"You have got to be kidding," Rodney grumbled as he walked through the 'gate, squinting his eyes against the bright sunlight.
"You would have preferred P2J-447?" John asked, stopping beside him. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his vest pocket and glanced at Rodney. "I seem to recall after Haven, you were pretty clear on not wanting to visit any more jungle planets."
Rodney scowled in reply, then ripped open one of his vest pockets and pulled out a thin tube. "At least I remembered to bring sunscreen."
John smiled. It had been a long two weeks sitting idle while Rodney and Ronon recovered from their last mission. He'd made a significant dent in the paperwork accumulating on his desk, which made Elizabeth happy, but John was past ready to get back to exploring new planets. He slipped on the sunglasses and studied the area surrounding the stargate.
Unlike most of the worlds they visited, the 'gate was situated in open, dusty scrubland instead of a forest. Clumps of sagebrush dominated most of the countryside, with some standing nearly as high as John's chest. Smaller, green shrubs with red flowers grew in the shadow of the sagebrushes. Low grasses sprinkled with various yellow, pink, or orange flowers grew anywhere the bushes left a little shady space, and a few stands of oak-looking trees dotted the landscape in the distance.
"It would seem this part of the planet does not see much rain," Teyla said as a dust devil crossed in front of them in the near distance.
"Life can't be easy here," John agreed.
"The nearest life signs the MALP detected were close to ten kilometers from the 'gate." Rodney finished smearing sunscreen on his nose and stuffed the tube in his vest pocket. "Explain to me again why we didn't bring a jumper. You can't be that eager for the walk."
"The exercise is good for you," John replied. "You've spent the last two weeks cooped up in your lab."
Rodney gaped. "I was shot! In the ass! With an arrow!"
"Ronon was nearly killed by that Wraith commander," John countered. "I don't hear him complaining."
Rodney sputtered, which made John grin.
"Elizabeth and I discussed it, and we agreed that even though the secret is out that Atlantis survived the Wraith siege a year ago, we didn't need to advertise that fact," John said.
"It's not a great reason," Rodney replied, "but I guess I see your point."
John walked over to Ronon, crouched near the DHD, studying a dirt path that led away from the 'gate. "Anything?"
"No rain in at least a week," Ronon said. "A few wagons in the last two or three days." He pointed to several crescent-shaped indentations outside the worn ruts of wagon wheels. "People here ride as well as use the horses for draft."
John glanced at the hoof marks as memories of horseback riding at summer camps played through his head. "So they are used to visitors."
Ronon stood and brushed the dirt off his hands. "Probably."
John nodded and turned to Teyla. "Anything look familiar?"
"No, Colonel," Teyla replied. "I do not believe any of my people have visited this planet."
Rodney walked over to their huddle, studying the Ancient scanner.
"The scanner is picking up the same life sign readings as the MALP." Rodney pointed toward a series of low foothills striped with orange and brown sandstone. Jagged rocky mountains stood sentinel over the open plain behind the foothills. "That way."
John nodded. "Ronon." He motioned toward the mountains.
Ronon checked the particle weapon strapped to his hip, then led the way down the dirt trail.
John glanced from the sagebrush to the rocky mountains in the near distance and found himself smiling as he followed Teyla and Rodney down the dusty track.
"You almost expect Matt Dillion or Paladin to come riding down the trail at any minute," John said after they'd been walking for several minutes.
Rodney snorted. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You and Paladin have a lot in common."
"Thanks, McKay." John grinned as he walked beside Rodney. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Rodney shook his head and pulled the Ancient scanner from his vest pocket.
"You watched Westerns as a kid? I wouldn't have thought shows with cowboys would have been that interesting to you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rodney asked with a scowl.
"Nothing. I just thought you'd be more into Mister Wizard," John said with a smile.
Rodney glowered in reply. "They were an escape," he finally said and focused on the scanner.
John frowned at the implications of that simple sentence.
"Who is this Paladin?" Teyla asked.
"He was a character in a Western called Have Gun, Will Travel," Rodney replied as he fiddled with the scanner. "Paladin was a gunfighter. Would hire himself out to whoever needed him."
"Yeah, but you're forgetting that Paladin always protected the innocent regardless of who hired him," John said. "Let me guess. You were a fan of Wild, Wild West."
