Sheppard and Ronon walked slowly through the town. Weak streetlamps revealed little movement by the locals, and that was just to see them hurry to their destinations. The few they saw barely acknowledged the strangers' existence. Puffs of vapor marked their breaths as they passed through the lamplight.
A patrol of four constables approached them. One of them jerked his head towards the buildings. "You should be off the street."
"Can you point out Rolth's to us, Officer?" Sheppard asked, looking around.
The guard pointed to a modest, two-story building. "I suggest you don't loiter out here."
"Thanks." Sheppard nodded as he and Ronon turned and towards it.
"These people are scared." Ronon observed as the patrol continued on its way.
Sheppard said dryly. "With both rebels and repressive landowners making their lives miserable, I don't wonder why."
"Yeah."
The Colonel spoke softly as they neared the tavern. "Let's get something to eat."
Rolth's was the only place around that had more than minimal light coming from the windows. It wasn't well lit by any standard, but it was brighter than the other buildings on the street. Inside, the reception was one of contained curiosity mixed with suspicion. There were about a dozen patrons seated in groups around a few tables near the substantial fireplace and three men at a ten foot long bar.
The innkeeper behind the bar straightened up from a conversation with two men. He looked Sheppard and Ronon over with a cautious eye then nodded an acceptance. They sat at a table near the end of the bar and, within seconds, a woman put large mugs of beer in front of them. She could have been anywhere from fifteen to thirty years old. Like so many people Sheppard had seen in Pegasus, lives of hard work and the continual threat of the Wraith aged them early. The need to rebuild every few generations was far from easy, even if your generation escaped culling.
"Somethin' to eat, gentlemen?" She asked in a light voice. She was plain, but had lively eyes that suggested a good nature. They were also full of curiosity. "We got stew or roast bird and root vegetables. I made them this day."
"Sounds good. I'll take the roast, please." Sheppard raised an eyebrow at Ronon.
"Both." He swallowed half of the beer.
She hesitated. "Don't mean to disrespect you, Sir, but you're strangers and I need to see coin."
"Of course. Do you accept these?" Sheppard pulled a dozen coins of varying sizes and metals out of his pocket. The off-world teams had been able to collect a tidy sum of money on their excursions through the Gate. They discovered many planets accepted currency from other planets as part of the trading process. She seemed to be satisfied and took two from his hand.
The Colonel sniffed his beer as Ronon drained the rest of his. He carefully sipped and found it a little on the sweet side, but palatable. They sat quietly until the food and a refill for Ronon arrived. The conversations around them were centered on family and work, but stilted in the presence of the strangers.
Ronon took his cue from Sheppard, but it was not much of a stretch. They were both tired from the mission they had returned from that afternoon. Three days of surveying a large system of cave dwellings on an abandoned planet left them with the appearance of men wandering from place to place, trying to find family and friends. They had a good appetite and ate with relish, but their body language conveyed the weariness they felt.
Ronon sopped up the last of the gravy with dense, crusty bread and pushed away the second plate. He picked up the beer mug, drank the last few swallows then turned to the innkeeper and held it up. A few seconds later, the young woman walked over with a jug. She filled his mug then turned to Sheppard.
"No, thank you." He shook his head and smiled at her.
She checked to see what the man behind the bar was doing. When she saw he was distracted, she looked back at them. "You two came through the Ring of the Ancestors, didn't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am. We're from Endor. Our planet was culled by the Wraith a few months ago. We know some of our people escaped and we're trying to find them. Have you heard of anyone called Thelma or Louise?"
"Happenin' more and more." She shook her head slowly, sympathy in her voice. "Sorry. Never heard those names or of your planet. Don't know that we've had too many folk come through the Ring of the Ancestors in recent times that have stayed. Mostly we get only them that come to trade, but you can ask around."
The Colonel shrugged. "Thanks. Not very many people have heard of Endor."
"How did you escape?" She glanced at the barkeeper again. She was the most openly curious of anyone so far.
Ronan looked at Sheppard. "We were off-world."
"Yeah. We were on a week-long trading expedition. By the time we got back, almost everyone was gone and there was little left of our village and farms. A few stayed behind in case any of our people returned." Sheppard nodded towards Ronon. "Chewie and I have been looking ever since."
"You must be needing a place to sleep. We got but one room to rent."
"That's fine. We're grateful not to be sleeping on the ground again."
"How long do you reckon on staying?"
"Not long. A day or two." Sheppard scratched the stubble on his cheek.
The woman's face clouded briefly and she bit her lip. Sheppard felt she wanted to say something, but didn't want to push her. Instead, he pulled out more money and offered it to her.
