It was supposed to be an easy mission. In fact, it wasn't even a mission at all. Sheppard took time off to accompany Ronon to Ladeha, where it was rumored that soldiers from Sateda had holed up and were looking to connect with others from their planet. Carter didn't obtain permission from Stargate Command to make it an official mission unless they actually found something.
"So we'll call it a camping trip for now," Sheppard said, slapping Ronon on the shoulder. "You and me, buddy. All alone on an alien planet. What could go wrong?"
Of course, this was Sheppard speaking. Something always went wrong.
The Stargate on Ladeha was located in a hot, dry, desert, surrounded by rocky cliffs and something that Sheppard casually called "hoodoos."
"We have those back on Earth," he said. "But not that big."
The hoodoos towered several stories above them, creating canyons of stone mushrooms with tottering roofs that kept out some of the stifling sun.
"Think we brought enough water?" Sheppard asked, pulling on his shades as they started their trek away from the 'gate.
"Hope so," Ronon replied, shouldering his pack.
They were both armed — because one could never set foot on an alien planet without knowing what you were encountering — but traveling light.
"Contact said they'd be south of the 'gate," Ronon pointed. "I guess there's some caves and maybe they've found a water source."
"How long of a walk?"
Ronon shrugged. "Two days."
Sheppard squinted at the sun. "Looks like we'll have plenty of time to cover some ground before nightfall then."
They set off, moving easily across the sandy, pebbly ground. Neither spoke much after that, and Ronon was happy. He liked spending time with Sheppard because he didn't have to talk to be understood. McKay always had to fill silences with chatter, but Sheppard was easy. He understood Ronon. And he understood silence.
That night when they set up camp, Sheppard said, "Something about this place is strange."
Ronon poked at the fire with a stick. "What do you mean?"
Sheppard motioned to the area around them. "The ground. It's dry now, but it looks like it flooded. Maybe recently. Floods make hoodoos back on Earth. Maybe that happened here."
"Must have been a big flood," Ronon replied.
Sheppard looked up at the shadowy hoodoos around them, his gaze uneasy. "Yeah …"
They set off early the next morning, trying to beat the midday heat. Ronon noted that Sheppard might be correct as he looked at the ground around them. There were ripples of dried mud exposed under the sand, and no cracks like one would expect from truly parched earth. Small scrubby plants had started growing here and there, and there were remnants of dried mud that had been washed up high into cracks in the cliffs and hoodoos around them.
It was still quiet, though. There was very little wildlife, and no birds. An occasional muddy brown lizard dashed behind a rock, but otherwise there was no sign of life. Ronon had been on high alert the first day, but now that he was able to better read the new planet around him, he started to relax. It was barren. No danger here.
Around midday, Sheppard's easy demeanor suddenly changed. Ronon sensed it before he saw it, but Sheppard's gait shifted, and his hand moved to his P90, resting lightly on the handle.
"You hear that?" he said quietly.
Ronon kept pace with Sheppard, realizing that the man was trying to make it look as though nothing had changed but had slowed a bit and lightened his step. And then he heard it. Scattered pebbles falling quietly around them in at least four different locations.
Cursing his lack of attention, Ronon subtly reached for his gun, too. And then all hell broke loose.
All around them, the sand came alive. There were men hiding under the sand — or rather, they looked like men, but they weren't men. Their faces were disfigured and everything looked wrong, but time was slipping by far too fast for Ronon to look closely.
Beside him, Ronon heard a thwack thwack sound. Sheppard staggered, thrown backwards, then dropped bonelessly to the ground, his P90 clattering on the stones at his side.
"Sheppard!" Ronon screamed.
And then the men were on him. They were too close for him to use his gun, so he pulled his machete from his back, chopping and stabbing and swinging. He heard more thwacks and saw something that looked like a foot-long bolt of metal hit the stone behind him, bounce, and fall to the ground. They were shooting something at them.
Ronon grabbed the bolt and stabbed it into a man's leg and pulled. There was a scream, and the man's leg exploded. Showered in blood, Ronon couldn't stop to wonder at what had happened, but he saw that the bolt in his hand had expanded into a wicked set of blades which spiraled out from the tip in a star shape.
Whirling and slashing, Ronon cut down a few more men before the rest retreated into the hoodoos, leaving him panting and shaking from exertion. Everything had happened so fast he didn't have time to get a head count on their attackers, but he guessed maybe a dozen had attacked them.
Dashing over to where Sheppard still lay on the ground, Ronon fell to his knees, seeing four of the bolts of metal in Sheppard's left side. One was in his shoulder, two looked like they'd been stopped by his tac vest, and one was just below the vest above his belt.
"Sheppard?" Ronon reached out and touched his uninjured shoulder and the man did not stir. Ronon realized there was a small pool of blood under his head, and turned Sheppard's head to find the left side of his face covered in blood from a cut near his temple. It looked like he had hit the stone underneath him, knocking him out cold.
