JUSTICE

CHAPTER 15

Kilund knew they would come looking for him. The only question had been when. He'd been roaming from place to place making himself visible. Waiting for the day a stranger would mention his name. When he'd been on Active Duty you never left a man behind. Especially a man like John Sheppard.

He'd been around a lot of prisoners in his time. Some guys were scared. Others were mean sons of bitches – or at least they started out that way. Sheppard, he was a different breed altogether.

Almost from the first moment they'd met, Kilund had trouble believing his guilt. Sure, he knew good men could get into trouble, but Sheppard didn't strike him as a careless man. What did surprise him was the base he was in charge of. Atlantis was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

Kilund was no rookie. No innocent either. He'd travelled to many planets over the years, picked up prisoners from village hamlets to industrialized cities alike. Some prisoners even came from advanced civilisations, but none of their cities came close to this place. He'd heard all the legends about the city under the sea, and knew the Ancients must have been an advanced race by the device that cloaked Flenda. He was still blown away by the sights that met him round every corner. Atlantis was something special. She was as unique as the man in charge of protecting her.

He wondered why Sheppard had given up his fine life so easily. Kilund immediately dismissed the thought. It wouldn't have been an easy decision for anyone, but for a man like Sheppard there couldn't have been any other way. John Sheppard was a fool, but he was an honorable fool. A good man who would always do the right thing, no matter at the cost to himself.

Kilund watched Sheppard's team around the large conference table and felt a little jealous. It had been a long time since he'd been part of a tight group like this. He'd loved the army life. Once upon a time he'd even had hopes of commanding his own unit - until the day a sniper put a bullet in his leg.

Kilund missed the camaraderie of his old team but after the career breaking injury, he'd considered himself lucky to have a job. He'd even been proud of what he'd been doing. He'd justified all the cruel treatment he'd inflicted. Told himself it was necessary to prepare the prisoners for what to expect in the harsh prison. No more. He'd been living the wrong kind of life for so long, he'd convinced himself what he'd been doing was right. It was Sheppard who'd taken the blinkers off.

The Colonel had thrown them on the ground and smashed them into tiny pieces along with his illusions. Sheppard had shown him what he'd known but had chosen to forget. Cruelty wasn't justice, it was persecution. Kilund was ashamed of what he'd become and didn't have the stomach for the job anymore. Once he got Sheppard out, he never wanted to set foot in Flenda again.

It wouldn't be easy for an old soldier to change his ways, but he was gonna try. He'd find a nice place, get a new job, and maybe even find himself a good woman. Kilund liked it here, but he'd seen the crew milling about in their smart uniforms. For a scruffy guy like him, he didn't think Atlantis would be a good fit.

What would he do? He didn't think a farmer's life would suit him - he didn't want to work that hard. A job where he could be his own boss sounded good. A bar keep running his own place would do nicely. The bar where he'd met Ronon would do just fine, if he could convince Rualin to release his pension. Unfortunately after today he figured that might just be a problem. Kilund didn't care. Regardless of what the Commander thought he was going to spring Sheppard. He owed the man a debt. It was high time it was paid.

One thing he was sure of, he didn't want to deal with the brass again. Authority figures, guys like Woolsey droned on way too much for his liking. Kilund didn't understand how Sheppard put up with all this crap. He didn't figure him as a crawler. Sheppard's non regulation hair told its own story. It was wild and went its own way, just as independent as the man himself. He wondered how Sheppard coped with interference from this pencil pusher. Kilund reckoned it wouldn't go down too well. Or maybe it was just him that felt like that.

"Please don't take this wrong way, Sergeant Kilund, but now we have the address, I don't know why we still require your services?" Woolsey asked him.

Lorne leaned forward. "I agree. No disrespect, Sergeant, but you've seen the facilities here. We're more than capable of finding Colonel Sheppard ourselves."

Kilund realized he'd zoned out and sat up straighter in the chair. He locked eyes with the men across the table. "Go ahead, but the prison is shielded by a cloak. Not only will you not be able to see it, but they'll see you coming. Regardless of what facilities you have, a gun is still a gun. When you get close, they'll start shooting."

"Seriously…this place has cloaking technology?" Rodney pushed his laptop to the side and looked at him with curiosity.

Woolsey raised his eyebrows. "That is very interesting -"

"Hold on…that can only be Ancient tech," Rodney interrupted, his voice getting sharper as it rose with excitement, "so how did Flenda get it? Are there any Ancients living there? Is the prison part of a bigger city, say…like this one?"

Woolsey looked pissed. He'd drawn Rodney a look, but the small guy either hadn't noticed or didn't care. Normally it would have made him smile, but Kilund was growing impatient.

"Yes…the Ancients installed the cloak as a gift for taking in some of their prisoners. No…there haven't been any around for as long as I've been there. And no…Flenda isn't part of a city. It's a stone built fortress sitting alone in the middle of the desert. Their armaments are simple but effective – four manned towers. They can see folks coming for miles around." Kilund gave them a tight smile. "So…Mr Woosley, Major Lorne, if you go without me to disarm the cloak – you're going to have casualties on your hands."

