Ronon POV

It took longer than I expected to kit Galan out in the Tarus armoury and by the time he was armed with rifle, handgun and a knife we were running late to get to Atlantis. "Sorry for the delay," I told everyone as we entered the gateroom and found them waiting. "We ready to go?"

The room fell silent. "Ah… just about," Sheppard shot a look at Galan standing beside me.

"You said there was gonna be wraith," I told him. "Wait 'till you see Galan in action… They won't stand a chance."

He exchanged looks with McKay and Teyla. "Uh, Ronon…how 'bout you and I have a word?" He gestured for me to follow him away from the others.

"What about?" I placed my hands on my hips and stood fast.

"Come with me we'll talk about it in private." He began to walk.

"You got a problem taking Galan?"

"Uh," he paused and turned back. "Well, yes. As a matter of fact I do. You see, when it comes to things like taking a team off-world, I don't always get to make the decisions." He rested the tips of his fingers lightly upon his hip. "For example, if I was to say…take another person along – particularly if that person was someone I was unfamiliar with – then I would be expected to clear it through Stargate Command first."

"So clear it now."

"It's not quite that simple. There's protocol to follow, paperwork that needs to be filed…in advance."

"You think paper work's gonna save your arse when the wraith show?" I asked. "We need Galan."

He looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Yeah. It's not that I don't get what you're saying. It's just that I already have a member of my team who kind of specializes in that sort of thing..." He pursed his lips and looked at me directly. "You."

I held his gaze. "I say we need one more."

He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a long sigh. "I can't do it, Ronon. Weir would never allow it. And besides…" he looked at Galan, "…no offence here, but I can't go out there with someone I don't know. Things go wrong and someone could wind up getting hurt."

"That's it?" I struggled to comprehend. "You're saying no, without even discussing it?"

He sucked his breath in through his teeth. "There's really nothing about it to discuss. I don't need anyone else. The team's complete."

I straightened up and met his gaze squarely. "Yeah? I wouldn't be so sure."

"Hey Ronon," Galan cut in. "These guys don't want me along, it's their loss. I'll head back. You go on without me."

I put my hand on his arm to stop him leaving. "We go together." I looked at Sheppard. "Either way."

The room fell silent, as if everyone in it was holding their breath. "I'm sorry Ronon," my friend exhaled slowly. I can't take him."

I narrowed my eyes and held his gaze, challenging him to reconsider but the seconds ticked by and he showed no sign of relenting. "Fine. Guess you've made your choice then." I turn and strode from the room.

Galan caught up with me in the corridor outside. "There's no need to go to this trouble on my account. I get what the man's saying."

"You do?" I looked at him in amazement.

"Sure. I don't like it, but if you go by the book then 'know the men you lead' is a basic commandment."

"Sounds like bullshit to me."

He laughed. "No disagreements there."

"Who cares," I growled. "Let's hit the firing range – let off a few rounds."

He grinned. "Fine by me. You know I'm always up for it."

We reached the portal but suddenly I found myself hesitating to enter. My friend were about to go off-world. Without me they were severely down in firepower. If they were to encounter the wraith—

"You coming?" Galan prompted.

I sighed, imagining all kinds of scenarios that might befall them. "I can't let them go out there without me," I told Galan. "I have to go back."

He shrugged. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

"You're okay about it?"

"Sure. I might go seek out that wife of yours, take her up on that offer to check out the airfield."

I smiled, relieved by his understanding. "Go easy on her. She's not exactly your biggest fan, you know."

"I think you and I both know she can take care of herself," he grinned as he stepped through the portal and disappeared.

I drew my gun from its holster and hurried back to join my friends.

Sara POV

Finding Galan on my doorstep first thing in the morning was not exactly a perfect start to my day. The very sight of him set my teeth on edge and I eyed him coldly. "I thought you were with Ronon?"

"Change of plans," he replied. "Thought I'd take you up on that airfield tour you promised instead."

As much as I really wanted to tell him to get lost, I somehow found myself asking him inside. "Give me a few minutes to get Natara sorted. I'll be back soon."

"All good," he stepped past me and headed towards the dining room. "I'll wait for you in here."

"Sure. Make yourself at home," I oozed sarcasm.

He snorted lightly and I had the feeling he was laughing at me, but I didn't risk turning to look in case he saw me. A moment later I heard Isobel exclaim in surprise as she exited the dining room at the same time as Galan entered.

"Ah, good," Galan looked her up and down. "I'll have a coffee while I'm waiting. Black. No sugar." He kept walking without waiting for a reply.

Isobel looked at me open mouthed and I bared my teeth and clawed my hands in silent demonstration of what I would like to do to the man. We held one another's stares and then broke into silent laughter before leaving to tend to our tasks.

I lingered over what to wear for longer than I cared to admit. The idea of appearing in sandals and a sundress as the useless woman Galan apparently saw me as was tempting, but more appealing still was my desire to show this egotistical man that a woman could be just as professional and capable as any male of our species.

In the end I chose my burgundy leather pants and jacket, completing the look with black flat soled boots and a band to tie my hair back. That I felt I had to impress irked me no end, but if I was going to do it, then I intended to do it properly.

