A/N: Warning! This chapter contains mentions of child molestation, and attempted molestation. Just a heads up.

Ch. 12

Intervention

" You have got to be kidding me!" Rodney snarled. The smoke of his panting breath accumulated to form a white cloud that obscured most of his face. The ragged man with the grime-smeared face had the momentary decency to become a little nervous, but quickly squared his shoulders to take on the defensive.

" Hey, now, don't go be getting vengeful on me. Had I known he was a wanted man, I would have slugged him harder to drop him then dragged him to ya. As it was, I was doin' what any red-blooded Iothian would do – I put that off-worlder in his place. So don't blame me..."

Rodney rolled his eyes then pointed left with a stiff finger. " Just go. Take your useless info and beat it."

The man gave Rodney a look that at any other time would have had the physicist recoiling. Today, Rodney matched that look and had the grimy-man doing the recoiling. Rodney had been pissed from day one. Day one was long gone and pissed was escalating toward fright. Rodney was tired, sore, and occasionally catching himself verging on losing hope. They'd finally managed to scratch up a few leads, with results being monotonous stories about how Sheppard was 'put in his place being an off-worlder and all.' Reporting these leads was enough to keep Caldwell content so long as he remained naïve to just how useless the leads really were. Nothing that involved flat out lying, but remaining vague on all the details was what was keeping this search alive.

It was also keeping Rodney's hopes stoked. The leads took them no where, but at least they confirmed that Sheppard was still out there somewhere. Rodney would take a thousand useless leads just to know that Sheppard was alive. Alive and being systematically abused by the people of this planet.

Bastards. All of them.

Rodney rubbed one arm against the cold. Ronon just stood there – his lordship of stoicism – looking less impassive wearing a scowl on his face. The runner was setting an impressive standard for himself by not even curling his lip in disgust. That had been the fourth guy they'd come across for the past two days that had freely admitted, with out compunction but with a lot of pride, to having done something demeaning and painful to Sheppard. The first man to come up and speak of his encounter with the colonel, Ronon had had to be restrained by Teyla to keep from breaking the man's neck.

Rodney made up his mind and turned to finish the rest of his journey back into the inn, with Ronon following three paces behind.

Everyone was gathered in the larger room, Teyla included sitting on the corner of Rodney's bed.

Rodney ran his hand through his hair and dropped down on the other corner across from Teyla. " Ran into another member of the 'I roughed up Sheppard' fanclub. I'm starting to think it's high time we let Ronon do all the talking."

The Satedan had gone for leaning against the wall rather than sitting. He smirked ferally.

" I don't think even a knock from Ronon is going to jog any further memories any time soon," Lorne replied. " All these people are going to remember is how good it felt to beat up an off-worlder, not where and when they did it. But at least it gives us something to report. What I find odd is that we've been here I don't even know how many days and we've yet to come across any recent sighting of Colonel Sheppard. Either he's damn good at hiding or damn good at keeping ahead of us." Lorne turned his head enough to look at Caul sitting stiffly on the end of his own bed. " Is there a chance he could have been kidnapped again? Maybe retrieved by your buddies for a little payback?"

Caul blinked and gaped nervously for a second. " Uh... possibly. There's no certainty to it – it is a big city – but I wouldn't doubt the chance."

" Any idea where they might be holding up now?" Ronon asked.

Caul shrugged. " Not really. Until the next job, we always bounced around from place to place. The thing is, now that word is spreading of your seeking Colonel Sheppard and that there's a reward involved, you won't have to find them. They'll find you." Caul shifted and held up a finger. " There's a setback to it. Whether they have him or not, it'll just be the same game with them. They'll demand payment first for Sheppard, and you either get him back, they demand more payment, or run."

" We know how the game is played this time around," Ronon said.

Lorne nodded. " And I think those two mules you brought to lug the crates would be real quick about recognizing who we are. They're going to be a problem for us. If we encounter any one of them, we don't hesitate to grab them and have them taken to the Daedalus for holding. If they end up not being worth the effort of capture, at least the interrogations should buy us some time."

Rodney leaned forward to put his arms on his knees so he could clasp his hands together. " Phantom results."

" At least it's buying us time," Lorne said. He stood and headed for the door. " My turn to grab dinner."

Ronon moved to drop onto his own bed where he pulled out his weapon to begin cleaning, which in turn made Caul go a little stiffer. Rodney preoccupied himself by staring at his hands. He was distantly aware of the movement of his bed from Teyla shifting to sit beside him.

