated magnetised area, searching for any sign that Sheppard's team had been there. They found nothing, not a footprint nor a single nut or bolt. All they did find was the amazing walled structure, but they didn't find a way in or out of it. If there was a gate, it wasn't easily locatable. They searched all the land in their section before heading back toward the structure.

'What do you think it is?' he asked Zelenka, craning his neck to look up to the full height of the structure.

'Hard to say,' the Czech shrugged, wiping beads of sweat from his brow. 'I wonder if it's some kind of industrial development to harness the natural magnetism of the land. It's hard to imagine why else there would be any structures out here.'

Lorne looked around at his team, spotting a couple of his men rubbing at their temples. He'd been nursing a nagging headache himself for the past couple of hours and realised it was unlikely to be a coincidence. 'I was thinking it might be a city, you know, like the ones we mapped to the north.'

'I doubt anyone could cope for long in this environment. Electromagnetism of this strength could have serious neurological and physical effects on the human body if exposed over a prolonged period. No one could –'

A cry of anguish interrupted him, carrying high on the air. It had come from those walls, the sound having to travel all the way up above them before escaping its confines.

'Of course...I could be wrong,' Zelenka admitted, swallowing hard.

'Why would anyone live out here? I have a headache already,' Lorne grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

'I imagine from the fact there's no way in or out that the people within those walls may not be there by choice, but why they have been trapped out here...well, we can only begin to speculate.'

The place gave Lorne a distinctly bad feeling, especially now that he'd heard that awful cry. 'Since we've found no sign of Sheppard or his jumper I think we have to assume he's not here for the time being. But we have to bear in mind he could have crashed within the enclosure, so if we find no other clues we may have to come back with a team of assault climbers to scale those walls. Let's head back to the jumper.'

No one argued with that. By the time they reached their craft, Lorne's headache had already eased a little. He really didn't envy anyone living behind those walls.

'Okay. Onto the next zone people,' he ordered, standing aside to let everyone board the jumper before him.

Once settled he took them further east, on to the next designated area for their team. Once they'd landed in the safe area, they spread out to cover as wide a track as they could, scouring the ground for signs of life.

Private Garelli, the youngest member of his team suddenly shouted up. 'Sir. I think I see footprints over here.'

Interest piqued, the others hurried over to his position. Though the dust had been disturbed by the breeze, partial boot prints could still be seen, some of them pretty huge. They could well belong to Ronon. And other prints did seem to have the regulation military tread they would expect to find.

'Good work, Garelli. You and Reynolds see how far they head that way, the rest of us will go check out where they came from.'

Again, they could see they were approaching another walled enclosure, and as they did so, they steadily began to feel worse. They hadn't had time to recover from the four hours of exposure they'd already endured before exposing themselves to the electromagnetic field again, and this time it took effect much quicker and hit far harder. Soon, Lorne's head was aching so much he felt like he might paint the floor, and when they reached the walls, he told everyone to stop and take a break. As he popped some Tylenol, he noticed the ground looked more disturbed here than it had on the tracks they'd retraced. Sheppard and his team had stopped here, too, maybe sitting down for a breather.

Resting there did little to help any of them feel better, so they agreed to press on and complete their mission as quickly as possible. They followed the sporadic tracks onward and eventually, in the distance spotted what appeared to be the missing jumper. Picking up speed to reach it, they checked it out. The craft had obviously landed hard, so the theory they'd flown over the magnetic fields had now been proved, but when Lorne pushed inside the battered vessel and found traces of blood, he couldn't help but feel worried.

'Perhaps someone found them and they were taken to the nearest city for medical attention,' Zelenka said hopefully, but Lorne knew that wasn't necessarily a good thing. Not everyone they ran into in the Pegasus Galaxy was benevolent, after all.

'Perhaps...but wherever they are, they're not here any more. Let's get back to the jumper and try to contact the others. Now we know where they came down, the nearest city does seem like the most logical place to start searching.'

They covered the ground far quicker this time, their sense of purpose driving them on. Reynolds had already headed back there with his partner, stepping out of the cloaked craft to greet them on their return.

'Major. We followed the tracks up to just outside of that line you crossed a little way back. After that, they just disappear. Looks like they got picked up.'

Lorne nodded, swigging from his canteen to ease his parched throat. 'We figured that was the most likely outcome. Contact the others and tell them we're headed to the city nearest to the crash site to start asking questions. Hopefully someone there has seen them.'

