Angela, you know this fic would be nothing but a badly-written, plotless blunder without you!
Notes: I really didn't mean to be evil! It didn't actually occur to me that, uh, that was a rotten way to leave them, because, well, I know what comes next! Read on and you will too. Oh, and, seriously! You guys are so nice! Gosh, I'm impossibly thrilled that you like the fic! Thank you so much. Really, thank you.
Chapter 6: Ashes in the jumper. Ashes in the city.
Teyla and Ronon ran as fast as they could once they had requested backup from Atlantis. They hurried to the village silently, all their energy spent on the run rather than useless thoughts.
Elizabeth had requested they step through the gate, provide more information and depart with the backup team, but Teyla had refused, speaking to Elizabeth more forcibly than she ever had. Ronon had caught a glimpse of Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan, leader of the Athosian people. He knew her most as Teyla, team-mate, stick-fighting marvel and friend, but her position was of no surprise to him; Teyla was a natural leader, strong willed, confident and caring.
They ran until their breaths came in pants and the village could be seen. One gesture from Ronon sent them off-course, into the forest. There they were forced to walk slowly, noiselessly, so not to jeopardise their position. The foliage whispered with the breeze, high above Teyla and Ronon's head, louder than the quietness of their steps.
They reached the edges of the forest and the sound of cheering grew louder, as did the screams. Long, pain-filled, desperate screams. They crouched behind the last line of trees and looked upon the centre ground. The villagers danced more enthusiastically than before, stepping close to the fires which sent sparks to the sky. The cheered and laughed with a joyful lack of restraint.
Teyla's eyes found the source of the beastly screams. Her hand latched on Ronon's arm. She inhaled sharply before speaking his name. "Ronon."
He too, had seen. "We have to –"
"Go. Go free them. I will occupy the villagers until backup comes from Atlantis."
Ronon nodded and left the protective shadow of the tall trees. Teyla stepped out behind him, her eyes on Rodney's face, a testament to the obscene amount of pain the human body could suffer. She took hold of her P-90 and held it firmly before crossing into the lighted circle. The villagers had seen them and stopped their dance. A few had gone hurriedly and Teyla could only assume they had done so to fetch weapons. She raised her P-90 higher and spoke, becoming the leader she seldom could be since joining the Atlantis team.
"We have come for our people. Do not move and you will not be harmed."
Ronon heard Teyla's voice under the screams and knew she would do her task with great prowess. He did not see a way to do the same. He could only fulfil his duty with speed and a distinct lack of skills. He walked around the pyre, evaluating his position. The flames had not yet latched onto Sheppard and McKay, though they were much too close; fire reached out to the skin but seemed to prefer the wood. Ronon could see large blisters one the men's upper bodies, and quickly returned his sight to the large pile of burning wood, searching for a way to reach the men trapped beyond his reach.
He found the easiest path and proceeded to step into the fire. One foot on a fiery log brought hot, sizzling pain to his leg but he continued with his mission, bringing the other one in the blaze. His hands closed around the wooden frame holding Sheppard and he pulled with all his strength. Sheppard screamed with renewed vigour when he crossed the flames that encircled the two men, but Ronon had no time to tend to him. He deposited his burned burden on the ground and turned back to seek McKay.
Jostled from Sheppard's removal, the frame had slipped, falling to the right and bringing Rodney's head dangerously close aflame wood. It slipped further as Ronon reached for it, stretching further to stop its descent. McKay's body was engulfed by flames for a mere second and his screams were as the ones heard during cullings, when the Wraith took everything a man possessed. Ronon gave one strong pull and carried the frame to its counterpart that held Sheppard to the ground.
Both men were disoriented and terrified, but Ronon was forced to ignore them in favour of the raging villagers that threatened Teyla. He moved to her side, disregarding the way his leather trousers stuck to his skin, pulling it away from his flesh with each step. He drew closer and smiled with feral enjoyment at the sight of seven Marines taking position behind his team-mate.
Teyla had fired two short bursts from her weapon and that had succeeded in cowing the villagers. The man she had traded with, Tlehir, stood before them all, his face set with anger. "You are a traitor, have betrayed the traditions of this world! You do not trade with us only to renege on the agreement!"
"I am a trader. We owed nothing to you. Now please, move away, or I will be forced to fire upon you." She had been taught to respect other's beliefs, but tonight she would forget those teachings and respect only her own. Respect of others, their lives, was more important than any traditions one could hold! You did not squander the precious gift of life on perverse enjoyment, on sordid entertainment! She would not allow her people to come to harm so villagers could dance! She heard a long, terrified scream and thought, with an unbearable guilt, that she had allowed it. When left to protect the team, she had failed.
The villagers who had departed returned with weapons and stood by Tlehir, a fierce glare in their eyes. Teyla readied herself to fire. They stepped towards her and she unleashed the full power of the machinery she held. It wounded the first line of villagers and they fell. They were left to hold their entrails in and suffer the pain as the rest of their people continued to advance on Teyla. She fired once more, as did Ronon who had joined her resistance. He killed villagers with precise shots.
"Please, desist on your advance or you will all fall."