" Are you all right, Dr. McKay?"

Rodney furrowed his brow in a semi-scowl. " No, I'm not all right. After another day of hearing about how some gutter trash gave Sheppard a bloody nose do you honestly think I'm doing all right?" He flinched at his own harsh tone and shook his head. " Sorry, I'm... Sorry. It's just... I'm kind of getting beyond pissed here." Rodney threw his hands up to let them drop back onto his lap. " I mean it's like we're chasing a shadow. There he is and then there he goes. He's fifty steps ahead and we're dropping back to a hundred behind. And it's freaky. Don't ask me why, but it all feels freaky. Kind of like walking into a place where you expect a whole bunch of people to be – like a bar or something – and finding it completely empty. He's out there, but he's not. And for all we know all the beatings finally got to him and he's lying in a ditch somewhere..." Rodney refused to finish the sentence let alone the thought. He felt the light weight of a slender-fingered hand on his shoulder.

" I do not think he is," Teyla said. " And I do not say this simply to keep our hopes alive. It is a feeling, and a strong one. We both know Colonel Sheppard is a strong survivor. But more than that... though it is difficult to explain... I believe I would know if something has happened to him, if he were dead. I do not know if it is the part of me that can sense wraith that tells me this, or simply a connection born of our friendship, but it has never proven wrong in the past, for any of you, though sometimes I do not always listen to it. But I am listening now."

Rodney found Teyla's word comforting, both because he found it plausible enough that Teyla could have some sort of connection to Sheppard and the rest of the team, and also because he wanted to believe as it was better than letting his pessimism have the last word in everything. Doom and gloom Rodney gave into doom and gloom because – facing facts – he liked to vent. But hope motivated him, and right now he would take whatever he could to motivate hope.

SGA

John kicked his feet over the solid ground scraping the dirt to alternate with the crunching of his footfalls. The crisp air that had struck his face like a slap on stepping out now caressed his cheeks with frigid fingers. It frosted his breath into curls and clouds matching colors with the drab grave-gray sky. He felt a gaze on his back like a small weight that was more of a comfort than an annoyance. A presence that wouldn't let him feel alone. Maj was watching from somewhere, probably not avidly like a hawk watching prey, but enough to keep John's presence in her awareness – like a parent would a child. John knew the difference like night and day, instilled in him between the hateful eyes of enemies and the loving eyes of his mother. John could have felt awkward about Maj's subtle protectiveness, even insulted – he wasn't a child, even if he was just a kid in her older eyes – but he didn't. He didn't mind it, and on this alien world, light-years from home and familiarity, he rather appreciated it.

Seriously, how often did one come upon a sense of safety on an otherwise hostile world? Maj's kindness he wrapped around himself like a blanket, holding in the sanity, pooling his tolerance that enabled him to have patience for the time when Maj's pass arrived and they could head back to the gate. And he liked Maj, enjoyed her wit and her ways. If one had to be stranded on some distant world, then this was the way to do it - with someone who had your back.

But it hurt that he couldn't figure a way to repay her. Maybe invite her to Atlantis, show her around...

The air nipped at John's bare finger-tips and he flexed them, getting the blood to flow and remove the stiffness. He headed to the pile of un-chopped wood still in the wagon, and hefted up the tallest, thickest log in the bunch. He set it on the stump, then stepped back wrapping his fingers around the ornate handle of the bladed sticks. He slid the sticks from his belt smoothly and gave both a twirl. He then positioned his feet as Teyla had taught him in the proper fighting stance with the sticks loose at his sides.

With a quick recall of the moves, John began the dance. He spun, slashing, light flashing off the silver blade like white lightening, and the top of the wood flew off from a clean slice that startled John. John looked at the keen edge of the blade, then at the wobbling wood that remained standing, and whistled.

" Damn. That's freakin' cool." He resumed the motions that were slightly off and a little rigid from ill-used muscles and lingering weakness. But that didn't spare the wood from getting chipped, shredded, and sliced into wood-chips. The larger chunks he tossed up to swipe at them, cutting them clean in two.

John tired quicker – too quick as far as he was concerned – than what he was used to when sparring with Teyla. His breath was heavy, sweat soaked him, and his muscles twitched with minute tremors. But he didn't stop, he simply reduced his amount of exertion, even removed the heavy coat to decrease the excess body heat. He was back to wearing his now mended black, long-sleeved shirt, with another long-sleeved shirt over that with a collar that hung low on his chest. He took another piece of wood and set it on the stump. He moved through the motions methodically, rehearsing the moves minus inflicting damage to the wood.