Rodney scowled at John, then focused on the scanner. "Maybe."
"I knew it!" John replied with a grin. "There's more than a little Artemus Gordon in you."
Rodney humphed out a breath. "I take it back. You're more like Bret Maverick."
John chuckled.
Teyla looked from Rodney to John with a confused expression. "I do not understand. What is a Western?"
"All yours," Rodney said, never looking up from the scanner.
John studied McKay for a moment, then turned to Teyla. "You remember when I showed you and Ronon that movie a couple of months ago about four brothers who brought law and order to the town of Tombstone, Arizona?"
"The film with the vengeful sheriff?" Teyla asked.
"That's the one."
"Sheriff had the right idea," Ronon added. "Someone kills my family, I'd do the same thing."
John smiled. "Anyway, that's a type of Western. They are movies or television shows set in the American West about a hundred and fifty years ago."
"And why is this era of your planet's history of such interest?" Teyla asked.
John shrugged. "I guess because it was the last time there was any real adventure left. Men and women left behind everything they knew and moved to a new part of the country where everything was still a little bit wild."
"Not unlike your Earth expedition coming to Atlantis," Teyla said with an innocent expression.
John stared at her for a moment. "Yeah, I guess so. I never thought about it that way before."
Rodney poked at the scanner, then looked around. "In case you care about the actual mission, the scanner is picking up iron ore, quartz, and traces of naquadah."
"Naquadah?" John asked.
"Not very much, so don't get excited," Rodney replied. "The readings are coming from those mountains." He pointed toward the mountains in front of them. "No real pollutants in the air, either. Chances are these people are at a technological level similar to Gunsmoke." Rodney looked up from the scanner with a grimace. "So much for finding anything interesting."
John shook his head. "What about life signs?"
"The closest concentration is that way." Rodney pointed toward the mountains. He studied the scanner for a few seconds, then added, "Looks to be a fair-sized town. At least a few hundred people." He glanced at the hills and then at John. "There are a few smaller villages scattered up and down the valley."
"A population of that size is rare," Teyla said. "That bodes well for a good trade. There must be resources in short supply here that we might provide in exchange."
"Let's find out if they want to be friends," John agreed, motioning toward the mountains.
They were a few miles from the 'gate when several tumbleweeds skipped across their path on the strengthening breeze. John glanced up and frowned when he noticed the clouds gathering over the mountains in front of them.
"How much farther is this town?" John asked. "Looks like a storm's building."
"Lovely," Rodney muttered. He fiddled with the scanner for a few seconds, then added, "The village or town or whatever is still about five kilometers that way." He pointed off to their right.
"Might have been a bit hasty with the sunscreen," John said, eyeing the darkening clouds. "I got caught in a storm in the Arizona desert once. If the storms here are anything like that, this could be bad."
"Don't suppose you have an umbrella in your pack?" Rodney asked.
"Sorry," John replied.
"Figures." Rodney glared at the clouds. "I hate getting wet."
"Let's pick up the pace a bit," John said to Ronon. He might tease McKay, but he wasn't excited about getting soaked, either.
They walked a little faster, and Rodney zipped his jacket higher as the wind picked up.
John heard small animals scurrying through the sagebrush on either side of the path and saw several mouse-like animals hopping for cover under one of the smaller bushes.
"The animals are skittish," Teyla said. "They know a storm is coming."
John nodded, and watched as a herd of small deer-looking creatures, the largest not even reaching his knee, crossed the path in front of him. One of the animals stopped, its large ears perked forward as it watched them for a few seconds, then wandered into the cover of a clump of the larger sagebrush a few feet off the dirt track.
"Almost look cute," John said as they started walking again.
"Do not let their appearance fool you, Colonel," Teyla replied. "The binchatka are scavengers. A herd of them can strip the carcass of a large animal in a few hours."
John glanced back at the sagebrush, saw several pairs of eyes watching them, and walked a little faster.
They passed a stand of oak-looking trees thirty minutes later, and John wasn't surprised to see the trees clustered around a swift-moving stream. The ruins of several wooden houses stood under the shelter of the trees, and a fortified stone bridge arched over the burbling water. Another larger stone structure stood on the other side of the stream, and John saw the remains of a water wheel built against the river side of the ramshackle building.
