DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fanfiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made.
A Day to Forget
By kerravon
This was not a good day. In fact, it was pretty much the sort of day that made you wish you could start over and just not crawl out of bed when the alarm clock went off. Unfortunately, a person invariably reached that conclusion once it was too late to do anything about it.
Sheppard scrambled down the ravine, hauling a wheezing Rodney McKay after him. Scooting along sideways in the mud, he paused for a moment to wipe the sweat out of his eyes and listen for signs of pursuit. The scientist took the brief respite as an opportunity to double over, prop his hands on his knees, and gasp for breath.
Satisfied that no one was within spear-chucking range, the Colonel whispered, "Don't get too comfortable; you can bet they're expert trackers. They'll be on our tail any second."
Rodney grimaced and wordlessly waved a hand that said, 'Yeah, yeah, give me a minute, would you?'. Sheppard quirked a half-smile at the unspoken complaint.
The LTC's radio suddenly clamored for attention. Taping the earpiece, he hissed quickly, "Sheppard here".
Teyla's matter-of-fact tones were music to his ears. "Ronan and I have reached the Stargate, but I fear the Yoldans are not far behind. What is your status?"
"Not good. Just dial Atlantis and go. We're at least two miles east of the village; there's no way we can reach you before they post guards. Get back and tell Weir what happened; have her send a rescue team…in a Jumper!"
"What will you do?" The Athosian was clearly concerned.
"McKay and I will find someplace to hide and wait for the cavalry; just key this frequency when you come back and we'll let you know where we are. Now GO!"
Breaking the connection, he glanced over to the still-panting astrophysicist. "Follow me," he whispered, "and stay low."
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The whole thing had started out innocently enough. The four had been at breakfast listening to Rodney bemoan a coffeepot that had been left on in the lab all night, with graphic descriptions of the resulting in caked-on sludge. The real tragedy, apparently, had been that the coffee came from somebody named 'Tim Horton'. Sheppard guessed it was a Canadian thing, but didn't see why this Horton guy couldn't just send more coffee. I mean, it wasn't like it was Starbucks or anything… Ronan Dex, bored with the conversation, pulled an amulet out of his shirt and started disinterestedly playing with it.
The trinket caught McKay's eye, and he stopped mid-rant and stared for a moment. Reaching for the necklace, he demanded, "Where did you get that?"
Ronan, bemusedly leaning back out of the scientist's reach, answered, "I traded for it."
Rodney, in an unexpected display of bravado, stood up and leaned over the table to examine it better. Rather than have the astrophysicist land in his lap, Dex untied the leather thong and handed the entire decoration to the eager man. McKay thumped into his seat, turning the device over and over in his hands.
After a minute he looked up. "Do you know what this is?" he asked.
"A necklace." Ronan stared at him with his trademark 'How dumb are you?' expression.
"Yes, yes, now it is. But do you know what it originally was?" He handed the intricately-detailed talisman reverently back to Dex as he spoke.
This had gone far enough; even John was getting bored of 'twenty questions'. "Why don't you just tell us, Rodney?" he asked as Ronan secured his necklace once more.
McKay wagged a finger at it. "That used to be part of an interstellar jump-drive interface; only Ancient ships like the Aurora or the Orion had them!"
"So, you think it was salvaged from a crashed Ancient ship?" Teyla failed to see the significance of the find.
The lightbulb visibly went on above Sheppard's head, and he grinned slowly. "Spare parts."
McKay held his hands out in a half-shrug. "Depends on how bad the crash was, and how much is still intact…but there are parts to the Orion that would take us weeks to replace!"
It was Sheppard's turn to lean forward. "So where did you say you got this?"
Further investigation revealed that the artifact had come from PX3-495. The natives of the planet were mainly hunter/gatherers, following the game during the warmer months, and returning to their permanent settlements for the winter. A hurried consultation with Teyla and Ronan, as well as a briefing with Weir, and SGA-1 was soon loaded with potential trade goods and headed through the Gate.
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"The time has come, oh Most Wise. The world is becoming green again, and the moon full. I have read the entrails of the first kill of the Spring. Before the next sun passes we must Sacrifice to appease the Protectors and allow our tribe to remain hunters, rather than hunted." The village shaman was easily recognizable as he addressed the hereditary tribal leader; the beads, feathers, and facial paint was unique to the position.
The village elder rose solemnly to his feet. "It shall be as you say, Most Revered. Gather the people together for the selection."