The air was sharper surrounding his sweat-drenched body, and he liked it, liked the way it stung his lungs and made his blood run fast. He even liked the dull ache pulsing through his ribs. It was a bombardment of sensation that gave him something to fight, dredging up more surges of adrenaline to keep the trembling at a minimum. Carson would say he was probably overtaxing himself, yet John didn't care. Motion was also good in maintaining the sanity. John would admit to being a bit of a control freak, and when situations were beyond his control, taking his frustration out on punching bags, opponent's sticks, and helpless pieces of wood helped him find a modicum of control.

In his current situation, being temporarily cut off from Atlantis was only half the problem. His recovering body made up the other half. His technique wasn't what it used to be, but at least he was remedying that.

John attempted another clean swipe through the wood, but his exhausted arm only got the blade half-way through. John yanked the blade, but the blade refused to relent. With a frown of annoyance, John set the wood on the ground, his foot on the wood, and pulled. The blade jerked free and John stumbled a step back.

" And the wood fights back."

John looked up and over his right shoulder to see Mris sauntering toward him, carrying a basket under one arm and supported against her hip. John gave her a neutral nod of greeting then returned the wood to the stump.

" I'm starting to suspect," she said, moving around to be in his peripheral vision, " that you were telling the truth when you said you were a soldier."

" Am," John said, stepping back to restart the moves, " am a soldier."

Mris pursed her lips and nodded. " If you say so."

John glanced her way to flash her a quick and bitter smile. " Do want something or you just hard up for pointless conversation?"

Mris shrugged and sidled up a little closer while at the same time maintaining a safe distance from the blades. Her casual smile remained fixed to her face. " I'm curious by nature. And I have discovered – by nature – that most folk tend to be liars."

John's arm paused in mid-air right before the down-swing. He gave Mris an incredulous look. " Gee, pessimistic much?" He shook his head and finished the move. " But I won't argue with you on that one. And since I don't have much in the way of proof that would change your mind, you can believe what you want. It's not as though it's a life or death situation anyways. Besides," John grinned crookedly, " I prefer it when people underestimate me."

" I didn't say I underestimate you," Mris said, " I just don't trust you."

John shifted into a better stance, and twitched his head. " Well at least you're honest. Seriously, you need something?" He fell back into rhythm. " Because if you do, I'm not the one you want to be talking to."

" Actually, that would depend on what it is I want."

John stepped back and wiped his moist brow with his sleeve. Sweat pulled the cold air through his clothes, and he shivered. " No, it wouldn't. You're not the only one with trust issues." He raised his arm for a swing, found it to be trembling from fatigue, so dropped it at his side. His breath streamed out fog on each heavy exhale. A drop of sweat tickled down his back, aggravating his nerves that were already on edge due to Mris' presence. She was up to something. In fact, she was of the type that was forever up to something. And rather than trying to figure out what that 'something' was, it was better just to keep snubbing her until she finally got it through her head that she wasn't going to get any verbal – and beyond – kicks from him.

" So I ask again," he said. " Need something?"

Mris tilted her head to one side as though regarding something about him that would determine the outcome of her answer. It gave John the impression that she was studying him, and not in that sizing-up kind of way. This wasn't a casual scrutiny, or an appraisal. Her gaze pierced deeper, dissecting him, making mental inventory of every movement down to the smallest twitch of a facial muscle. John knew when he was being visually picked apart. Mris was subtle about it, but she couldn't hide the concentration being betrayed by her eyes.

After a minute of silence, Mris' eyes finally returned to John's face. " I need nothing." She raised one shoulder and let it drop. " I just thought that – perhaps – an opportunity to build trust should be presented."

" You mean get to know one another."

Mris inclined her head. " Precisely. I'm not like most folk here. I like to give the new people a chance, allow them to feel welcome."

I bet, John thought, but kept his mouth shut. He had the sudden suspicion that Mris wasn't the only one trying to get to know John. He lifted his arm with the intent of resuming the moves, but could barely hold the blade so lowered it back down.

" What about Jorsek?" he asked, flexing his wrist.

" What about him?" Mris asked.

" He interested in getting to know me too? Call me paranoid but I have this sneaking suspicion that he might have sent you."