I left Natara happily playing with Summer while Isobel looked on, and soon found myself alone in Galan's company again.

"Do you like it here so far?" I attempted conversation as we walked to the airfield.

"It's not Sateda," he replied gruffly.

I watched him from the corner of my eye. He carried his head high and walked with a strut that made me itch to tell him just how amazing Tarus was and how lucky he was to be here. Instead, something in the set of his jaw made me rethink my reply. "Ronon tells me Sateda was magnificent," I said. "His word. Not mine."

He kept his gaze fixed ahead, but nodded his agreement. "It's a good word."

I nodded. "I keep having to remind myself that it's only been a week for you and the others. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you all."

He shrugged. "We'll survive."

"You sound like Ronon."

We were silent for a moment and Galan changed the subject. "The wraith made you a runner?"

"They did," I wondered how much of my past Ronon had shared with him. "They were hoping I would lead them back here – to Tarus, but the tracking device blocked my memory so it was never a possibility."

"Must have been tough out there, hunted and alone."

"It was," I admitted, recalling the fear and loneliness that had been my constant companions. "I wasn't nearly as accomplished at it as Ronon – mostly I just kept on the move and did my best to avoid being caught. I only fought back if I had no other option."

"Still pretty impressive," Galan shrugged, and then smiled, "For a woman."

I laughed, suddenly wondering if maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Was it possible we had just got off on the wrong foot with each other? "You'd be surprised what we're capable of," I told him.

He snorted. "Makes no difference to me, sweetheart. A woman should cook, clean and open her legs when required – I could care less about anything else."

I grit my teeth, back to disliking him all over again. Thankfully we had reached the airfield and I led the way out onto the tarmac where three sparcs and single apec were parked up outside the aircraft hangar.

"The fleet consists of 52 ships total," I explained. "38 sparcs, 12 apecs and 2 drop ships. We use the Apecs for recon missions. They carry multiple personnel, are armed and fitted with shields and cloaking devices. The downside is that they lack the speed and manoeuvrability of a sparc."

I approached the sparc on the end of the row and opened the lid to step up into the cockpit. "Sparcs are armed with direct-fire weapons as well as missiles. They can dogfight or target larger aircraft if flown in formation."

Galan nodded his appreciation. "Hyperspace capabilities?"

"Yes," I indicated the sequence of movements to bring about hyperspeed travel.

"What are you waiting for then?" Galan grinned and slapped his palm against the side of the cockpit. "Take her up. Show me how she handles."

I started the engine and buckled myself in. "Erik or Marcus would be better suited to give you a demonstration, but I'll do my best to give you an idea," I said as I pulled on my helmet and closed the cockpit. I radioed the control tower for clearance and rolled the aircraft onto the runway to fire up for take-off. A moment later I took to the sky in a burst of power, leaving Galan and everything else far below.

I grinned from ear to ear as I levelled out and did a sweeping pass of the runway. Although flying was not my first choice of pastime it was nice to blow out the cobwebs for a change, and I set about doing just that while showing Galan a little of the ships speed and manoeuvrability. It was tempting to show off and attempt some more risky ventures, but because I hadn't flown in so long I kept the display short and landed back on the tarmac barely ten minutes after I had taken off.

"She's a real beauty," Galan grinned as he came to join me. "You have to let me sit in her. Just to get a feel."

I hesitated. "Okay. But Erik said you weren't to fly," I reminded him.

"Sitting's not flying," he held my gaze evenly.

I sighed. "Well, so long as we're clear…" I got out of the cockpit and let him climb in.

He stretched his legs out and repositioned the steering console, experimenting with the control panel to get a feel for the workings. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, but I became uneasy when he started the engine. "Galan…"

"Look," he said to me. "I'll just take her for a quick burst—

"No." I leaned over and grasped the steering console. "Turn off the engine."

"I know what I'm doing," he waved his hand dismissively. "I'll bring her back in one piece and no one will be any the wiser. Now be a good girl and stand aside so I can take off."

Short of throwing myself in to the cockpit with him, I had no other choice but to let him go. He closed the cockpit and turned the ship around for take-off. A moment later he fired up and roared down the runway.

I raised my hands to my face and shook my head. With no clearance from the control tower, it was only a matter of time before word was sent to Erik, and I knew he would be livid at having his orders disobeyed. All I could do was hope he was somewhere far enough away where he couldn't be reached.

At least Galan seemed to know what he was doing as he rocketed past overhead. I watched him perform a perfect loop and then a rapid ascent and drop, pulling up smoothly a safe distance from the ground. It was an impressive display, given it was his first time flying a sparc, but I didn't have time to enjoy it as I turned and saw Erik striding across the tarmac towards me. Wearing black combat gear with his long hair pulled back in a ponytail, I guessed he had probably come straight from the other side of the airfield.

"What's going on?" he demanded as he drew level with me. He jammed his hands on his hips and looked up to the sky. "Tell me that's not Galan up there."

"I'm sorry," I shook my head. "I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen."