"Talk about over-engineering," Rodney said as they crossed the bridge. "Why go to all the effort to reinforce the buttresses like that?" He pointed to the thick wall built around the arch of the bridge.
"Aesthetic?" John suggested, and Rodney snorted.
"Do you see any stone around here?" Rodney waved his arm at the scrubby landscape. "Whoever built that bridge hauled that stone here. Probably from there." He pointed to the mountains still a few miles in the distance. "You don't just do that."
"This appears to be an old grist mill," Teyla said, stopping near the large stone building.
John walked around the building, noting that part of the roof had caved in at some point. He found a thick wooden door, pulled it open and winced at the shrill squeal of the hinges. He poked his head inside the door, saw the flat millstone in the center of the room and a few broken barrels shoved into the far corner. He pushed the door closed and walked back to Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney standing near the stream's edge.
"I wonder why it was abandoned," Rodney mused, looking around.
"Perhaps something happened to their crops," Teyla suggested, and John wondered if he imagined the hint of regret he heard in Teyla's voice. "Or they may have all been culled. There is no place to hide near here."
Rodney gave the ruins a startled glance and looked up. John wondered if he expected darts to come flying out from behind the gathering clouds.
"When we get to this town of yours, you can ask," John said and nodded to Ronon.
They crested a low flat-topped hill an hour later and looked down on a small town sprawling across the open ground between them and the higher peaks behind the buildings. Their dirt path widened into a broad dirt road, lined on either side with clapboard buildings. Many of the buildings were two stories high, and a wide, raised wooden walkway, covered by a long wooden awning, fronted the buildings. The road eventually disappeared into the mountains behind the town.
John traced the route of the road up into the hills and saw several dark holes opening out of the side of the foothills.
Mines? John wondered. Or escape routes in case the Wraith attacked?
A waterfall tumbled down from the mountains and fed into a stream. A wooden building with a water wheel stood at the base of the waterfall, and John saw wires running from the building to the town. The stream then meandered through fenced fields of animals grazing on the low-growing ground cover. Vegetable and grain crops grew along the stream's banks on the other side of the town. Other than a few trees shading the paddock and crops, there was no other natural vegetation.
Dozens of houses lined the second road that ran east to west from the center of the town.
Large wooden signs arched over the road in each direction at the edge of the town. The sign facing them read 'Dakan', which John assumed was the town's name.
"Such a dry environment," Teyla said, looking out on the dusty plain below, "and yet they have cultivated crops to grow in these conditions. If Rodney's scientist is correct, and the climate on the mainland is entering a dry phase, discussing a trade for drought-tolerant seed would benefit my people."
"Couldn't hurt," John agreed and started down the hill.
They followed the path into the town, and John couldn't help the wide smile on his face as he gazed at people and buildings.
Several men and women walked up and down the wooden walkways, talking to one another or peering through the dusty windows. The men wore rough trousers of some sort of brown material held up with suspenders, long-sleeved cotton shirts, and a few wore wide-brimmed hats. The women wore long dresses in various colors.
The townspeople stopped and stared as John and the others walked down the dirt road. A few of the women whispered comments behind their hands, and John noted several of the men staring at the weapons he and the others carried.
"Why is everyone staring at us?" Rodney asked. "I thought these people were used to visitors."
John silently wondered the same thing and tightened his grip on the P-90.
He heard high-pitched laughter from the other side of the road, turned, and saw children of various ages playing in front of a single-story building fronted by a wide porch. A woman holding a large handbell stood on the porch watching the children.
Tools and sacks of dry goods piled outside another one of the buildings marked it as some sort of store or trade house. A balcony lined the second floor of the store. Doors opened onto the balcony on either end of the building, and John wondered if the owner lived above the store. A wagon pulled by a barrel-chested horse stood in front of the building. Two young men passed sacks from the building's doorway to a third man loading the sacks into the back of the wagon.
The three men stopped working and stared at John as the team walked past.
John nodded to the men and kept walking.
He spotted bars on the windows of another single-story building, the only building along the dirt road made from stone instead of wood, glanced up, and saw a star crudely painted on a swinging sign over the door. A burly young man with a ruddy complexion sat in front of the building, staring at them suspiciously. Before John could acknowledge the man, he stood and disappeared inside the building.
"Someone never told these people about tuning a piano," Rodney grumbled as jangling, off-key music filtered out into the street from another of the buildings.