A commotion outside caught their attention and, somewhat irritated, the Shaman preceded the Chieftain out the doorflap of the pole-lodge. The presence of the two men had an immediate effect on the milling natives; silence descended instantly. A lone, sweating hunter threw himself prostrate on the dirt before their feet, hands outstretched in supplication.
"How now, Norn?" asked the elder solemnly. "What news?"
Without raising his face from the dust, the young man replied, "Visitors, sir. Traders have come through the Great Ring, asking for sacred stones. They wish to barter many things."
The two village leaders exchanged knowing glances. "The Gods provide. Bring them to the village."
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As they were escorted into the settlement by the enthusiastic locals, Ronan couldn't shake a vague since of…unease. Rather than suppress it, he narrowed his eyes and tried to determine the source. He hadn't survived as a Runner all those years without honing his instincts to a fine edge.
The community was typical for a semi-nomadic culture; the village consisted stick-reinforced dwellings covered with animal skins to keep out the weather and keep in the heat, circled about a main hall of a more permanent nature. Once they packed to travel in the summer months, the skins would be taken with them to serve as temporary dwellings on the hunt. The huts were clustered around the more sturdily built central council hall, where the Chief likely resided. Immediately to the side of that structure was a fairly ornately decorated tent, probably that of their 'medicine man'. He snorted to himself, but made no comment. After all, McKay was talking enough for all of them.
The astrophysicist was so engrossed in his Ancient handheld scanner that he failed to notice his own running commentary. "Yes, yes, definitely a power source," he muttered. "Faint…old…but definite." Adjusting the settings slightly, he stopped dead and began turning from side to side in smaller and smaller arcs, until finally facing the Shaman's tent. Looking up, he pointed at a squarish stone-like object that sat prominently before the entrance to the hut. "There. The power readings are coming from that rock."
Sheppard backtracked a few steps to peer at the scanner over Rodney's shoulder. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Last I checked, granite didn't give off power readings." He tapped the screen a few times experimentally.
McKay jerked the scanner out of the Colonel's reach and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Clearly, it isn't granite. Remember, the ship we're looking for crashed thousands of years ago; who knows what Ancient devices look like after they've been rained on for a few millenia?"
Sheppard grinned crookedly. "You mean I shouldn't take it for 'granite'?"
McKay's rejoinder was interrupted by the approach of two men of clear tribal significance. The one in the lead stood ramrod straight despite his apparent age of 60 to 70 years. Unlike the nearly-naked young men of the village, his shoulders were adorned with a flowing cape covered in beads and feathers. He carried a staff that was taller than his own 6-foot frame, but clearly did not need it for support.
The second man walked immediately to the right and slightly behind the first. Shorter and slightly slumped, his face was painted with wild designs in multiple colors, and his unkempt hair was woven with feathers and beads to match. His clothing was a loincloth like the younger hunters, but he also wore a feather collar that hung down from his neck over his shoulders. He too carried a staff, but his was shorter than the Chief's, and had a rattle on its end which he shook threateningly at the locals from time to time.
The Chief spoke first, directing his comments to Sheppard. "We welcome you to the land of Yolda and give thanks to our gods for your timely arrival." At his words the tribesmen all fell to their knees and bowed as one to the visitors.
Sheppard caught Rodney's eye and shrugged slightly; another weird local custom, courtesy of the Pegasus galaxy. Addressing their host, he nodded politely in what he hoped was sufficient respect, and replied, "Thank you. We have traveled far to meet you. We were told that this world is rich in items like this," he held up Ronan's necklace, "and might be willing to trade for them."
The Chief smiled widely, showing numerous broken and missing teeth. "Of course. If you will come this way?" He gestured towards the pole-lodge, then proceeded to enter it ahead of them. Pausing at the door-flap, he turned back momentarily. "It is our custom to leave our weapons outside the council chamber." He pointed towards the adjacent wall where a dozen spears and half-a-dozen bows could be seen leaning against the wood.
Sheppard nodded uncomfortably and swung off his P-90, leaning it next to the spear nearest the entrance. With a jerk of his head, he indicated for the rest of the team to follow suit.
Ronan's intuition was screaming in alarm by this point, and he was extremely reluctant to enter an enclosed space, particularly weaponless. His hunch was reinforced ten-fold when a dozen of the most muscular young men of the tribe immediately fell in behind the group, ready to take their weapons if they refused. Coming to a complete halt he stated simply, "I'll wait out here."