Erik's expression was thunderous. "Damn it," he cursed, as Galan soared by overhead. "I knew this guy was going to be trouble. He's been sizing me up all week to pull a stunt like this." He gestured wildly in the air with his arm. "Get down here, you ignorant son of a bitch!"

Around us people were beginning to gather, standing at the edge of the tarmac, just close enough to watch the drama unfold. "Everyone's watching," I hissed to Erik. "Please, don't make a scene."

"What the hell do you expect me to do?" he spun to face me. "The guy challenges my authority in front of everyone and you expect me to walk away? It doesn't work like that, Sara. You know it."

He paced angrily back and forth until the sparc finally touched down at the end of the runway and rolled towards us. I cringed at what was to come.

"You should leave," Erik told me.

I shook my head, rooted to the spot. I did not fear for Galan – right now I was as angry with him as Erik was – but I knew a confrontation concerning him would have repercussions with Ronon. As much as I wanted to leave, I felt I owed it to him to stay and try to diffuse the situation. "Talk to him," I said to Erik. "Tell him he made an error in judgement."

"That's exactly what I plan to do," he removed his jacket and tossed it abruptly aside. "Only this time I'll use a language he understands."

Oh crap. "You're not going to fight him?"

"He started it, so I have to finish it. Either that or I risk losing the respect of every man beneath me."

The sparc rolled to a stop a short distance away and Erik strode out to meet it. Galan got out, beaming from ear to ear. "What a ship! Handles like a dream. Seriously, you need to get these things off the tarmac and out there—

"I told you not to fly," Erik cut him off, his voice icy cold.

Galan shrugged and gestured towards the sparc he had just vacated. "I bought her back safe and sound. What's the problem?"

"The problem is you disobeyed a direct order."

Galan snorted. "Give me a break. I don't take—

He broke off as Erik crashed his fist into his jaw. "Enough. You stay here, then you do as I say. Without question."

Galan lifted his hand to his mouth and pulled it back to find his fingers red with blood. He spat a large globule out onto the tarmac and lifted his fists to face Erik. "You're gonna be sorry for that."

"What are you waiting for then?" Erik goaded. "I'm right here. Give it your best shot."

Oh hell. I pressed my hand to my mouth. What was Erik thinking, picking a fight like this? What if he lost?

Confirming my fears, Galan caught him with a punch to the shoulder and the two of them quickly became embroiled in an all-out brawl. Erik towered over Galan by a good four inches, but Galan was thickset and powerful making them more evenly matched than they otherwise appeared. Add to the mix their equal determination to win and they unleashed themselves upon one another without restraint.

Within the first few minutes, both met took tumbles to the tarmac. Galan was protected a little by his coat but Erik's exposed skin scraped and bled as they scuffled together on the unforgiving surface. The crowd of onlookers started to grow bigger but there were no shouts of encouragement or placing of bets on the outcome. It seemed everyone knew the grim reality of the situation – if Galan came out victorious, Erik's command would be in serious doubt.

The two men traded blow for blow until gradually I noticed Erik was no longer exerting himself as much as Galan was. Galan must have sensed the change in power because he stepped up his efforts until Erik dropped him to the ground with a particularly well timed leg sweep.

"Had enough?" Erik stepped back and allowed him to stand.

Galan got determinedly back to his feet and raised his fists once again. "Not nearly."

They started again, Galan too proud to back down and Erik duty bound to see that he did. At this rate, the fight would not end until one of them could no longer stand. I held my breath and prayed that person would not be Erik.

A moment later Galan was sent staggering again but somehow he recovered enough to continue, connecting his foot with Erik's thigh hard enough to make him grunt with pain. I was beginning to get anxious again when Erik finally landed a strong enough punch to send Galan falling to the ground on his face. This time he did not give him the chance to get up, but instead knelt over him, digging his knee into his back and grabbing his hair to hold his head pinned against the ground. "If you want a place here, then you need to show some respect," he growled in his ear. "I give the orders, and you don't ask questions. Understand."

Galan grunted something unintelligible.

Erik shoved his face forcefully against the tarmac. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Galan breathed, "I hear you."

"Good. Then I don't expect any more trouble from you." He dug his knee in one last time for emphasis and then abruptly released him and stood back.

"Show's over," he said to the people gathered around. "Get back to what you were doing."

I looked at Erik, covered in scrapes and bruises and distinctly favouring his right leg. He had taken a beating, but he would heal. Galan however was still on the ground. I stared down at him, imagining how Ronon was going to react when word of this reached him. "What have you done?" I breathed to Erik.

He held my gaze and I knew he was thinking of Ronon too. "What I had to. I'm sorry, Sara."

He turned and walked away and I found myself once again alone with Galan. Despite seeing him so hurt, all I felt towards him was burning rage. "You idiot," I hissed as he dragged himself to his feet. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? Ronon's my husband… Erik's my brother. I won't sit back and watch you come between them."

Galan groaned and clutched his side as he tried to straighten up. "Hey…" he reached out towards me.

I shook my head and stepped away from him. "You had better put this right," I told him. "Because in my opinion you're certainly not worth the two of them falling out over." Without a backwards glance I turned and left him alone on the tarmac.