"Maybe we'll offer you as a piano tuner in with our trade for Teyla's seed," John suggested as they walked farther down the road.
"Ha-ha," Rodney retorted.
"I do not see any sort of customs house," Teyla said, looking around the town. "Perhaps we should try -"
"Welcome to Dakan," a voice called from behind them. " Can I help you folks?"
John turned and saw a tall, thin man walk out of the building behind them with the bars on the windows. The burly young man followed the lanky man out of the building and leaned against one of the awning supports, watching them.
The tall man was older than the other man. John estimated he was closer to fifty than the late twenties that he pegged for the man glowering at them from under the awning. The older man wore black trousers and a white shirt with a silver, six-pointed star pinned to his black vest. He pushed the brim of his hat back, rested his hand on the butt of a familiar-looking gun strapped to his waist, and gave John a suspicious once-over.
"Name's Logan," the man said, glancing from John to Ronon, and then nodded at the weapons they carried. "I keep the peace 'round here. If you're here to start somethin', you can just keep right on walkin'. We got enough problems without you addin' to 'em."
John raised a hand and made sure the barrel of the P-90 was pointed at the ground. "We're explorers," he said with a genial smile. "We were hoping to talk to someone about a trade. My name is Colonel John Sheppard. These others are Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex, and Rodney McKay."
"Lookin' to trade, 'eh?" Logan crossed his arms over his chest.
"Yes," Teyla replied, stepping forward. "We are hoping to trade for seed."
Logan grunted in reply as he peered from Teyla to Rodney, did a double-take, and stepped closer to McKay.
Rodney took a hurried step back, and John tightened his grip on the P-90.
"You look familiar," Logan said, pointing to McKay. "Have I seen you around here before?"
"Umm, no," Rodney replied with a nervous glance at John.
"We just arrived on your planet a few hours ago," John said. "We were trying to beat the weather." A stronger breeze, laced with the scent of rain, blew down the road, emphasizing his point.
Logan shook his head and took another step. "I know I've seen you before. I never forget a face."
Before John could move, Ronon stepped in front of McKay and glared at Logan. "You're wrong."
Logan rested his hand on the butt of his gun and met Ronon's glare with one of his own. "I'll figure it out eventually. It would go better for you if you just told me now."
"Ronon," John said and jerked his chin.
Ronon glared at Logan for a moment longer, then stepped back, pulling Rodney back with him.
"Maybe we should just leave," Rodney muttered as Logan continued to study him.
John was ready to agree when Teyla spoke.
"Is there someone we could speak to regarding a trade negotiation?" she asked into the heavy silence.
Logan eyed McKay a moment longer, glanced at the others, then pointed at a two-story building fronted by a pair of large windows and a set of swinging doors across the road.
John glanced at the building, and Rodney winced as whoever played the piano hit a string of off-key notes.
"Tell Rance behind the bar that you want to see Hyram," Logan said to Teyla.
"Hyram," Teyla parroted with a nod. "Thank you."
Logan tipped his hat in Teyla's direction and, with one last glance at Rodney, wandered down the road toward the edge of town.
The townspeople stared at them for a few more seconds, then returned to their shopping. John frowned when he noticed the burly man still standing in front of the sheriff's office, watching them with narrowed eyes.
"Interesting gun," Ronon said.
John tore his gaze from the man watching them and turned to Ronon. "You saw that too?" he asked, glancing at Logan, who had stopped to talk to the young men loading the wagon.
"What was so special about it?" Rodney asked.
"It was a Genii weapon," John replied.
Rodney swallowed hard and glanced up and down the street. "Great. Just what we need, the Genii to come calling."
"Could be they just trade with the Genii," John said. He studied the men and women walking along the boardwalk. "No one else seems to be armed. Still, keep an eye out." He gave Ronon a significant look.
Ronon nodded and twitched the leather duster so it was clear of the particle weapon.
John led the way across the road, peered over the top of the low, swinging doors, and saw a long wooden bar on the opposite wall. Bottles and rows of glasses lined a shelf behind the bar. A tall man with short, reddish-blonde hair and a scruffy beard stood behind the bar, pouring an amber liquid from one of the bottles into a row of glasses.
