Part 10
"Sheppard, move." Ronon urged the Colonel forward another step. Dex tossed his shoulders upward slightly, raising Teyla's form into the air and freeing his shoulders of the pinching pressure of her solid weight.
The Runner took a hold of the Colonel's upper arm and directed him across the open ice. Sheppard attempted to twist his arm free to no avail. The colonel staggered a few steps, weaved a little to the left, over compensated to the right and finally stumbled onto a parallel path with Ronon.
Through the blowing snow, Dex could just make out the details of Captain Bishop's team.
They were green. A bright, unnatural green. Dr. Weir sent another team. A green team.
The Atlantean's did like their colors.
A few marines noticed his approach and jogged toward him.
"Sirs," a young marine stated smartly.
Ronon stared at the two young soldiers and then at the commotion behind them. A trio of marines kept their weapons aimed at the blackish water that lapped the edges of the ice. Two more worked over an ice crusted McKay who lay unnaturally still. Still two more tried to approach Beckett who lay curled on the ice, shivering within the confines of his torn parka. He fended off the intruders with dogged kicks and heavily, lashing feet. Though sluggishly slow, his kicks were effective.
"The Snow Yeti?" Ronon asked.
"Back under the water, sir," the marine paused and then added, "It tried to eat Doctor Beckett."
Sheppard merely grunted and wobbled in place, "He's like a walking Scooby Snack."
Dex shot the Colonel a questioning look.
The young marine gazed to his partner and then back at the ex-runner, "Sir, is there anyone else with you?" The marine peered passed Ronon and into the ice field hoping to see more of the original off world team.
"We're it," Ronon simply stated, keeping his eye on the rippling surface of the water with McKay and Beckett in his peripheral vision.
Dex allowed the marines to help guide their commanding officer toward the others but kept Teyla on his shoulders with an ankle and wrist clasped in one hand.
The mismatched group slowly closed the distance to the broken ice and Captain Bishop and his team.
Large blotches of discolored orange snow splashed the immediate area surrounding the hole in the ice. A thick wide path of orange disappeared over the edge and into the agitated darkened waters below. A thin film of clear ice already frosted the surface.
The M-5's had found their mark. The Snow Yeti, however, had made its escape, perhaps to drown under the ice. Dex didn't believe such a powerful creature would go so quietly.
Ronon slowly turned his gaze from the black waters to the knot of people that skirted the water's edge just a few feet from him.
Beckett struggled feebly within the grip of two marines. The Scot seemed to be holding his own, however, he was not constrained with the fear of injuring his opponents. The marines did their best to capture and restrain without invoking further injury on their target.
They were losing.
Ronon often found that 'nice guys' really did finish last---or limped away with the most bruises, or snapped bones.
The marines shouted at Beckett and tried to reason with him to no avail.
"He can't hear again," Ronon stated.
The Marine followed the Satedan's gaze. "That Snow Yeti had a mighty powerful roar and it had Doctor Beckett by the hood, sir. Doctors Beckett and McKay were tethered together." The yeti had Beckett half out of the water clenched in its teeth, shaking him like a ragdoll. Rodney was kept from clearing the water's surface due to the tether.
If Captain Bishop had not rushed forward and sliced the rope then surely Doctor McKay would have been lost. A few well placed M-5 rounds saw Beckett being dropped like a stone onto the ice. A very fortuitous and welcomed move for all involved.
The Snow Yeti slipped under the water's surface and disappeared.
Near the edge of the water, Beckett once again displayed a fierce scrappiness. Ronon had nodded in satisfaction, not displeased with the vigor in which the doctor struggled to survive. Even if said struggles were blind, muted and focused at helping hands. Dex had made a comment to Sheppard long ago about how to tap into such tenacious strength and get Beckett into training sessions. Sheppard had at that time told Ronon that it was a typical trait found in the indigenous people where Beckett came from. Ronon would one day like a chance to visit such a place.
"Sheppard?" Ronon nudged the colonel and directed his gaze toward Beckett who managed to land a solid kick against a young marine's shin with his boot.
The young marine gave ground, hopping on one leg and cursing with enough vehemence to rival a veteran sailor.
"Go ahead," Sheppard mumbled. His head ached abominably, almost as badly as his shoulder blades. His stomach gurgled and shifted with building unrest. He didn't have the stamina or fortitude to deal with another unnecessary battle.
Ronon slid his gun from his holster, spun it on his gloved finger and squeezed the trigger.
The red bolt of energy sliced through the brittle air and enveloped the CMO. Beckett's back arched, shoulders tightened and he crumpled to the side, unmoving.
P-90's flashed into gloved hands as marines spun around to face the approaching five. Ronon simply twirled his gun again and seamlessly holstered it.
