THIEVES IN ATLANTIS
BY TIPPER
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CHAPTER THREE: THE REFUGEES
"We won't hurt you," Ronon repeated, kneeling in the muddy clearing to see the two boys better.
"Unless you try to hurt us first," Sheppard whispered to himself. Ronon shot him a dark look, and Sheppard smiled cheekily. At the Satedan's raised eyebrows, Sheppard sighed, but lowered his weapon's aim. Ronon was in the process of putting his own weapon on the ground by his feet when a loud gunshot echoed in the distance, unquestionably from McKay's gun. Both men were alert, weapons facing the mill again.
"McKay!" Sheppard shouted into the radio, "What's happening? You okay?"
Ronon had looked away from the mill for a second when the shot rang out. Looking back again now...
The basement window was empty. The two boys had gone.
"No!" Ronon called, "Wait!" He jogged to the side of the mill, aiming for the door...only to stop dead as it banged open to reveal a teenage boy pointing a rifle right at his head. He was brown haired and lanky, covered head to toe in filth, and his pale blue eyes were wide and terrified.
"Don't...don't move," the boy ordered shakily.
"Not moving," Ronon promised, lifting his hands.
"Look..." Sheppard said, coming up behind them, then stopping when the second boy, much younger—perhaps eleven or twelve years old in age—but just as dirty as the first, came out from behind the door and pointed another rifle at him. Sheppard held up his hands as well, and attempted a smile.
"Look," he tried again, "we're not going to hurt you. We just want to talk. Okay?"
The boys both watched them unblinkingly, matching pale blue eyes going back and forth nervously, until the older one gave a quick nod.
"So talk," the boy said. "And make it fast. But first...who's up there? Who fired that shot? And don't lie!"
Sheppard sighed, and, as 'ordered,' started talking very fast.
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"I said, don't shoot! Don't shoot!" the woman yelled again, from wherever she was.
"Okay! Okay!" McKay shouted back, pulling his arms back in so that the gun pointed upwards, "I'm not going to shoot!" He winced as the screaming continued unabated, shaking his head at the horrible sound. And, in answer to Sheppard's shout, also added, "And I'm okay," into the radio.
"Put your gun away!" the woman yelled, before adding, in a softer voice, "Hush, Freya, it's all right. It's all right." Then, when McKay obviously didn't do as she demanded, she yelled again, "I said, put it away!"
"No!" he yelled back, still trying to see her inside the thicket. Where the hell were they? The child continued to wail, the noise heart-wrenchingly awful and, oddly, difficult to pinpoint. It seemed to be all around him.
"Why not?" the woman yelled back, her fear switching quickly to anger.
"Because…" He winced, stepping back because the screaming was just too damn painful. "Oh, for Christ's sake! Can't you shut her up! What is she trying to do, burst my ear drums?"
"Oh my soul…Are you really that heartless? She's just a child!"
"A loud one!" McKay snapped back. "A scream like that could wake the dead!"
At his yell, the little girl's screaming finally faded, becoming a sort of whimper, but the rustling in the woods grew louder. Then, out from behind a tree, a fairly tall, brown haired woman emerged, her expression thunderous. Perhaps close to fifty years in age, she wore a plain leather vest over a yellowed (possibly white once) short sleeve shirt and brown, loose trousers. Her face and arms were darkened from too much sun, but the color did not hide the strength in her—she had the body of a farmer, toned and strong. She strode forward, not hiding the Genii revolver she carried in one hand, which McKay vaguely glanced at before looking again to her bruised dark brown eyes.
"What is wrong with you!" she demanded, glaring at him with all the fury of a Valkyre. The wildness of the long brown hair loosely bunch atop her head only helped the image. "Put your gun away! You're frightening her!"
McKay's eyebrows lifted. "What, are you kidding? I'm frightening her? I'm not the one trying to sneak up on unsuspecting visitors!"
"She wasn't sneaking up on you. She was curious! You're the one who fired willy nilly into the woods with that weapon of yours! You could have killed her!" The woman was gesturing wildly, the heavy Genii revolver practically an extension of her hand as she waved it about.
McKay rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be ridiculous! If I had wanted to shoot someone, why would I shoot the tree?"
"Because you're a bad shot?" she sneered.
"Hey!" he shouted defensively. "I'll have you know I'm a great shot…most of the time…when I have time to aim…which I did. I mean, think about it! I aimed for the tree specifically because I didn't want to hit a person…if it was a person …which it obviously was…is…though how could I have known that, huh? I thought it was an animal! Could've been anything! Could've been Wraith, for all I know. So…so, just…stuff it, you overbearing harridan, and be glad I didn't aim for this alleged little girl of yours!"