Mris smirked. " I assure you, Mr. Sheppard, I sent myself."

John looked over at her, and gave her a smirk in return. " But people are liars by nature, remember?"

John saw it then. A momentary flicker like a candle being snuffed. It was too fast to determine if it had been anger or unease, but it had been something, a hairline crack in the mask with more betrayal than a written and signed confession. John now knew what Mris was up to. Although now that he was on to her, he doubted she would let up any time soon. This was a reconnaissance mission, and Mris didn't seem the type to give up, period.

Too bad for her, John didn't give up either. He was stranded on an alien world, surrounded by potential hostiles. His guard was up mountain high and was going to stay up until he finally left this rock.

Mris took a deep breath in preparation to say something. Movement within the woods caught John's eye, and he snapped his head up, his arm along with it to halt Mris' future words. John squinted into the murk of the forest and a shadow-cloaked form hovering before the entrance to the knacker shed. The form seemed to be struggling with something, taking its sweet time to enter until it finally vanished through the door. Curiosity moved John forward, caution compelled him to go slow. He approached the shed with its adornments of animal heads and hides, and pressed his ear to a chink between two slats of the wall. He heard heavy breathing, and low, whispering mumbles.

" I don't want to be here!" came a second voice, a child's voice, six, maybe seven years old. The mumbling, adult male voice snarled something, and the child whined out an "ow, stop it!" John's breath caught in his throat. He pulled away from the wall, shoved the blades into his belt, and stalked around the shed to burst through the entrance.

A man a couple years older than John snapped straight and wide-eyed as a deer caught in the headlights. The man's hair was cut short, almost shaved, and receding far back from the forehead. One side of his round face was pockmarked by scars from his temple to jaw, and his right eye was less blue and more sludgey gray as though damaged.

In front of the man, sprawled on a pile of old skins, was a small girl with braided dark brown to be almost black hair under a scarf, dressed in a faded yellow skirt and fur-lined cream colored coat. The coat was open, and the lace-lined collar of her white button blouse was torn.

Cold shock erupted into white-hot rage that got John's hands moving without him to the handles of the bladed sticks. He pulled them out on stepping into the shed, metal hissing against his belt. He towered over the man, keeping his arms loose at his sides but the blades tight in his grip, and glaring bullets. The man rose and stepped back, so John stepped forward.

" What the hell do you think you're doing?" John said, cold and venomous. The man's throat bobbed in a convulsive swallow, and he took another step back until he met the wall. He glanced around wildly for an escape route until his eyes settled on something to the man's right. He moved fast leaning to the side and snatching up a pair of antlers that he hurled at John. John ducked the horns that glanced off his shoulder, tearing through both shirts to slice the skin of his shoulder blade. The man took the opportunity to bolt, shoving John into the wall and out of the way.

John pushed off from the wall and stepped outside, but the man had gone beyond sight for John to give chase. It didn't matter in the long run. The man's face wasn't the kind John would be forgetting any time soon. He went back into the shed, sliding the blades into his belt, then crouching in front of the little girl adjusting her coat back around her small form. John looked her over, but saw no visible cuts or bruises.

" You all right?" he asked.

The girl nodded as she buttoned up her coat. " Yeah, I am. Mr. Leyn kept trying to tear my shirt, so I kicked him a lot. That's what Dev said I should do if Mr. Leyn tried to take me into some dark place. He said I needed to kick him a lot. Dev's my brother. Mr. Leyn almost got him, but Dev kicked him a lot so got away." The girl smoothed out her coat, unperturbed and seemingly more concerned making certain the coat was aligned right. " Mr. Leyn isn't very bright, and panics a lot. I used to be good at staying away from him, but he snuck up on me when I went to go feed the Klin." the girl pushed herself back to her feet, sliding a bit on the mound of fur. John also rose and held out his hand, which she took without compunction and pulled herself up to step carefully from the pile. She wiped her hands off on the back of her coat, then dusted off her skirt.

John furrowed his brow thoughtfully. " This Mr. Leyn... Does he do this kind of... uh... stuff a lot? Take kids I mean?"

The girl nodded. " That's what Dev says, and Jany, and Niel. They say he calls it a game, but no one likes it. I'm not exactly sure what it is Mr. Leyn does, but it can't be good if your clothes get ripped. Dev agrees." The girl pulled the collar of her coat out enough to look into it, and stuck out her bottom lip in consternation. " Mum's not going to like this. This is my new shirt."