"How much do we owe you for the room?"
"Thank you, Sir. This'll get your morning and mid-day meals, too." She took four coins and pointed to the stairs on the other side of the bar. "Go to the top of the stairs. It's the door on the right. It faces the street, but it is quiet."
Sheppard smiled warmly. "I don't think anything could keep us awake tonight."
"Wash room's down that hallway, other side of the bar. I'll put towels out for you." She set the jug on the table and gathered the plates. When she reached for the jug again, Ronon put his hand on it.
"We're obliged." Ronon said.
The woman nodded and began to turn. She stopped and looked from Sheppard to Ronon and back. "The key's in the lock. Use it."
"Verna!" The barkeeper frowned at them. "No time to stand around and talk."
"Wasn't just talking, Father. These men are here to look for lost family. They wanted a room." She hurried over to give him the money. "All paid up for tonight."
"Fair enough." He said and nodded in their direction. "You are welcome here."
"Thank you. We appreciate your hospitality." Sheppard gave her a lopsided grin.
The woman glanced back at them before she disappeared through a door.
----------
There were two narrow beds and not much else in the small room. A solitary chair and a tiny table were the only other furniture. The beds were covered with faded but substantial quilts. Ronon had frowned at the length of the beds when they first entered. Even Sheppard's lanky frame was too long for them. The Colonel chuckled as he caught his friend's expression in the light from the candle on the table.
They stood at the darkened window after they extinguished the candle's flame. They could still hear some movement below, but even that was subsiding as the last of the patrons left and the innkeeper and his daughter closed up for the night. Soon after the front door thudded for the last time, they heard a nearby bell toll nine times. All was quiet.
The two men each leaned against one side of the window, watching from the edges of the frayed curtain covering it. From the angles, they could see the street for a good distance as well as much of the square.
"It's too early to go out yet. I want to make sure everything is good and quiet before we go sneaking around. Get some sleep." The Colonel said after an hour. When Ronon didn't move, he leaned forward a little. "Two hours each. Go."
Sheppard was barely able to suppress a laugh when his friend laid on the bed and his boots hung off the end as he straightened out on it. After trying to settle for a minute, Ronon turned on one side, facing the door. His weapon was under his hand. He was accustomed to sleeping with it in his hand as a precaution. It had taken some time for him to stop doing so in Atlantis, but he continued the practice on every mission that kept them away from the City.
The Colonel stood at the window and watched the neighborhood go to sleep. Lights coming from the windows around them went out one by one. The only foot traffic he saw were units of four men every thirty minutes or so. They kept to the middle of the narrow street, but peered into the shadows cast by the few weak lamplights. He wondered whether the uneasiness in the constabulary was caused more from the kidnappings or was a normal state of affairs.
The early contact with this planet revealed that it had been several generations since the last culling. The Caldean system was near the end of one of the spiral arms that made up the Pegasus Galaxy. It was not a convenient place for the Wraith to visit, so the inhabitants were left in relative peace for longer periods of time than many, but they were not immune to attack.
Sheppard stretched and glanced back towards the bed. Ronon hadn't moved since he lay down. Just as he decided to wake his friend, the soft crunch of footsteps made Sheppard turn back to the window. It took him a second to catch the movement in the black shadows. Three figures made every effort to remain hidden as they worked their way to the corner and turned down an alleyway.
"Ronon." The Colonel hissed with urgency as he nudged the Satedan's boot. "Come on."
"What's wrong?" Ronon quickly stood, weapon in hand.
"Three people sneaking about in the shadows. Looks like they just might be up to something." Sheppard walked quietly to the door and unlocked it.
The click of the lock was barely audible, but they froze for fear it was heard by the residents of the inn. After listening for a moment, they opened the door, stepped out and relocked it. They moved down the stairs, keeping as close to the wall as possible to avoid causing the old wood to creak. Seconds later, they were in the street, quickly trotting to the corner and around it.
They quietly searched for the figures Sheppard observed from the window. The streets further from the square were a rabbit warren of alleyways and narrow lanes. They paused frequently to listen for footsteps or voices, but heard nothing and saw no-one. Eventually, they gave up the search and turned to checking for possible locations of the hostages. There would have to be lookouts and guards, and maybe they would get lucky and spot one.
----------
McKay paced back and forth in the Gate operations area. Lorne leaned against one of the consoles, watching him make tight turns in the narrow space, then suddenly stop.
"Colonel, I don't think you understand. The head of the Caldean security was very worried about what these people might do. They specifically said that any interference from us would result in Elizabeth and Teyla getting killed."