There was silence for a moment as the information and the implications sank in. Ronon broke it. "How do you think we should play it?"

Kilund was used to taking orders and hadn't been asked for his opinion in a long time. With everyone looking at him he felt a little uneasy. "I go in and get him myself. For starters there could be a perfectly good reason he's not been released already. Maybe they didn't get the message – although I doubt it. To be honest having met Sheppard and knowing the Commander the way I do, I'm guessing he's pissed him off in some way. Rualin is a vindictive SOB so there's a good chance he's holding him out of spite."

"Do you think that is likely, Kilund?" Teyla's face had paled, but Kilund thought she was hiding her anxiety well.

"Unfortunately…yes. The Commander has always been a hard man, but these last few years…let's just say his mean streak has got a lot meaner. Still, he and I go way back. I was his SIC over twenty years ago. In fact it was him who got me my job when he took over the prison."

Lorne shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but if this guy is as bad as you say I can't let you go in there alone. Anything could go wrong, and he might end up killing you along with the Colonel. Besides, Sergeant…Flenda isn't the only one with cloaking technology."

ooooOoooo

"Are you ready, Doctor Beckett?"

Carson looked up from checking his supplies to see Major Lorne watching him. He liked Lorne. He was a polite young man, but Carson could tell he was impatient to be off.

"Nearly…Kilund has told me what to expect, so I've brought something for every eventuality." He glanced down at the units of whole blood, saline, antibiotics and morphine.

"Bolt cutters…" Rodney rolled his eyes. "Is this the latest accessory in every voodoo doctor's magic kit? What do you need those for?" He looked incredulous as he picked them up and dangled them from his fingers.

Carson kept focused on his task and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I need them to cut the chains off the Colonel's feet."

Rodney immediately dropped them. Only Lorne's quick reactions stopped the heavy piece of equipment making Carson the first casualty of the day.

"Bloody hell, son – you could've killed me!"

His heart was racing but Carson regretted the instinctive response. Rodney was as white as a sheet. When the scientist spotted the units of blood his old pal just looked at him, but said nothing.

Carson scrambled to his feet, zipped up the bag and turned to look at the assembled crew. Only Lorne, Rodney and Teyla accompanied the small squad of marines. Ronon had already left with Kilund. It was agreed they would all leave from the planet where Kilund had left his ride. He would go through the 'gate first, and the cloaked jumper would follow in his wake. If Kilund was successful, there wouldn't be any need to reveal their presence. If he wasn't, then it would be onto Plan B.

What he was going to say wasn't easy, but it needed to be heard and understood. Carson was sure neither Lorne nor Teyla would be shocked. Ronon already knew what happened to men in that hellish place. Rodney however was another matter. The scientist had toughened up since he'd been going off world, but seeing the results of violence was one thing. Witnessing the results of violence on a good friend was another altogether.

Carson pulled back his shoulders. "Right…just so as you know I expect the Colonel to be injured." Lorne's face was expressionless. Teyla had paled slightly, but barely flinched. Rodney eyes had gone wide. Carson looked at him then allowed his gaze to fall on the others. "How badly will depend on how much of the physical part of his punishment has been carried out...It would be naïve to believe he hasn't suffered at least one whipping by now. As for the rest, Kilund has told me the prisoners live in harsh hot, dry conditions. They are also fed minimum rations. Therefore Colonel Sheppard is likely to be very thin, and probably dehydrated. However…no matter how bad he looks I want you to remember one thing – he is going to get well."

"Thanks, doc." Lorne said in a low voice, and patted his shoulder. The Major then turned to the others. "Right…take your seats everyone. It's about time we got this show on the road. Let's bring the Colonel home."

ooooOoooo

Rualin had watched Kilund's approach almost from the Ancestral Ring. Kilund had been the best rider in his unit and his seat on the Yasic was unmistakable. Even in his advanced years his former SIC still cut an imposing figure. The tattered faded uniform covered in sand, belied the skill of the soldier underneath.

He was surprised and a little suspicious at Kilund's recent behaviour. After he'd delivered Sheppard his abrupt departure didn't ring true. His prolonged absence since was also concerning. Nevertheless, Rualin was glad to see him. There had been several requests for prisoner transport and he didn't want to break in someone new. Kilund was good at his job so he was prepared to overlook the extended holiday, provided of course the man got back to work.

A firm double knock on the door told him exactly who it was. "Come in, Kilund."

The Sergeant walked straight in and saluted. Rualin could see he was waiting to be offered a seat, but he didn't extend the courtesy. "Where have you been? You've been gone for nearly a month."

"Didn't they tell you?" Kilund took off his hat spilling sand onto the floor. "I'd taken a fall – hit my head. I don't heal as well as I used to, and Flenda sure isn't the place to get medical care. Anyway…after I dropped off the prisoner I went to the nearest town with a medic."

Rualin opened his top drawer took out a bottle, filled up a glass with amber liquid then slowly drained the contents. He put the bottle away before looking back. "I have work for you."

Kilund grimaced as he shook his head. "Sorry, Commander, but I only came back to tell you that was my last job. I'm getting too old for this kind of life…it's time for me to hand over to the younger men."