Finally, she looked up at John to regard him with large, brown, fearless eyes. She stuck out her small mittened hand, smiling. " Thank you for chasing him off."

John took her hand, giving it a brief, gentle squeeze. " It's what I do... Chase the bad guys off, I mean."

The girl dropped her hand and just stared at John, but not in the vacant way of a child confronted by an interesting stranger. This girl had no qualms concerning eye contact, or staring though she had to practically bend her neck in half just to look up at him.

She blinked. " You're tall."

John grinned, and positioned his hand to hover above the girl's head. " Maybe you're just short." He dropped his hand back to his side. " What's your name?"

" Kari. What's yours?"

" John. John Sheppard."

Kari fell into another stint of momentary, silent scrutiny. " I've never seen you before. Are you new?"

John shoved his hands into his pockets. " Pretty much. Maj brought me here. Do you know Maj?"

Kari beamed and nodded enthusiastically. " Uh-huh! She's the one who travels to other worlds. She always brings back neat stuff, like this candy that's really hard on the outside but kind of chewy inside, and her iaret is really cute and doesn't bite..."

" Wanna go see her?" John jumped in ending the happy tirade. Kari nodded again, so John jerked his head in the direction of the door. " Come on. We'll go wait in her house until we can get your parents to come."

Kari took John's hand without hesitation as they both headed out from the shed. John's gaze went straight to the area around the stump, but Mris was no where to be seen. He highly doubted she'd gone skipping off to bring back the local authorities.

John's diminishing adrenaline rush was taking his body heat with it, and he started shivering continually when a cold wind buffeted him.

" What world are you from?" Kari asked. " Is it pretty?"

John smiled, his teeth chattering. " B-beautiful. The city I live in is surrounded by the ocean."

" Really!" Kari shrilled. " That would be soooo neat living in a city surrounded by water. You could go swimming all the time and fishing and I heard there's really big animals that live under the water. Have you seen any big animals? My brother told me about the ocean, and he knows about it because he reads better than me..." Kari chatted on about creatures as big as houses and as small as her pinky-nail.

Maj stepped out the door onto the small porch and crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. " I let you out for a moment and here you are, already up to mischief, stealing away the children of our fair town."

Kari stiffened and bristled at this, stamping her booted foot. " He didn't steal me! Mr. Leyn stole me. Mr. Sheppard's bringing me back."

Maj smiled blithely at her. " Then I apologize. Come inside the both of you before you get frozen to the spot."

Maj led the way inside. Stepping across the threshold, warm air slammed into John, melting the cold off is skin but slow about penetrating to his core. Kari released John's hand to scurry over to the table and plop herself into a chair. John was more tentative about it, easing down into the seat adjacent to the small girl. Kari shifted from sitting to kneeling on the seat in order to be a little higher. She launched into her tale about how Mr. Leyn had taken her, and how John had rescued her as Maj pulled a bottle of a cream-colored liquid like off-white milk and poured it into a pot. She set the pot to boil on the stove-top, then vanished into the living room, returning with two blankets. One she set around Kari, and the other she was about to put on John's back when she paused, then immediately set the blanket on the chair next to John.

" Seems your little adventure hasn't left you unscathed," she said. She shifted her bustling about to gathering the needed mashed herbs, cloth, and heated water to clean the wound on John's shoulder blade. Kari's story ended, and she became enthralled in Maj's ministrations. Maj pulled John's two shirts up to his shoulder and had him hold it there as she cleaned the wound and applied the poultice. John winced only once during the cleaning.

Maj had John keep the shirt raised long enough to allow the poultice to dry. She shifted gears back to the now warmed milky liquid, adding various sweet smelling spices, one of which reminded John of nutmeg. The off-white liquid became a more cinnamon color, and Maj poured it into two mugs. She brought the mugs to John and Kali.

" Thank you miss Maj," Kali said, pulling her mug to her. She bombarded John with questions concerning his city, if it was big, if there were lots of people, and if he'd seen any of the creatures that lived in the ocean.

" You have a lot of scars," she said, then took a big gulp from her mug, holding the liquid in her mouth, looking like a squirrel with jowls stuffed with nuts, until she finally swallowed. " Are you a soldier?"

John smiled. " That I am." He took a sip of the milk that had a nutty, pleasant flavor to it, neither too strong or too weak.