"Should have done it the first time," Ronon stated in a 'told you so' manner.
"Probably," Sheppard mumbled and teetered slightly into the young private at his side.
"Are you alright, Colonel?" The young marine on the left asked. He had a strange accentless voice Sheppard couldn't place.
"Dandy," the colonel muttered. He then asked, "Where you from? Davis? It's Davis right?"
"Yes, sir. And I'm from Ohio, sir, Dayton."
Sheppard nodded thoughtfully. "You ever hear of the Corn Yeti?"
"Iowa, Sir," Davis answered with a hint of disgust and frustration, "That's Iowa, not Ohio." Davis couldn't understand why people continuously confused Ohio with Iowa and Idaho. Idaho was almost excusable, it had some pretty parts. But Iowa? Some people just weren't too bright. Iowa, indeed. Davis almost felt insulted. But then looking at his C.O., Colonel Sheppard wasn't running on all cylinders so to speak.
Dex ignored the conversation between Sheppard and Davis. Iowa seemed an inhospitable place and not a thing to ponder.
Ronon's searching gaze found Corporal Jones, standing to the side, flanked by fellow marines. The Runner's gun was in his hand and aimed at the corporal before anyone could react.
Teyla's weight across his shoulders didn't seem to hinder his speed. Sheppard wondered how much of Ronon's ability was natural, how much was Satedan training, and how much was fine tuned from life as a runner.
Jones backpedaled with hands in the air.
"Ronon," Sheppard warned.
"He was shooting at the Docs."
"That monster was after them," Jones stammered. "I was shooting at it!" the corporal pleaded his case.
Ronon kept gun steady, aimed squarely at the Corporal's chest. "You're a bad shot."
"Colonel Sheppard?" Captain Bishop asked with a hint of tight concern in his voice. Specialist Dex just stunned their CMO without warning, and Ronon considered Beckett a friend. The animosity the Runner displayed toward Jones at the moment didn't bode well for the young corporal.
The Captain wouldn't allow a fellow marine to fall to 'friendly' fire.
The young marines stood in tense silence waiting for orders. Dex was a member of SGA-1, but he was still a foreigner. Jones was new, but one of them, a marine.
Loyalties were greyed at best.
"Ronon, knock it off," Sheppard ordered tiredly. "We'll get this mess straightened out back in Atlantis."
Dex slowly holstered his gun but kept his stare transfixed on the young corporal from Iowa.
"Let them help Teyla," Sheppard quietly ordered. He managed to lift his head and focus on the two groups that squatted huddled over McKay and Beckett. A building pile of iced clothing and boots began to slowly grow adjacent to the two stretchers.
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Two hours later found the colorful mish-mash of off world teams congealed before the DHD and stargate. Brilliant orange, red and green parkas were muted by small abrasive pellets of ice. Wind swirled snow at shin height and buffeted hoods.
Captain Bishop radioed Atlantis.
Ronon stood beside Sheppard who started to flag somewhat after his second wind lost its grip. The colonel stood with his shoulders bowed and forehead resting in his mittened palm.
Teyla, McKay and Beckett were cocooned in blankets hidden beneath sleeping bags that engulfed them from tip of toes and up, over hatted heads. They were secured to stretchers with oxygen masks covering their faces. No skin was left exposed to the weather.
White medicated bandages, once again covered Beckett's eyes. The CMO struggled sluggishly and mutely within the confines of the stretcher.
Ronon warned them against setting the doctor free. The laceration and bruise that edged out from under the Satedan's hat foretold a suggestion based on experience.
Corporal Jones sat to the side, weaponless but unbound.
Captain Bishop stood off to the side speaking into his radio. "Doctor Weir, we have recovered SGA-1, Doctor. Beckett and Corporal Jones. Corporal Jones is saying something about Wraith Worshippers." Bishop looked up and acknowledged Ronon. "We'll need medical standing by." There was a pause and Bishop looked to Dex.
Ronon ignored him and stared at Jones.
The young soldier from Iowa cowered back from the gaze.
"It is unclear, ma'am. Corporal Jones was firing in the direction of Doctors Beckett and McKay, but also the Abominable Snowman."
There was a slight pause and then a nod from Bishop.
"Yes ma'am, Abominable Snowman."
"Snow Yeti," Ronon corrected. "Like the Corn Yeti of your world." The Satedan further explained.
Bishop gave him a confused and questioning look but nodded with an air of appeasement.
"Ronon calls it a Snow Yeti, ma'am." Bishop stated. He sighed and then added, "Yes, ma'am, you are correct it is apparently similar to the Corn Yeti of Iowa." The captain shook his head, trying to clear his confusion. "We're sending them through now ma'am."