"Dammit," Ronon cursed softly, then added some more colorful expletives as he looked up at the hoodoos around them, wondering if they were going to be attacked again. The shadows around him were silent and still, and not even a pebble fell out of place. They were gone. Or they were very good at hiding.
Gently shaking Sheppard, Ronon gave him a minute until he realized that the man wasn't going to wake up. Cursing again, Ronon realized they needed to get to higher ground. The hoodoo valley they were in was wide open to another ambush, and with Sheppard injured and immobile, Ronon would be on his own.
Quickly assessing the area around him, Ronon looked up into the hoodoos and picked out a faint trail. Noting Sheppard's breathing seemed fine, he left the man where he lay and took off, climbing into the cliffs around them. He needed to move quickly before their attackers returned.
It took several minutes, but Ronon was able to find a deep impression between some cliffs higher up that offered shelter. Scrambling back down to Sheppard's unconscious body, he gently hauled the man over his shoulder, making sure to keep the side with the bolts away from any impact, and began the long, hot climb upwards with his burden. He picked up a few of the scattered enemy bolts on the way, thinking they might come in handy later.
Sheppard was completely limp, hanging and swaying and generally making it quite difficult to climb. Ronon was sure he bashed the man's feet and head against a few rocks on the way up and hoped that it wasn't as bad as being impaled.
When he finally made it to the top, Ronon waded deep into the indentation and found that it opened up into a larger cavern that was mostly covered by rock. There were two ways in and out which would make it harder to defend on his own, but it was better than being ambushed down below. A quick survey showed that no one had disturbed the area recently, so he hoped it wasn't a place their attackers would look right away.
Gently laying Sheppard on the ground, Ronon went back to both entrances, setting up a string across both entryways that would trigger a small cascade of pebbles if anyone crossed the threshold. He could only cover one entrance at a time, and if he could get Sheppard conscious, they could have both entrances covered until the man was able to move.
Kneeling at Sheppard's side again, Ronon was suddenly at a loss. He had seen what the bolts had done. If he pulled them out they would injure Sheppard far worse than just impalement, and possibly kill him.
Carefully feeling around the ones imbedded in the tac vest, he realized they hadn't penetrated through. Maybe he could get those out to start with.
"Alright … Experiment time," he muttered. He pulled out one of the bolts he had picked up from his bag. Looking through his things, he found a thick rope and found the indentation in the bolt that showed where the metal springs were. Winding the rope tightly around the springs a few centimeters up and down the shaft, he then thrust the bolt into the ground as deep as he dared, and pulled. He heard a click as the bolt protested the rope, but it didn't open.
"Ok, good," he said to himself. Now for Sheppard.
Wrapping rope around the first bolt in the tac vest, he pulled. There was no sound as the bolt pulled free of the material. The second bolt clicked but didn't open.
"Two down, two to go," he muttered. The bolt just below Sheppard's tac vest was covered in tacky blood, but didn't look like it had gone too deep. It was just above his belt and hip bone, and hopefully hadn't penetrated any major organs as Ronon knew he was incapable of major surgery in this place.
It was trickier to get the rope wrapped around the bolt as it was deeper than the ones in the tac vest. Ronon wrapped the rope as much as he dared, going right up to the bloody wound and grateful that Sheppard wasn't awake. Praying under his breath to whatever gods might hear, Ronon pulled as fast as he dared. The bolt clicked, but didn't open.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ronon pulled out the medical bandages and tape from his bag and pressed firmly on the wound, hoping that it would be enough to keep Sheppard from losing too much blood. Under normal circumstances, he had learned from Beckett and Keller that one should not pull out arrows or knives from what could be serious wounds. Sometimes leaving things in was better as it kept the blood inside. Or something like that. But in this case, Ronon knew that he needed to get the bolts out. If they opened, it was highly likely that Sheppard wouldn't survive. They were little bombs waiting to go off or get triggered enough to open.
Looking at the bolt in Sheppard's shoulder, Ronon grimly realized that he wouldn't be able to get this one out unless he found another way to keep the bolt from being triggered. It was just in too deep. He wouldn't be able to get enough purchase with the rope in order to guarantee the bolt wouldn't open.
Cursing softly again, he moved on. The wound in Sheppard's head was oozing blood, but already seemed to be slowing down. Ronon knew that he needed to preserve what medical equipment they had, so he left the cut. It wasn't life threatening, but definitely made Sheppard look like a ghastly corpse with his face covered in drying blood.
A quick examination didn't reveal any other injuries, so Ronon explored the cavern, making sure that there weren't any entrances that he missed. It would be getting dark soon, and he knew it would get much cooler at night. Sheppard would need warmth.
Author's Note: This is a much shorter fic than the last one I recently released - a bit of gratuitous whump and friendship exploration. This fic is all finished (per usual) so I'll hopefully be releasing chapters quicker unless life gets in the way. Hope you enjoy!