'Yes, Sir.'

Reynolds dipped back into the jumper to send the message, while Lorne, Garelli and Zelenka took a few moments to catch their breath. They didn't get long to enjoy the rest though, because Reynolds was soon back out the ramp. 'Major, Lieutenant Morgan's team are reporting that they came under attack. A craft approached them as they were returning to their jumper and several men tried to kidnap them. Private Rafferty has been injured. Morgan says the men tried to bite chunks out of him. They're heading back to the 'gate for treatment. Jumper Two and Five are headed our way, but I couldn't raise Jumper Three, yet.'

'Bite chunks out of him? You kidding me?'

It was clear from Reynolds' expression that he was deadly serious, even without the shake of his head. Lorne's skin prickled at the thought and, scouring their surroundings, he suggested it might be wise if they all got on board and continued to try to contact Jumper Three from within the safety of its confines while they headed to the rendezvous point at the nearest city to Sheppard's downed jumper. Hopefully, Morgan's team were the only ones to have met up with the crazies of this planet, and they wouldn't come across any natives picking pieces of Lanteans from their teeth.

oooOOOooo

Ashnael had counted out the notes five times now, still hardly able to believe how much money the pilot had brought him. Fifty thousand tallots. If he didn't sell another slave for the rest of the year he would still eat well, perhaps for the next few years after that, too. He'd hardly dared to believe Magistra Tranaedan would agree to his price, but an off-worlder here on Haraendon was worth a small fortune, as his deal with the desperate woman had proved. Of course, the fact he was a pilot and therefore could slot straight into a recently vacated position within the Tranaedan household had been a stroke of luck he could never hope to replicate. Right place, right time...or wrong place, wrong time if you were Lt Colonel John Sheppard, he supposed.

He pulled the necklace the man had worn from his pocket and examined the strange markings on the surface of the pendant. There wasn't enough metal in it to make it of any real value, so he'd decided to keep it...a souvenir of the best deal he'd ever made.

Later today, Curan Bathraen would drop by his house with the ten thousand tallots he owed him for his new assistant. It was poor in comparison, but still, as an unexpected sale, he certainly couldn't grumble. And every tallot gained from those two sales made the loss of any earnings from the woman easier to bear. Who would have thought she would share a lineage with the Wraith? Her exterior and demeanour had certainly not given any clue to the secret she hid from them. Still, at least he hadn't been caught by a government spy probe with her in his house. That would have been far worse than losing a few thousand tallots.

And then, of course, there was the man lying down in his recovery room.

Packing his tallots away in the decorative casket Magistra Tranaedan had presented them in and locking it in his safe, he decided it was time to check on his new acquisition.

The journey down took only moments, and the corridors were quiet, his servants all at work in the higher levels of the house. In the recovery room, Ronon still lay unconscious, no sign that he had moved from the last time Ashnael had checked on him the previous evening. His breathing was deep and steady, his vitals holding at expected levels. He was strong, the evidence of that was plain to see. Ashnael had no doubt he would make a full recovery and quite quickly. The sooner the better as far as he was concerned. The solutions to feed him while he was kept unconscious were expensive...more expensive that normal food...even the mountainous amounts he presumed it would take to keep a man like this at the peak of physical fitness.

Allowing his fingers to trail down Ronon's arm, he had to admire the condition of the man's body. This was a being used to physical exertion – a body like this could only be obtained through hard work. He would have to make sure he had regular exercise to keep him in shape. He would speak to Exerceo Yarae about giving him some pointers. He could afford the man's services for a few days now.

He watched Ronon's broad chest rise and fall for a while beneath the neat dressings Curan Bathraen had applied after his surgery, fairly salivating at the prospect of taming the brute. It would be a challenge for a start, that much was clear. There was something almost animal-like about him...something reminiscent of a huge wildcat. Hopefully, his claws weren't quite that sharp.

With a final look, and a check of the restraints he had added to be certain he wouldn't get free should he master the sedatives, he left Ronon behind and headed back up into the main house in search of breakfast.

The table in his dining room had been set for one, several choices of dish set out for him to take his pick of his favourites. He filled his plate, and then poured himself a glass of wine to go with it. Perhaps it was a little early for such an indulgence, but he had nowhere to go today so he decided to spoil himself. But, through it all, at the back of his mind, his inner voice told him he shouldn't have to wait to enjoy his new prize. Perhaps he could just go easy on him for a few days, ensure those injured areas were protected somehow. No...no...waiting until Ronon was fully fit would be worth it, he told that tempting voice, forcing it into silence.