The inhabitants of this world took three more steps before the fierceness fell away from their faces and they looked once more the benign people they had seemed to be, much to Teyla's surprise. She did not have to wonder long for an explanation.
"Do as the lady says and no one else gets hurt."
She felt a satisfied smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Surely, the villagers had seen the soldiers step out of thin air. That was her favourite trick, to step out of the puddle jumper and scare the bejesus out of the people, as the Colonel was fond of saying. It held enough surprise to be of a distinct advantage.
As if following her train of thought, Ronon moved away. "Sheppard and McKay need assistance."
"We'll handle this," the leader of the rescue team said.
Teyla nodded and left the villagers to the men that had come from Atlantis. She followed Ronon hurriedly as his long stride took him quickly to their fallen friends.
McKay and Sheppard lay where they had been left, coughing with great effort, breathing heavily. They moved restlessly, attempting to free themselves. McKay, dressed only in a loincloth, had sustained much damage to his lower body. His skin was a violent red, littered with blisters, their quantity diminishing as her gaze roamed up to his head. His face was a grimace of pain, as was the Colonel's. He had been fortunate to regain his clothing, less his boots, and as such had been lightly protected. It hung in taters on his trashing frame, blisters visible on his legs. The soles of both men's feet were a mass of large blisters. Teyla crouched beside Rodney, looking over at the fire as it crept closer and closer to the central spike. They had been too late, but early enough to avoid their men a gruesome end.
Ronon knelt beside Sheppard and spoke loudly, searching for the man beyond the red, blotchy skin. "Sheppard! Stop moving!"
Teary, red-rimmed, bloodshot, hazel eyes blinked open briefly, but Sheppard only coughed before they shut.
Teyla's hand hovered over Rodney's skin, unwilling to touch and cause further anguish. "Rodney. Rodney, you must not move, you will only hurt yourself."
Ronon shook his head and answered Teyla's plea. "They don't hear us. Cut the leather, we'll get them to Atlantis."
"Yes, Doctor Beckett will see to them."
They took out their knives and cut the leather that held arms and ankles to the frames, careful to avoid touching Sheppard and McKay's skin. Rodney opened his eyes a fraction just as Teyla brought the knife to cut the leather around his waist. She was unaware of his semi-conscious gaze on her until he gave a frightened yelp and doubled his effort to move away. His stomach moved and the knife that was busily cutting the leather slipped against his skin. The screams that had abated came with renewed vigour. Sheppard's followed half a second later. Teyla's distress rose with the cries. She gritted her teeth and snapped the ties with a strong pull.
Free from their bonds, the men writhed on the ground, their damaged skin rubbing against the grainy sand.
"Rodney. Be calm, you are in no danger." The sound of P-90s firing belied Teyla's reassurance.
"There's nothing we can do here." Ronon watched the fight between Marines and villagers, happy to see that his side was winning. He rose to his feet and said, "I'll help," before throwing himself into the fray.
Teyla watched him go, noticing the limp he was unable to hide. She remained crouching beside Rodney, soothing both men with softly spoken words. The sounds of the battle reached them, the sight one she had become accustomed to. Villagers fell under the spray of bullets; many ran, only to be reached by a ray of red light. None would survive because these men were trained to kill. They did so efficiently and would not cease until the last opponent had fallen, or someone ordered a stand-down. The order would not come, their leader had fallen, and perhaps that only enticed them to the kill. Seeing the retreat the villagers attempted, Teyla wondered if she should not restrain the rescue team, prevent Ronon from running after them as he did, giving into his thirst for retribution.
Rescue became carnage as more bronzed bodies fell, their blood seeping into the sand. Sounds of battle filled the night: cries of the defeated as bullets were fired and hit their mark, the discharge of P-90s and one Satedan weapon.
Teyla heard those, a violent background to the whimpering of the injured men upon which she kept guard. "All is well. Do not worry. We will take you back to Atlantis; you will be well cared for," she soothed.
Suddenly, only the sounds of a peaceful night could be heard. The animals had gone to hide, the villagers were no more, only crunching sand and the sparks of bonfires remained.
Ronon reached his team-mates before any other. He had eliminated the threat and avenged his honour as well as Sheppard and McKay's. He was satisfied, until he saw the frown marring Teyla's features.
"Killing them all was unnecessary."
Ronon shrugged. "Not everything we do is out of necessity."
She stared at him in silence before turning to speak to the assembled men. "They require medical attention. We must return to Atlantis."
Four men lifted Sheppard and McKay off the ground and carried them to the jumper with as much care as would be given to a newborn. The injured continued to fight the assistance, thrashing as forcibly as their limited strength would allow, moaning their distress and ire in the same breath. They were settled on the benches in the rear portion of the ship as it rose gracefully in the air. The road to safety and medical care was a clear path in the dark sky.
The beautiful bodies of this world's inhabitants, so admired less than a day before, rested grotesquely in the sand. The wind carried the scent of blood to the animals that had once been their preys. Only a pile of SGC-issued effects, large boot-prints in the sand and the casings of bullets were left to bear witness to the Atlanteans' play in the night's tragedy.