Caldwell could be heard over the speakers. "I heard you, Dr. McKay. What kind of reaction do you think Col. Sheppard and Ronon got when they Gated in?"
"They'd been off-world for three days and Sheppard was in civilian clothing. No one would ever mistake them for military, much less from Atlantis, believe me. That's why Sheppard insisted only the two of them go." McKay began to pace again.
Lorne added, "Sir, Col. Sheppard and Ronon left everything behind that could identify them."
"Well, we can at least let them know we're in orbit and can beam them out if necessary." The disembodied voice persisted.
McKay stopped and stared at Lorne. "Uh, no. When the Major said everything, he meant everything. They left their radios and IDCs here, too. We think Elizabeth and Teyla probably had theirs confiscated when they were taken hostage so there is no way to contact them."
The signal went dead for a few seconds. Caldwell's voice was tight when he spoke again. "Understood, but the Daedalus is going there anyway. They may be able to recover Dr. Weir's radio. If nothing else, we can lock onto their subcutaneous transmitters. We'll contact you when we arrive. Daedalus out."
McKay was less than hopeful. "Good luck."
----------
By the time they returned to the inn, both men were chilled to the bone. The winter on this planet was mild compared to some, but sneaking around for a couple of hours in the middle of the night did not generate enough internal heat to keep out the cold night air. The only heat at the inn came from the fireplace in the bar and a wood-burning stove in the kitchen. Precious little of that permeated to the guest room upstairs.
Even with the heavy coat he wore, Sheppard's teeth were chattering when they entered. The fireplace held glowing remnants of the previous evening's fire. He quietly pulled a chair closer and sat in front of it. He used a piece of kindling to expose the hottest embers then laid a couple of pieces of kindling onto the glowing pile. Once flames were visible, Ronon carefully added more wood. They were quickly rewarded with a decent fire.
They sat in silence for a while, leaning forward with elbows on knees, and hands extended to warm them. After a few minutes, Sheppard rested his chin on both hands and closed his eyes. Just as he began to enter that state between wakefulness and sleep, when dreams begin to form, he felt Ronon tense. A moment later he heard the noise that caused it, but didn't move. He was relieved when the Satedan remained still.
"What are you doing here?" The innkeeper's voice was both wary and menacing. The man was burly and appeared as if he could easily hold his own in a fight.
Sheppard straightened and looked over at him but it was Ronon who stood up and answered.
"Couldn't sleep." In an uncharacteristic moment that surprised even Sheppard, Ronon put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll get them back."
The innkeeper came closer, his attitude only slightly less suspicious. The whole appearance of these strangers was one of being on a long, hard road. "Verna said you were searching for kinfolk. You thought they mighta come here?"
"The Wraith attacked our town four months ago. His wife was killed. We think my wife and his sister escaped." Sheppard glanced at Ronon. "We have found some of our people, but most scattered soon after they left Endor. Few places can support many extra mouths."
"There is truth in that." The Caldean pulled up a chair and sat down. He had the air of someone wanting to trust, but not too sure if he should. "We've had a few folk come through the Ring of the Ancestors last couple of seasons, but I don't recall hearing mention of this Endor. Most are just visitors, coming to trade. They come with their wares then go home with ours."
"Thanks." Sheppard let his shoulders slump.
The inn keeper relaxed. "Name's Dukon. Yours?"
Sheppard half smiled, relieved the man seemed to accept them. "This is Chewie and I'm Han. Thank you for letting us stay."
"It would not be right to turn away strangers in need." Dukon looked at the fire. "My own wife died when Verna was but a child. She welcomed all that crossed our threshold."
"I'm sorry." Sheppard appreciated the openness of this man. "It must have been very difficult for you and your daughter."
Dukon nodded sadly then smiled. "Yes, but Verna is her mother's daughter. She is a blessing from the Ancestor's."
They sat in silence for several seconds. Finally, the innkeeper cleared his throat and looked at them. "You asked around for them?"
"There weren't too many people out and about when we arrived. We just walked around for a while then came here. One of the guards at the Ring recommended you." Sheppard wanted to be as truthful as possible. Any lies about their movements could easily be discovered. They needed help to find Elizabeth and Teyla, and had to build trust as quickly as possible. "We'll ask around tomorrow. Maybe someone has seen them or heard about them."
"And, if they're not here? Then what?" Ronon asked flatly.
Sheppard's response was only to shake his head and shrug despondently.
"You might find some help at Town Hall."