The woman's eyebrows shot up, then lowered until her brow was so furrowed, she looked almost vulcan. Her hair fell forward to partially cover her face as she glared up at him, only adding to the demonic look.
"This," she stated quietly, "is not your planet, stranger. And I'd appreciate it if you left. We've got quite enough problems without your type showing up and shooting up our trees."
And then she pointed her gun at him.
McKay sighed. His own gun was in his hand, but it was loose by his side. Sort of pointless to lift it up now.
"No!" Suddenly, a dirty moppet of a child (possibly blond-haired though it was hard to tell), burst out of the woods, running towards them. "Don't make him go!" Before the woman could react, the child had barreled into the back of the woman's legs, sending her staggering forward a few steps. It forced her to almost lose her grip on the heavy revolver, and, had McKay been Sheppard, he probably would have taken advantage of the distraction to raise his own gun, or pull some other sly maneuver to get her gun away from her…but McKay wasn't Sheppard. He just sort of stood there.
"Freya!" the woman chastised, getting back into position and attempting to lift her gun again. But the child was persistent, pushing against the back of her trousers and tugging on her vest and arm, forcing the gun to stay down.
"Don't shoot him, Neera! Don't! He's got food! I saw it!"
And Neera paused, looking down at the muddy urchin, before turning back to McKay.
"She's right," McKay said, shrugging. "I do have food. Actually, so do my friends. Who will be here any moment, I might add. Lots of them. With many, many guns. So, uh…how about lowering your gun, eh? This has kinda…gotten out of hand, don't you think? Look, I even have…" He reached his free hand up to his chest, aiming to pull a powerbar from a pocket, but Neera's gun came up again, stopping him mid-motion.
"Don't move!" she shouted, a touch of fear under her anger.
"Oh for Christ's sake!" McKay snapped angrily, and started again to get into the pocket of his vest, no longer paying her any mind. "Calm down! Do I look like a killer? I'm just getting out a powerbar!"
She blinked, "A power what?"
He rolled his eyes, pulled out the silver wrapped protein bar, then knelt down and handed it towards the little girl. Neera watched, but, amazingly, didn't say anything as Freya reached forward…and took it quickly. The little girl ripped open the foil and after sniffing it, took a bite. Her expression screwed up a little as she chewed.
"It's kinda pasty," she informed them. McKay just snorted. Neera studied him a moment longer, then, with a slightly bemused expression, finally lowered her gun.
"All right, who are you?" she asked. "What do you want?"
"I'm Doctor Rodney McKay, we—" He stopped abruptly, as two things happened simultaneously. Behind him, from down the hill, running footsteps could be heard, and he glanced that way to see Teyla bounding up towards him, her P-90 strapped to her chest and her 9MM in her hand so that she could run more efficiently but still be armed. And then he turned further as the chevrons engaged on the Stargate, loudly announcing an incoming wormhole.
The little girl squealed again, and Neera once again had her gun raised and pointed at him, her face terrified.
"Rodney!" Teyla shouted, lifting her 9MM up to protect him, "Get down!"
"No, no, no!" he shouted, raising his arms up, "Stop! Wait!"
"Freya, run!" the older woman said, shoving at the little girl holding tightly to her with her leg. The girl didn't move, obviously too scared to.
"No, really," he looked at Neera, "it's okay! I promise! They're friends. Don't shoot!"
The older woman's face registered clear confusion, and she looked at Teyla then to the wormhole. She gestured that way with her gun, "But the wormhole, the Wraith might be—"
"It's just more of my people, I swear." McKay's whole demeanor had changed, all belligerence gone. The woman just blinked at him, clearly uncertain, but stuck because the child seemed to have fixed herself to the ground behind her.
"We're not gonna be slaves," the woman spat suddenly, her grip tightening on her gun. "We'll die first!"
Rodney's eyebrows shot up at that statement. "What?" Now he was the one completely confused.
By that time, Teyla was by his side and the first set of marines were stepping out of the wormhole…and immediately turned their P90s on Neera.
Her eyes were as wide as saucers now, the revolver shaking in her hand.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Rodney yelled, turning red from frustration. "Just HANG ON!" He whipped around, pointing at the marines, "You! Put those down! Now!"
Teyla, her eyebrow arched, watched as the marines hesitated a moment, then, slowly, lowered their P90s to point at the ground. A tiny smile lit her face as the disgruntled looks on the marines' faces at being ordered by McKay. It fell when the scientist turned and shot a similar look at her, the same anger now pointed in her direction.