While Sheppard looked ready to force the issue, their host merely nodded. "As you wish. You may join us inside later if you desire." The Chief and shaman went into the lodge, followed by Sheppard, Teyla, and Rodney. The young hunters lined up on either side of the door, backs to the wall, as protection to the occupants inside.
Ronan nodded stiffly to the nearest young man. "Nice day, isn't it?" he grunted, trying to initiate a conversation and discover the source of his discomfort. The tribesman simply stared straight ahead, arms crossed, not acknowledging his presence. Shrugging, he began to wander towards the box that had fascinated Rodney earlier.
None of the guards showed any interest in him as long as he wasn't trying to enter the meeting hall, but he could feel eyes on his back regardless. Turning on his heel, he surveyed the village narrowly. The populace who weren't actively guarding the main hall had gone back to their normal activities. The women, gathered in small clusters and more demurely-attired than the men were tanning skins, while the children, chores apparently finished, were chasing each other raucously between the tents. Interspersed were occasional men sharpening their spears or practicing archery.
Ronan was beginning to feel slightly foolish as he bent over to inspect the slab. Four feet wide by seven feet long, it stood unevenly about three feet above the ground. Closer examination confirmed McKay's theory that it was actually made of extremely weathered metal. Loops of wire protruded from all four corners, and several grooves had been crudely dug lengthwise down the center of the table, collecting together at the lowest point of its slope. Walking around, he noticed a stone trough on the ground next to the confluence of the grooves. He frowned. The metal was particularly discolored on this side, and he ran a finger across its gritty surface. Frowning further, he rubbed the rust-colored powder between his fingers, then brought it to his nose.
His eyes flew open in consternation. BLOOD! The slab suddenly assumed a more ominous meaning, as did the reference to their 'timely arrival'. "That's it," he muttered, hand flying to the pistol on his hip, "We're leaving."
Turning back towards the pole-lodge, he mentally prepared to fight his way in. Fortunately the flap opening and the group exiting forestalled him. His sigh of relief was short-lived as, at a nod from the Shaman, the young hunters began to surround the Atlanteans once more, two seizing Sheppard by the arms as he turned to reach for his weapon against the wall.
"Hey, now!" complained the Colonel, staring pointedly at the restraining hand. "What's going on here?"
All doubt vanished from Dex's mind. Firing his weapon into the air, he shouted, "They intend to use us as human sacrifices!" Pointing his pistol towards the Elder, he strode forward. "Isn't that right?"
The Chieftain nodded in acknowledgment, as if it were obvious. "That is why the Protectors sent you. It is your destiny."
Two guards rushed Dex. Recalling Weir's aversion to killing, he dispatched them manually, only to lose his weapon to a third. In the free-for-all that followed, the Atlanteans took a number of blows before they finally managed to break free and flee.
"You two head that way, we'll head this!" ordered Sheppard, pointing at Dex and Teyla. "That way we double our chances of getting back to the Gate and getting help!"
Ronan and Teyla nodded breathlessly, then took off at a dead run. The Yoldans were hot on their heels within moments, but Ronan and Teyla managed to shake off the hunters long enough to double back and reach the Gate, where Teyla radioed John.
Sheppard and McKay hadn't been as lucky. They weren't as experienced as the Pegasus Galaxy members of the team or their trackers were more adept; either way, they were having trouble losing them. The call from the Athosian came moments after Sheppard began to think they'd temporarily ditched the natives. He was immensely grateful to the sounds of rushing water in the nearby swollen river that he hoped had masked the conversation from searching ears.
Breaking the connection, the LTC muttered, "Now we just have to avoid those headhunters until Weir sends help." He crouched to scramble as low as he could on the steep, muddy bank, checking back from time to time to make certain that Rodney was keeping up. He had a vague notion of following the river upstream towards its mountain run-off origin, possibly into rockier terrain that would hide their tracks. The water rushing past was so loud that he almost didn't hear Rodney's scream of surprise.
Whipping around, he was just in time to witness the scientist disappearing under the churning water. The skid marks down the bank showed where the man had lost his footing and slid into the river. "Damn!" he cursed, diving into the icy watercourse after him. It suddenly occurred to the Colonel that, although they lived in a city completely surrounded by ocean, he had no idea if McKay could swim.
TBC...
AN: This started out as an idea I've been kicking around for a while but not really fleshing out until some members of the SGAHC I dined with at Mediawest said "Write it!", so now I have. My dear husband is beta-ing my Rodney, making sure that I keep him snarky. Let me know what you think!
PS: Does anyone know if Rodney can swim or not? Is it ever actually mentioned in the show?