Chapter 5

As leader of her people and as member of SGA-1, Teyla had been to many worlds. Many of those worlds had been poor and dirty; living in fear of the Wraith. Yet never had she been to a world as pathetic as this. Even in her mind Teyla hesitated to call any world by such a name, yet as they traversed the dirty, narrow streets she saw a desperation in the eyes of those they passed that convinced her she was not wrong. All her life she had believed that she should not judge any world, and thinking of this world as pathetic was a judgement she felt was unworthy of her and her people; be they Athosian or Atlantean. Yet no matter how she searched her mind, she could find no other word to describe that which she saw.

Draven Navac and his three friends – one other Satedan and two Sheab – led them on a circuitous route through narrow, filthy streets. The people they passed were just as dirty and their faces were all marked by poverty and malnutrition. Once they saw men dressed in black uniforms and black visors ahead of them in the street, and Draven had quickly and efficiently steered them to a side street in order to avoid those people. Though covered from head to toe, it had been obvious those men had not been suffering from the same poverty as the rest of the people. It had also been obvious that they were the ones carrying weapons.

Passing through another dark street, Teyla took a moment to look up at the sky. Greasy clouds that bore no sign of rain hung low overhead, blocking out the hot sun.

"Teyla?" she heard a familiar deep voice call her, and she turned her attention to Ronon. He was standing only a few steps ahead of her, waiting for her. She smiled at him, but within moments the smile failed as dirty child fell on the ground between her and Ronon.

"Please, ma'am," the child begged from where he kneeled on the ground. "Do you have a drop of water to spare?"

Teyla looked at Ronon, who was looking at her, and saw the same bewilderment in his eyes. She looked down at the child.

"Do you not have water?" she asked him, but before she could get any answer from him, Draven appeared on the scene.

"Leave the child," he told her. She glared at the Satedan, considering her answer.

"What's going on?" John interrupted the tense group. By this time the child had fled into the gloom of one of the shacks lining the streets. Teyla turned towards her team leader.

"Draven would not allow me to give water to a child," she calmly told him. John looked at the leader of the group that had freed them.

Whereas Ronon carried his size like that of a protector, someone that made you feel safe, Draven carried his size like someone on the edge of malevolence. Teyla had to admit that when she had first met Ronon, he, too, had been angry. But even then she had seen that though he was strong, he would not harm the innocent. Draven, on the other hand, made something in Teyla feel unsettled. When he had come on the scene moments ago, she had had the urge to step between him and the child. Now Draven turned to look at John, towering above the shorter man.

"If the patrol finds any unauthorised water on the child, they will kill him," he calmly told John, and though Teyla was not sure what the big man meant, she understood he had been thinking of the safety of the child. Her suspicion of him now seemed unfair and petty, yet she could not shake the feeling that she should not trust him.

"Then it was my mistake," she apologised. She noticed that Ronon had inched closer to her and was now somehow between her and Draven – the same way she had wanted to insert herself between Draven and the child.

The leader of the Forty shrugged. "When we have reached the safety of the shelter, I will explain all," he promised.

Teyla could see John was not very happy with the Satedan's answer, but for once he did not push or make any strange comments – something for which Teyla was immensely thankful. But he was their leader, and with good reason. He looked at Teyla with his chin slightly tucked in.

"You good?" he simply asked her. She merely nodded, aware that should she speak now, she might say something that would ruin the tentative peace. At her nod he shot a sidelong glance at Draven. "Good. Then let's go," he told the two of them.

As they continued down the street – which was more of an alley anyway – Teyla and Ronon fell slightly behind the main group. Aware that something was going on between Draven and Ronon, she decided to use the opportunity to ask him about it.

"You know Draven?" she asked the big warrior beside her. He did not look at her, but then again, neither had she looked at him. They were both warriors who felt the need to continually scan their surroundings. Neither one could be anything less.