Three wrought iron chandeliers, each lit with a dozen large bulbs, hung from the wooden beams in the ceiling. The floor was bare stone, and a dozen sturdy wooden tables with chairs were scattered around the room. A wooden staircase led to a second floor lined with several doors.
A woman wearing a short red skirt and matching low-cut top nodded to the man behind the bar, arranged the glasses on a tray, and then walked over to three men sitting at a table near an upright piano. Another woman, wearing the same red skirt and top combination, sat in front of the piano, enthusiastically pounding the keys. Two more women circulated the room carrying trays of drinks or plates of food.
John pushed through the doors, and a few of the men and women seated at tables looked up from their conversations and watched as he entered the saloon with Ronon looming behind him.
"Hello," John said, smiling at the crowd watching them.
A few of the men nodded in reply, then focused on their companions or the food in front of them.
"Hello, yourself, handsome," one of the women carrying a tray of drinks said and stopped in front of John. She gave Ronon an appreciative once over and smiled. "I'm Addie."
"John."
Addie smiled. "What can I do for you, John?" she asked with a wink.
Rodney choked something that sounded like 'Kirk', but John ignored him.
"We're looking for Hyram," John said. "We were told he's the man to speak to about a trade."
Addie sniffed and bobbed her head toward the bearded man behind the bar polishing a glass. "Talk to Rance," she replied, walking over to a table in the corner. "He'll let you know if Hy is available."
"Thanks," John called.
Addie turned back, winked again, and dropped off the drinks to the three men seated at the table.
John wended his way through the maze of tables and stopped at the end of the bar. "Excuse me," he said to the man behind the bar, polishing a glass.
"Help you?" the man asked in a bored tone. He set the clean glass on the shelf behind him and picked up another from the bar.
John started to speak, but Teyla rested a hand on his arm. John glanced at her then took a step back.
"You are Rance?" Teyla asked.
The man jerked his head in a brief nod.
"We were informed you could tell us where to find Hyram," Teyla said. "We wish to speak to him regarding a possible trade."
Rance considered Teyla for a moment, glanced at John and the others, then set the glass he'd been polishing in front of Teyla. "Not sure Hy is available right now." He picked up a bottle from the shelf behind him, gave Teyla a knowing look, and poured a stiff shot into the glass.
"I see." Teyla pursed her lips, picked up the glass, and eyed the amber liquid inside.
"I don't think -" Rodney started to say, but Teyla tossed back the shot and set the empty glass back on the bar.
"May we speak to him now?" Teyla asked.
Rance picked up the glass with a smile and nodded. "Stay here," he said, disappearing through a door behind the bar.
Teyla waited until the door closed, then gripped Ronon's arm as she bent forward with her other hand on the bar's edge.
"Teyla?" John said.
"I will be all right, Colonel," Teyla replied in a breathy gasp. "The drink was more potent than I expected."
Ronon sniffed the glass. "Fire whiskey," he said, setting the glass back on the bar.
Teyla kept her grip on Ronon's arm for a moment longer, then let go and nodded. "Much stronger than Telus' version," she admitted with a weak smile.
"What was that all about?" Rodney asked.
"It is not an uncommon tactic," Teyla replied. "It is seen as a show of faith and goodwill to accept food or drink before negotiations begin."
"And it gives the other side an advantage if you can't hold your liquor," John added.
"That may be part of it as well," Teyla agreed.
Rance pushed open the door and jerked his chin. "Through here."
Ronon moved toward the door, but Rance shook his head. "Just her."
"That's not -" John started to argue, but Teyla held up a hand.
"It is our custom to have a witness present at any negotiation," she said to Rance.
Rance pursed his lips and glanced through the door behind him. "Fine," he acquiesced. "Just one of you."
"You and McKay stay here," John said to Ronon. "Hopefully, this won't take long."
"Fine with me," Ronon replied, tugging Rodney toward an empty table.
John waited until they were seated, then followed Teyla through the door and down a hall lit by a series of bulbs behind wrought iron sconces mounted on the wall. An open door on the left opened into a scullery. A second door on the right led to a bustling kitchen.
A man stood at a counter, chopping vegetables while a woman rolled out dough on another counter. A pot bubbled over a burner on a wood stove, and a boy stood next to a wide fireplace turning a spit of meat.
Rance stopped at a set of double doors at the end of the hall, knocked twice, and opened the doors. "The people to trade," he announced.