"Town Hall?" Ronon asked.
"Yeah." Dukon scratched his head thoughtfully. "Well, tomorrow is the day everyone prepares for market day, so the Hall is closed. But, it'll be open the next, on market day. The Sheriff's office may have heard of them. And, it is market. Plenty of folk you can ask there. Even a few from the big farms come to town. Some traders from off-world might be there, too."
"We're obliged." Sheppard half smiled. This was the perfect excuse to stick around for two days. No one would question their need to wait for the government offices to open.
"Loss of family is grave." The older man nodded and stood up. He turned the chair back to its table. "You are welcome, but a caution to you. Take care."
"Excuse me?" Sheppard asked innocently.
The innkeeper studied them in the firelight for a moment before answering. His impression of them when they first entered was reinforced. These two would be more than capable of looking after themselves, especially the big one. That might be the reason they were given the task of going to other worlds to trade for their community. It was not always safe to walk through the Ring of the Ancestors, even to known planets.
They both looked tired and anxious for their women, he thought. Dukon was inclined to agree with Verna's impression of them. More than a few refugees of Wraith attacks had come through the Ring in recent years. They sometimes looked for other survivors from their homes and moved on. Sometimes they stayed, often to their own regret.
"There is unrest here. It is not wise to be out in the night after dark. Please do not ask more." He nodded and walked back to the stairs. As he put his foot on the first step, he turned back to them. "Stay and warm yourselves as long as you wish."
After the innkeeper left, Sheppard and Ronon sat without speaking until there was too little heat to warm them. They went to their room, locking the door behind them. Ronon gently pushed the Colonel to the second bed.
"Your turn. I'll wake you at dawn."
Sheppard didn't bother to argue. He pulled the stunner from its holster and stretched out, not caring that his heels rested on the footboard as the top of his head touched the headboard. He held the weapon on his chest, threw the quilt over himself and was asleep in seconds. Ronon resumed the watch at the window.
----------
Teyla finally pushed away from the door. There was so little noise coming from the other side and no shadow passed through the light that came from beneath the door. It was difficult to know anyone was there. The sliver of light was just enough to show her a vague picture of the small room. She walked across to the window and tried to pry off the wooden planks that covered it. There was no way to remove them.
She pulled her coat tighter and wondered how long she had been asleep. The sun was still high when they were shown into the conference room and it had been pitch black when Janen came to see her. The barest hint of light crept through a thin crack between the boards. Was it morning?
Noises began coming through the wall. She thought she could hear people talking and moving around. She also heard footsteps in the hall and quickly sat on the bed. Teyla remained seated as a tray of food and water, and another candle, was set on the one chair in the room. The threat of harm to Elizabeth kept her still. The young woman leaving the tray quickly backed out of the room. The large man accompanying her bowed as he left close behind her. The bolt slid into place on the outside, locking her in again. As soon as she could no longer hear movement outside, Teyla tried the door. It was locked, and solid enough to keep her secure.
The Colonel sent her with Elizabeth. When he and Ronon were preparing for the mission to M3Q-631, he pulled her aside and asked Teyla to go to Caldea for the negotiations. Before she could protest, he pointed out that her knowledge of the politics and trading protocols in this galaxy were invaluable. She knew it was also because of the sprained ankle she suffered the week before. Even though she was almost fully recovered, Beckett did not want her traipsing over rough countryside just yet.
The sting of the failure to keep Elizabeth out of harm's way was deep as she pulled the blanket around her shoulders. She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching the door and straining to listen for footsteps.
----------
It seemed to be just after dawn. The sound of someone walking in the hall woke Elizabeth from a fitful sleep. Before she could rise, two men and two women came and escorted her downstairs to a bathroom. It was at the back of the building, a ramshackle worn place. In the early light, she was just able to see the hall and little else. What was visible was equally unpainted as her room.
Again, her guards were silent, only pointing the way for her to go. They avoided her gaze and stayed an arms length away from her. Elizabeth felt it was not out of fear of her trying to over power them, but, rather as a servant would treat a master. One guard, an older woman with large, strong hands that appeared to have worked hard for her entire life, stayed with her. The whole time, though her eyes were averted.
Elizabeth was obedient, but as they reached the door to her room, she tried one more time. She stopped in the doorway. Her captors hesitated and glanced at each other. The older woman looked her in the eye for the first time and shook her head just once. With that, Elizabeth stepped into the room and the door closed behind her.
A few moments later, the same guards opened Teyla's door.