Rualin sat back in his chair and considered the man standing in front of him. He knew what age Kilund was. The Sergeant was fifty-seven, the same age as him. He'd been destined for greater things until the bullet which had destroyed his career. He was a good soldier, the best, and Rualin didn't want to lose his services. Apart from anything else Kilund was the closest thing to a friend he'd ever had. For that reason only, he made his decision.

"Fine…I accept your resignation. What are you going to do?"

Kilund smiled, the relief visible in his face. "I'm thinking about buying a bar. When I get settled I'll let you know where it is. You'll need to drop by. The first drink will be on me."

"I might just do that." Rualin gave him a half smile then looked down to the papers on his desk. "Now…unless there's anything else, I have work to do."

"As a matter of fact there is. I've been paid to deliver a pardon. It's for that last guy I brought. Sheppard I think his name was." Kilund handed over the missive. "I've been asked to take him with me when I leave."

Rualin went scarlet as he snatched it, then promptly tore it in half. "There's only one way Sheppard's leaving Flenda - in a box."

"What? C'mon Rualin…you can't do this. This man is innocent – he doesn't deserve to be in this place."

"I can and I will." Rualin glared at him. "My son didn't deserve to die…but he did!"

Kilund paled, and his voice went quiet. "Jalune's dead…what happened?"

Rualin stood up and walked over to look out the balcony. "He was escorting Sheppard down the stairs. They tell me he tripped. Both of them fell…but it was Jalune who broke his neck."

Kilund went over and put a hand on his shoulder. Rualin shrugged it away and the sergeant backed off slightly. "I'm sorry for your loss…but it was an accident. You surely can't blame Sheppard for what happened?"

"Can't I? Get out, Kilund…and make sure to close the door behind you."

ooooOoooo

Jalune had been a vicious SOB and Kilund couldn't mourn his loss. However his death couldn't have come at a worse time. It was going to make things a bit trickier but regardless, he still wasn't leaving without Sheppard.

Kilund looked around. Once he was sure he was alone and out of earshot, he put on the radio Major Lorne had given him. The small device felt strange. At first he couldn't remember what end he was supposed to speak into. Ronon's voice coming over the line gave him the answer. "Did you get him?"

He twisted his face to the tip of the wire. "No...Rualin refused to let him go. I know where they'll have him though. I'm going there now. Be prepared. We'll be coming out hot."

For a big man he moved quietly. He was a well known face amongst the guards, but didn't want to be seen going towards the hole. There was no reason for him being there and he didn't want questions to be asked. He also didn't want to hurt anyone – unless it was absolutely necessary.

The small row of cells was in near darkness. When he got there the new guy, Ceeland was just coming out of one of them. He cursed his luck.

Kilund reluctantly raised his gun. "I don't want to hurt you, boy, but I'm here to get Sheppard."

Ceeland put up his hands halfway. "He's in there…but he's in bad shape. You're going to need help to get him out."

He followed the blonde guard into the cell. Kilund sensed the gun wasn't necessary but kept it raised anyway. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark interior. When they did, he couldn't believe it was Sheppard lying in a heap on the floor.

The only thing recognizable from the man he'd brought in was the hair. Even in the dim light he could see Sheppard was trembling, his eyes bright with fever. A sheen of sweat ran down a face that was covered in bruises, and burnt raw by the sun. His body was a mess. Kilund knew the mass of torn flesh, and deep purple welts on his chest, would be mirrored on his back. Plus for some reason there was also a heavy dressing over his right knee. He guessed it was an injury caused by the fall. With a heavy heart Kilund realized Ceeland was right. He couldn't get him out of there himself – Sheppard was too badly hurt. This was a two man job.

"Kilund…is that you?" John started to cough.

Kilund saw his face creased in pain, and his jaw clench. "Yeah…it's me. It's a long story but it turns out you didn't kill the farmer after all. There's some folks outside who want you home."

A flicker of a smile grew on the wounded man's face. Kilund was sure he saw a tear falling down his cheek, but pretended not to notice. He nodded to Ceeland. "You willing to help me, boy?"

"Yes, Sergeant…What the Commander did to him wasn't right. I reckon my career is done here anyway."

Kilund holstered his gun and as gently as they could, they got him to his feet. Sheppard moaned softly, but didn't cry out. The man was shaking, but trying to help them by staying upright. The problem was he had nothing left. His strength was all but gone.

"Staging a jail break are we?" A cynical voice grabbed their attention. His heart sank when he saw Rualin at the doorway with a gun pointed straight at them.

"What are you going to do, Rualin - kill all three of us?" Kilund asked.

A shot rang out. Ceeland looked surprised at the red stain growing on his chest. The young guard stared at Rualin then fell to the ground dead.

Kilund tried to hold onto Sheppard but the wounded man was a dead weight, and his own bum leg began to give out. They were half way to the ground when Rualin grabbed Sheppard and dragged him, groaning in pain, out of the cell. Kilund lunged forward but the door slammed in his face. He was locked in the cell. He'd failed.

ooooOoooo

TBC

Hope you're all having a better weekend than John, or Kilund for that matter!

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