Dezrin appeared in the doorway just as the young boys from the kitchen began to clear away his dishes.

'I have prepared your bath for you, Mercator Ashnael,' he told him, keeping his eyes down as his master rose from the table and walked over to him.

'Thank you, Dezrin, but there has been a change of plans. I think I would prefer to indulge in a spot of sparring first. Care to join me?'

The young man's expression briefly expressed the fear that thought brought him, not that Ashnael cared. Fear and pain were what made life worth living. As long as that fear and pain were inflicted by him.

oooOOOooo

It was a great relief for Lorne when he finally received contact from Jumper Three. Their search had taken a little longer than expected due to one of their team falling unexpectedly unconscious. Lorne could well believe that; his own headache was still nagging and an unsettling nausea had descended on him and the rest of his party.

He ordered them back to the gate, even though Wallace, the team leader, was insistent they could still help. Three jumpers were enough to call on the city and ask a few questions. There was no point in bringing anyone else in if they were feeling unwell. Better that they get back to the infirmary for a check-up.

The ships all remained cloaked as they approached the towering walls, and Lorne instructed the two others to remain cloaked while he landed and tried to communicate their problem to whoever was inside those walls.

He and Zelenka departed the jumper, leaving the other three members of their party inside to guard the ship and cover them unseen should any crazies appear.

The communication system wasn't the most straightforward piece of tech Lorne had ever seen, but thankfully Zelenka swiftly had it fathomed and gave him a quick rundown of what he needed to do.

Lorne activated it and spoke into the panel. 'Uh. Hi there. My name is Major Lorne and my people and I are currently looking for some friends who crashed on your planet. Is it possible for you to let us in?'

His question didn't meet with any response at all, and after a minute or so of silence, in which Zelenka shrugged and checked the communication panel again, confirming Lorne had used it correctly, the major tried it one more time.

'My name is Major Evan Lo –'

'Do you have an authorisation code?' a voice snapped back at them through the device.

The two men exchanged a surprised glance, then Lorne leaned in to answer. 'Uh, no, we don't. Like I said, we're trying to locate some friends –'

'You cannot enter without the appropriate authorisation code,' that same voice squawked, its brusqueness not softened at all by the distortion of the mechanism.

Lorne rolled his eyes and took a deep breath to stop himself from being as sarcastic as he sorely wanted to be. Instead, he kept his response to a polite question. 'And where can we get the authorisation we need?'

After a brief pause, the voice told him, 'You need to apply to central government for authorisation to move between cities.'

This was like getting blood from a stone. Again, he kept a tight rein on his temper so he could get the information he needed to help with his mission. 'So how do I contact them?'

Another pause, then a screen above the communicator flickered into life, showing a map of the cities. The one they were at was marked out in red and another city, one far to the west of their position, flashed brilliant white. 'You are currently at Traginta Duo. You need to head to Uno, marked in white on the map. That is where central government is located. You will need to petition First Minister Thalaezin for assistance with your request.'

The screen blanked out again and the communicator fell silent. Apparently, that was the end of the conversation as far as whoever was on the other side of that gate was concerned.

'Well, at least he was helpful,' Zelenka said, trying to put a positive spin on things. 'So, are we heading over to Uno?'

Lorne planted his hands on his hips and thought about it. This was all getting more complicated than he'd imagined it would be, and if they now had to apply to government officials to gain entrance to any of the cities, he figured that was beyond the remit of his position as acting military commander.

'No. Now we head back to Atlantis and advise Dr Weir of what we've discovered so far. If anyone can talk these people into handing over whatever authorisation we need, she can.'

Zelenka nodded, then scurried along behind him as he headed back to the jumper. 'I think you're making the right call. Negotiations like these can be very delicate. Better to leave it to an expert.'

'Meaning a flyboy like me might screw it up?' Lorne asked with a smirk as they mounted the jumper's rear hatch.

'No, no, not at all,' Zelenka wittered, looking worried, 'but Dr Weir –'

'Don't sweat it, Doc. I know what you meant,' the major laughed, sliding back into the pilot seat and taking the craft up. He contacted the others still cloaked there and advised them of their new plan, and they were soon all headed back home to give Dr Weir the latest news.