I can't always point out the good things that Running has given to me, but if I had to name one -

-E-

"Alright people, let's do this one by the numbers: we get in, we get our man, and we get out. Stay sharp and stay safe."

Eva stared at Rodney with the rest of them, surprise etched on her face. The Doctor was many things (intelligent beyond belief and arrogant to name a few), but she hadn't expected to include motivating on that list.

"Wha' are you on about?" Carson asked.

From what she'd been able to gather just from listening to others (typically while perched above, and often unnoticed - not that she meant to eavesdrop, she usually climbed up to think), Rodney wasn't exactly the type of man anyone expected to be a leader. He had the brains, but rarely demonstrated the qualities a leader needed in addition to being tactically savvy.

"Oh, just things Sheppard would say, so I thought I would, uh.."

"Well said, Rodney."

Eva shared a bemused glance with Ronon before the Satedan turned towards the ring. "Just stay behind me."

"Right."

Eva crossed the threshold and hung back long enough for Rodney to emerge. A worried expression was plastered on his face. "I liked your speech."

"Thank you, Eva," he replied, genuinely pleased. It wasn't often that people complimented his leadership skills.

With the sentimentality out of the way (just over a week, and she'd already developed a roaring sentimental streak that surprised her with the vengeance it exacted as it spread its roots) she cruised up to right behind the hulking Satedan.

She felt more comfortable following close to him than not.

He was another one who surprised her with his ability to lead. Though apparently he'd been in the Satedan military before he was captured. That part didn't surprise her at all.

A blocky structure loomed ahead of them, blending in poorly with the surrounding vegetation. She was frankly disgusted that the Genii considered this a 'secret compound.' Though she wasn't sure if she was just casting them in a negative light due to their recent... acquaintance.

Using Wraith to torture prisoners was beyond unacceptable. Priority one: rescue Sheppard. Priority two: kill the Wraith. Priority three: kill Kolya.

Priority four didn't really need to be listed. If priorities one through three were met, getting out would not be urgent matter.

She had another desire to kill Ladon (much as Ronon did, she suspected) but Doctor Weir was adamant that Ladon was working with them and not against them.

But he hadn't seemed surprised about the Wraith.

Ronon glanced at her and tilted his head one direction, before walking the other. She nodded and slid along the exterior of the building, looking for an entrance. Teyla crept behind her, guarding her back. She kept her gun pointed at the ground as she peeked around a corner... and a smile crept along her lips. She signalled Ronon in the way Sheppard had taught her in his military crash course, and the Satedan sidled up next to her and peered around the edge as well.

The door wasn't guarded. Which either spoke poorly of the team that had captured Sheppard, or indicated that they were too arrogant to think they could be found so soon. Or perhaps the guard was on the inside, so as to remain inconspicuous for as long as possible. The other possibility was one she didn't want to think about.

She slid up next to Ronon on the other side of the door from the rest of the marines, ready to bust in right behind him. She checked her gun, verified it was set to 'stun,' and handed Ronon a grenade. In the brief moment where he broke the glass and shoved the grenade through the window, she studied his long, brown coat. The supple material was flexible and fit him well.

She needed one for herself. Cutting out holes in the upper arms would be an easy fix to ensure the visibility of her clan tattoos. The last remaining connection she had to her past, her people. To her family. Perhaps it was fortunate the Sarif Sur was a temperate world, because it was an unspoken rule that clan markings were always to remain visible. To hide them was to be an outsider, a show of ego that most found despicable.

The clan tattoos were vivid affairs that spoke of shared history.

She would always show her tattoos.

The grenade went off, and Ronon burst through the door. She quickly followed him in, the rest of the team hot on her heels. They spread out in a practiced search pattern. An aisle over, she heard the blast of a particle magnum and the thud of a body crumpling to the floor.

She continued down her aisle, and vaguely heard Ronon declare, "Just a caretaker."

Something was off. There should be more guards, more evidence of activity. The warehouse had the stale smell of an old, unused room.

The sound of gunfire caught her attention, and she honed in on its position and vaulted over a small stack of crates, blitzing towards the origin of the sound. When she rounded the corner, Rodney was attempting to explain the situation. "...corner of my eye, I just uh... you know, I reacted..."

"What is it?" Teyla asked. Eva slid noiselessly around the group, eyeing the shadows for activity.

Rodney shrugged awkwardly, avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. "Just umm... a mouse. A really big one, though. More of a rat, really. Possibly rabid."

She paused in her tracks to arch an eyebrow and Carson said, "This isn't the place, is it?"

"I do not believe so."

Ronon holstered his gun. "No, Sheppard wasn't here."

Rodney slumped, "And we just wasted 2 ½ hours."

"Move out!" Ronon ordered, and the marines followed behind him.

She moved to stand next to Rodney, expression still amused. He glanced at her before looking back at the crates. "...and a mouse."

She grinned. "I thought it was a rat?"