" You looked like a soldier when you chased Mr. Leyn away."

John chuckled before taking another sip. " Glad someone believes me about that aspect of my life."

Maj sat at the table with her own mug in hand. " And why would that not be believed? You can lower your shirt now."

John adjusted his shirt one handed around his back. Maj handed him the blanket and he swung it around his shoulders. " I'm assuming you noticed that Mris girl hanging around?"

Maj drank from her mug, narrowing her eyes. " I did."

" Well, she seems determined to argue the fact with me."

" Don't give her the satisfaction," Maj said.

" I'm trying."

Maj lowered her mug back to the table and leaned in some. " Seriously, John, you need to be careful of Mris. She may be open to the affections of everyone, but it's Jorsek's arm she likes to hang from the most. You can't trust either of those two where you're concerned. You're a stranger here, not just to this village but this world as well. He'll try to find fault with every step you take and with every blink of your eyes. As an enforcer, the man takes off-worlder prejudices quite seriously. He's as paranoid as the rest but tends to go about it differently, in a way that you wouldn't think he was paranoid, just cruel." Maj sat back and sighed. " His father used to fill his head with nonsense concerning off-worlders invading our planet to take it from us. He's developed a bit of an over zealous, patriotic nature in him. Makes him think himself justified in what he does to folk in the name of security. He's a dangerous one, John, which is why I prefer it that you don't go out much. The less interaction you have with the man, the better."

John took another sip of his own drink. The warmth of the liquid oozed from his esophagus and stomach to melt the cold within him. " Hey, I'm all for avoiding the local creeps." John shook his head. " There's one on every freakin' planet."

Kari scrunched up her nose. " What's 'freakin' mean?"

John chuckled softly and shook his head. " Nothing, actually. It's just a word I tend to say when I get upset about something."

" Why don't I go contact your parents, dear," Maj said, rising. She headed from the kitchen to go upstairs to her room where the Ioth equivalent of a telephone was kept. Maj had showed it to John, familiarizing him to how it worked in case of emergencies and all that. The thing was like a CB radio but with a listening end so that people didn't have to say 'over' each time. Like a telephone, Iothian numbers were used to make the right connection.

Kari shifted around in her seat like a typical, squirmy kid of her years, quietly humming a little tune. " Have you seen the Iarets in the canyon yet?" she asked in her high-toned little voice. " It's really neat when you toss meat to them, and they dive out of the air," Kari raised her hand, fingers spread, above her head then dropped it down fast toward the table. " Whoosh! Like that, and grab it out of the air before it even falls. Then when you go down into the ravine, they won't attack you."

" Sounds neat," John said.

" Uh-huh. My dad hunts, and he always goes up to the cliffs to get rid of what's left, and gives us some meat to throw to the iarets. We're going tomorrow, so you could go with us if you want. My dad hasn't let us come a lot 'cause he can't get a lot of help, and get's worried 'cause of all the people disappearing, so doesn't like us going up to the cliffs without someone. And mum can't come 'cause of my baby brother who was born last month. But if you went, my dad might let us go to the cliffs."

It sounded fascinating enough, and if one had no choice but to hang around an alien world for a while, then one might as well take the opportunity to see the sights.

" How far away is it?" John asked.

" Not far. Just up the road."

John sucked in a breath through his teeth. " I'm gonna need something more... precise than that. Does it take most of the day? Half of the day?"

Kari shook her head. " No. Not even close to midday when we get there. Sometimes we take a meal if we want to stay a while, but we're never gone for long."

John nodded, thinking on it further. He supposed if he could hack wood to bits and still have energy enough to spook off a pedophile, he could take a walk to these cliffs. But he would wait to see what Maj had to say. Kids tended to either over or under exaggerate, and with John's current strength not up to par, the difference in a kilometer here or there could make all the difference.

Maj came down the stairs before John had a choice to voice his desire to wait before deciding.

" Your brother'll be coming for you, Kari dear." She said.

" Hey Maj," John said. " How far is it to these Iaret cliffs?"

" I asked Mr. Sheppard if he'd like to come when dad takes the dead animal bodies out," said Kari.

Maj seemed to perk at this. " Not a bad idea, Kari. I think Mr. Sheppard might like going to the cliffs."

John gave Maj a questioning look. " Um... You sure?"