"Oh," she said, "of course." She quickly put her 9MM back in it's holster and stood loosely, a little behind McKay as he turned his attention back to the woman.
"Now," he said sharply, "as I was saying, I'm Doctor Rodney McKay. This is Teyla Emmagen, and those soldiers behind me are from my planet. We came to see if there were any survivors, and to see if we could help. Which, really, is pretty nice of us. So…how about lowering that gun and we talk like civilized people, hmm?"
Neera continued to watch him for a moment, eyes still wide, but obviously listening.
"You're not slavers?" she asked softly.
"Please," Rodney snarled. "That's just insulting."
Her eyebrows lifted, then, with a grimace, slowly lowered her gun. When it was loose by her side, she gave him a dark look. "Fine. But if you're lying to me," her eyes narrowed, "I'll kill you."
Rodney sighed. "Oh, gee, and here I was thinking I'd hadn't had my life threatened enough this week. Now I feel so much better." Without giving Neera a chance to respond, he looked down to Freya, who had returned to gnawing on the powerbar. "Hey, moocher," he called, "How 'bout giving me half?"
Freya's answering giggle was enough to make everything all right again.
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Perhaps half an hour later, all four of the locals were standing next to the Stargate with Sheppard and McKay, while Beckett and a small med team examined them. Teyla and Ronon were down the hill with the marines, scouting for any more survivors. According to the Neera, however, there weren't any others. It was just her and the three children.
Upon being introduced, Sheppard had grimaced slightly at Neera's name, not liking the memory it generated, but, luckily, she didn't notice. She had then gone on to explain how she, Freya and the two boys (the only ones actually related—they were brothers) had separately survived the culling, then found each other afterwards. They had been living in the mill—the last intact structure—trying to decide what to do.
She also explained that they were nearly out of food. The Wraith had scoured the planet—destroying all the crops and killing all the livestock as well as most of the wildlife—leaving them with precious little to stave off hunger with winter coming soon. They just didn't know where else to go.
But that didn't mean she felt comfortable going with them, yet. She hovered near the children at all times, clearly still not fully trusting any of the Atlantians. Beckett, in particular, seemed to really bother her—probably because he was getting so close to the children.
"What is that?" she demanded, as Beckett pulled out his small medi-scanner after putting away his stethoscope.
"Just a scanner, lass," he said kindly, turning it on. "It just lets me confirm that you are as healthy as you all appear."
She snorted, flinching a little as he raised it up to scan her. She maintained a sort of distrusting wince the whole time he used it. The little girl Freya, on the other hand, seemed fascinated by the physician, standing quite close to Beckett and watching him intently. She seemed to be most fascinated by his accent, asking him repeatedly to say words twice, which Beckett seemed charmed enough to do. He was clearly as taken with the eight year old girl as she was by him.
McKay, meanwhile, was trying to slough off the younger of the two boys, whose name was Ren. He was indeed twelve years old, with long, light brown hair and blue eyes that had lit up at the sight of all of McKay's equipment. The word "nerd" might have been tattooed on his forehead, the way he had fixated on the scientist's technology like a moth to a flame. McKay was ignoring him as much as possible, but Ren refused to be shaken off, asking lots of questions, all of which the Answer Man answered...because he couldn't not. It was simply too much a part of McKay's nature.
The last was the oldest boy, Garron, who stood quietly near Sheppard himself. He was older than he looked, about seventeen in age, but he was absurdly thin and, while tall, had a sort of hunched quality to him that made him seem both younger and shorter. Once in the presence of Neera again, his voice also appeared to have vanished. He had not spoken since being brought up here—he just watched them all with an almost unsettling intensity. Like Neera, he did not seem to trust the Atlantians, despite having handed his rifle over to Sheppard down below at the mill.
After nearly a full day of searching, during which time, the sun had fallen quite close to the horizon, it was determined that Neera's pronouncement that she and her children were the only ones alive was accurate.
Elizabeth had already been informed, and she had okayed bringing them through to Atlantis.
Just four more refugees to add to the growing pot.
Neera's reluctance to go with them melted upon hearing the word "Atlantis," and her attitude towards them shifted. She still wasn't sure about them, but she clearly no longer thought they were slavers. At least, in that regards, the rumors about the "return" of the Atlantians was useful.
And so, armed only with a single (heavy) trunk, the four refugees from M4M-167 left their destroyed world and entered the wormhole to Atlantis.
None of the Atlantians following them through saw the mark the older boy, Garron, etched on the far side of one of the rocks near the Gate just before leaving.
It was the symbol for Atlantis, etched in white.
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TBC…