"He was Malena's brother," he told Teyla. For a while she continued in silence; thinking on what he had said.

"You and Malena were never married," she gently prodded. It seemed to her Ronon stiffened even more beside her.

"No," he curtly replied. She was already forming the next question in her mind when he surprised het by speaking again: "He never approved of me. He did not want his sister to have anything to do with a warrior."

Again silence fell between them, but this time Teyla knew she had not intruded onto something Ronon did not want to share. Knowing him – and she did – he probably did not know how to explain the intricacies of his relationship with Draven.

This time she stole a glance in his direction. "Do you feel you owe him loyalty?" she wanted to know.

It took a moment for the man to answer, but when he did, he looked at her and smiled slightly. "Not anymore," he replied. "But we need him to find the Forty," he explained his actions. Teyla smiled in return, knowing that whatever had hurt him in the past was no longer hurtful.

The group finally reached a small, peeling door. Draven knocked twice and moments later the door squeaked open. A man dressed in rags ushered them inside; looking furtively from right to left.

The room they entered was not much bigger on the inside than it had appeared from the outside. Yet at least a dozen people were gathered inside. Their group brought that number up to nearly twenty people.

"Welcome to the Resistance," Draven greeted them. He looked impressed.

Slowly, carefully Teyla looked around the mottled group. Except for Rodney's torn pants, the Atlanteans were definitely the best dressed and best fed. Then there were seven – Draven included – that were obviously Satedan. They were not as thin as the rest of the people, but they were showing the same signs of hunger that the Sheabans were showing.

"What happened here?' she finally asked; incredulous. The tattered people in the tattered room was enough to make her believe she had not been incorrect in deeming the planet to be pathetic. They were hungry, tired and scared-looking. Yet this group had something those on the streets did not have: a look of desperate hope and anger.

Draven turned towards Teyla and for once she wished she were just a few centimetres taller, as he towered above her. "About a year ago my group joined with the survivors of Heran Telkin's group," he told her, indicating the other six Satedans. He then turned to include the rest of the Atlanteans. "We came here, hoping to find temporary shelter. But at our arrival the guardians of the chromulus arrested us."

"Then they do not visit other planets?" Rodney piped up. He looked the way Teyla felt.

It was one of the ragged Sheabans that answered Rodney, though. "The chromulus is not the device that brought you here, but the sacred shrine in which it stands," he explained.

John pulled that face of his that let everyone know he could not believe what he was hearing. "The stargate is a sacred relic?" he demanded. The native nodded.

"The device that brought you here is ons of two sacred objects left by the Ancestors for us to guard until their return," he added. "And though you are not the Ancestors, we," he said, opening his arms to take in the Sheabans gathered around him, "believe the Ancestors sent you here to restore the balance of this planet."

Though the room was packed, John seemed to think it important that the Sheabans not overhear whatever it is he needed to know. "Excuse me for a minute," he said to the Sheab, holding one finger aloft. He then turned his back on them, creating a small private space. Teyla decided to move a little closer as well, needing to hear whatever it was they were discussing. She kept her body turned towards the room, though.

"They think you are some kind of saviours?" he quietly demanded. Teyla could hear the idea did not sit well with him.

"Look, it has not rained on this planet in years," the Satedan leader explained. "There is nothing we can do about it, though. But your scientist can fix the stargate and get us off this planet."

Teyla leaned back slightly so that the Sheab could not hear her. "We cannot simply leave this people to die!"

"And what would you have us do?" Draven asked. "Every drop is rationed carefully and the patrols make sure nobody gets more than their share."

"Can't we relocate them somewhere?" John asked. "It just feels – wrong – to leave them like this."

"I agree," Teyla added. "If they stay here they will die."

But even as she spoke, Draven shook his head. "These people will not leave what they consider their sacred duty: to protect the chromulus." He looked at the two of them. "No, gentlemen, there is nothing we can do for them," he added with cold finality.