Maj nodded as she headed to the stove to deal with the left over milk. " Quite. You won't be alone, you'll be armed, and most of the disappearances have been occurring on the north side of the town. Mr. Arvlan would also appreciate the company. Since the vanishings began, few have been willing to venture with him to dispose of the beast carcasses. It's mostly just him and his brother pulling the sledge. He could use an extra set of eyes. And he always likes a reason to bring the children. A good man, Mr. Arvlan. Not one for making confrontation, mostly since he tends to be a bit timid. The exercise would do you good, put a little more color back into your skin."

Sounded like good enough reasons for John. He hated being idle, and though it wasn't exactly helping Maj out, it was still helping in one form or another.

" All right then," he said. " I'll go."

Kari bolted out of her chair and up to John to throw her arms around his neck. " Thank you Mr. Sheppard!" Then she bolted to the door when they heard a knock. Maj didn't have a chance to answer it. Kari pulled it open then rushed outside, closing it behind her, her words drifting to them before the door was completely shut.

" Dev, guess what...!"

Maj shook her head with a small chuckle. She carried the saucepan to the metal basin of the sink. " Another day that passes is another day I'm glad I saved you. You did a good thing helping Kari like that."

John wrapped his hands around the still warm mug. " It was kind of a given. That guy was gonna..." Sheppard couldn't say it. The very thought made his stomach knot up. " She's feakin' six years old. A baby. Who the hell tries to do that to a baby and gets away with it?" John cocked his eyes up at Maj. " He won't get away with it, right? I mean, Kari's dad'll be pretty pissed..."

Maj didn't say anything as she switched on the water and proceeded to clean the pan. John narrowed his eyes.

" Maj?"

" Mr. Arvlan will be angry," Maj said. " He will take his complaints to the council..."

John's stomach knotted tighter. " But? Ah hell, don't tell me they'll dismiss it."

Maj turned and leaned back against the sink with both hands gripping the rim. " No, they won't dismiss it, not right off. They'll look into it, ask Kari questions. Knowing Kari, she tell them everything, including how you saved her. Then they'll come and question you. But since you didn't actually see Mr. Leyn do anything to Kari except hold her down..." Maj shook her head. " They might incarcerate Mr. Leyn for a time. And I stress might. It all depends on whether or not he manages to convince others to believe his side of the story. Gather allies as it were. When it comes to matters of crime, you might say that a bit of a war ensues. It becomes less of a matter of law and proof, and more of a matter of persuasion. And Mr. Leyn is quite clever about getting others to take his side. When a parent comes to complain of what Leyn has done to their child, Leyn will whine and hide behind village prejudices against those from the city. He'll say he's being falsely accused because he is from the capital, that these parents are looking for any means by which to throw him out. If that doesn't work – and in truth it hasn't – then he goes for a secondary means... fear."

John shifted in his seat, sitting straighter. " Fear?"

" Intimidation. Frighten the children he abused, frighten the parents, even frighten the weakest willed people of the village to become false witnesses. My guess is that he uses bribery of some sort to get several of the enforcers on his side. And he's not the only one, John. Since the city has been forcing its citizens out into the wilds villages, things have been gradually decreasing in terms of morals. If a man is clever enough, he can get away with quite a bit, and never get punished for it. When one comes to rely on lecherous cunning as a means of survival, they tend to stick with what works. Most of these people forced upon us are criminals, John." Maj's voice had taken on a tone of distress. " Criminals, with no proof against them. So rather than deal with them in the city, they are dumped on us. And the closer a village is to the city, the more of these criminals that are sent our way."

" And there's nothing you can do about it?"

Maj snorted. " There would be if the council weren't such bloodless cowards. In my younger years, the head of the council then had been a man named Koryek. And let me tell you, he wasn't a man to cross. He put the city-sent in there place, and upheld the laws with a strong fist. Then someone ups and kills him – in his own home, while he slept – and we haven't had a brave soul since to continue what he was doing. I tell you, it's as though once these people get beyond the city, they actually believe they are free to do whatever they wish." Maj's eyes became distant as she stared at a point beyond John. " Perhaps they are right."

Maj turned back to the sink to finish cleaning. The knot in John's stomach became a clenching pretzel, leaving him no more appetite to finish the rest of the milk. Which was just as well. It had finally gone cold.

SGA

A/N: I may have to tone down the updates or else I'll end up catching up to myself, so don't be surprised if they start coming every other day until I'm finished. I was having some trouble getting one of the chapters written. Couldn't figure out how to end it, and it's set me back some.