----------
Verna turned to look at the stairs as Sheppard and Ronon descended. She was kneeling in front of the fireplace, sweeping the previous night's ashes into a pan. Ronon crossed to the window and looked out. Sunlight was just beginning to hit the upper floors of the buildings around them, but he saw no-one moving around.
"It's early yet. It will be full daylight before you see many folk about in the square. Everyone is preparing for market day tomorrow. Too cold to be out when there's no need." The young woman began to arrange kindling and wood on the hearth. She beamed when Sheppard squatted to help by passing her chunks of the hand chopped fuel. "Our woodpile is low, so Father has gone for more."
"I don't suppose you get a day off when you run a place like this, do you?" The Colonel sympathized as he passed her another piece.
"That is true, Sir, but we are warm and dry when many others must work in all manner of bad weather. And, when the weather is truly bad, we have no patrons at all." She carefully set one last piece of wood on the pile.
"Well, that is an advantage." Sheppard put his hand under her elbow and helped her stand.
"It's kind of you to help, Sir." She blushed as she dusted her hands on a faded apron. "If you like, the kitchen is already warm. I can cook a meal for you. Or, I can light this fire while you wait here."
"The kitchen is fine." Ronon turned from the window.
"You sure your Father won't mind?" Sheppard asked with raised eyebrows.
She began to guide them through to the kitchen. "Said he spoke with you late last night. Seems satisfied you mean us no harm."
Sheppard smiled at her. "Well, we don't mean you any harm. We're just looking for our family."
----------
The extent of the dilapidation of the buildings, hidden by the darkness of the previous night, struck both men. Except for the main street and square, everything was bare board and run down. It appeared as if the areas that would be seen by casual visitors from off world were maintained, but all else was being allowed to disintegrate. Some windows had no glass. Instead, only rough wooden shutters kept out the weather.
They remembered the conversation with Verna over breakfast. She openly talked about the landowners' stranglehold on the bulk of the wealth here. It looked as though a slow, agonizing deterioration was in progress. She said the landed families spent generations acquiring smaller farms around them, either through arranged marriages or buying out the owners. Sometimes, she hinted, the acquisitions were made by less legal means. The result was wealth and power in few hands, and most of the inhabitants barely getting by.
The appearance of the people in the streets reflected the poverty. They saw little new clothing, and hands and faces showed the wear of long, hard days. There was unexpected cheerfulness, though. The people around them greeted each other with warmth.
Verna told them some of the businesses in town were still owned by the families that had been running them for many years. Some, such as her father's tavern, had been handed down from one generation to the next since well before the last Wraith attack. However, even they were being gradually squeezed out.
So far, they had seen four different units of uniformed constables. There were four in each, and all were looking a little nervous. Mostly, their only arms were of the bludgeoning kind or knives, still functional and potentially deadly. One or two in each unit carried compact crossbows with short, thick bolts. Sheppard and Ronon were eyed suspiciously. At one point, an overly eager constable stopped them.
"You do not come from Caldea. What is your business here?"
"We came to look for our womenfolk." Sheppard stepped forward quickly when he felt Ronon tensing up. "Our planet was culled by the Wraith two seasons ago and we believe they were able to escape."
The constable chewed on his lip as he thought about the response. He looked closely at Sheppard and even more closely at Ronon. "Then, what are you doing wandering about town?"
"We're waiting for the Town Hall and the market tomorrow to ask about them. We wanted to just walk around in the off chance they are here and we might see them."
The man looked them up and down one more time before making his decision. "Well, stay out of trouble. Mischief making is not tolerated here."
Ronon answered this time. "We don't want any trouble. We just want to get our family back."
Sheppard muttered under his breath as the patrol walked away. He was surprised the kidnappings had been so low-key and non-violent. The wandering constables were going to make this much harder.
They were able to see much of the town in the space of a couple of hours. To reinforce their story, Sheppard occasionally approached people and asked if they knew of anyone from Endor. Some were sympathetic and spoke with them for a few minutes, but others would just shake their heads nervously and hurry away. They were stopped twice more by constables before heading back to the inn.
----------
Elizabeth paced back and forth in the confines of the room. Her efforts at engaging her captors in conversation each time they opened her door were as unsuccessful as the first. They treated her well, but avoided eye contact and said nothing.
She once tried walking past them, only to be held back by the men. They were firm but did not hurt her. It seemed, despite their worn clothes and appearance of laboring hard for their livelihood, they were well disciplined.
The sounds that she listened to for much of the day finally died away and stopped. Elizabeth wondered how so much activity could be happening so close without anyone knowing that she and Teyla were so near. Or, perhaps these people were fully aware of their presence.