"Thank you, Rance. That will be all," a female voice replied.
"Hyram is a woman?" John muttered with a glance at Teyla.
Rance snorted and stepped back from the door.
"And a woman with excellent hearing," Hyram replied, closing the book on her desk. She stood and motioned Teyla and John into the room. "Please."
John allowed Teyla to precede him and studied the room.
The room was small, with stucco walls and several rugs strewn across the stone floor. A carved desk sat against the wall opposite the door next to a narrow window. Two hide-covered chairs sat in front of the desk. More large electric bulbs flickered from paired sconces mounted on the walls at regular intervals. A fireplace in the corner provided additional light as well as heat.
Teyla unclipped her P-90 and sat in one of the chairs while John wandered over to the fireplace and stood with his back against the wall and his hands resting on the butt of the P-90 dangling from his vest clip.
Hyram sat, glanced at the door, and frowned. "I was told there were four of you."
"Rance requested that our companions wait in the main room," Teyla replied.
"Did he?" She pierced Rance, still standing in the doorway, with a stern look. "See to it they are given something to eat."
"Yes, ma'am," Rance replied. He bobbed his head and closed the door.
"My apologies," Hyram said and stood from the desk. "Rance sometimes believes he must act as my protector with strangers." She clasped her hands on the desk and studied Teyla, then gave John a penetrating glance.
"You are Athosian, if I'm not mistaken," Hyram said to Teyla.
"Yes. My name is Teyla Emmagan."
Hyram nodded. "Rance mentioned one of the other men with you was Satedan?"
"That is correct," Teyla replied.
"I was unaware there were any Satedans left after what the Wraith did to their planet," Hyram said. "There were also rumors that Athos had been completely culled a few years ago."
Teyla met Hyram's gaze. "Sadly, those rumors are true."
Hyram glanced over at John. "Your dress and aspect are unfamiliar to me."
"Colonel John Sheppard," John replied.
"Colonel Sheppard was instrumental in saving my people when the Wraith attacked Athos."
"Was he?" Hyram replied. She studied John for several long seconds. "Interesting."
Teyla turned to John with a puzzled frown.
John glanced at Teyla, pursed his lips, then focused on Hyram. May as well get it over with, he told himself.
"We're from Atlantis," John told Hyram.
Hyram leaned back in her chair. "So the Ancestor's city was not destroyed by the Wraith after all."
"No," John replied. "Not that they didn't try."
"I see," Hyram replied. "You may be just what my town needs, Colonel."
"Your town?" Teyla asked. "How does someone own a town?"
"My family started this town nearly fifty years ago as a trading outpost."
"For those visiting from other worlds?" Teyla asked.
Lightning flashed outside the window, and Hyram nodded. "As well as many of the other towns and villages here on Keota. We are close enough to the portal for off-worlders like yourselves to find us. Eventually, Dakan became a major trade hub for this part of the planet."
"Kind of a small town for a major trade hub," John said.
"The last few years have been … difficult," Hyram admitted.
"The Wraith?" Teyla asked.
Hyram nodded. "There was a culling a year ago," Hyram replied, her tone somber. "Several of the smaller towns were completely wiped out."
"I am sorry," Teyla said.
Hyram nodded. "We survived. That is the important part."
"Were there any survivors from the other villages?"
Hyram nodded and shifted in her chair. "We took in some. Others chose to rebuild their lives where they were." She glanced out the window as more lightning flashed.
"But Dakan was spared?" John asked.
"Most of my people hid in the mines." Hyram waved a hand at the wall behind her. "There may not be as much trade as before." John saw Hyram's knuckles turn white as she clasped her hands together on the desk. "But we still have our crops and animals. For the moment," she finished, seemingly more to herself than to John or Teyla.
John frowned at the odd statement. Something was going on around here, he decided. Something that had these people spooked. The question was what and if whatever it was posed a threat to his team.
"We were told you were the person to speak to regarding a trade for drought-tolerant seed," Teyla said into the awkward silence. "We have grain and tava beans to offer in exchange."
Hyram shook herself out of her reverie and nodded. "I believe something could be arranged. I must check our supplies and decide what a fair trade would be." She stood from the desk and motioned them toward the door. "I will tell Rance to prepare rooms for you upstairs." She paused, and John noted her fearful glance at the window. "I should have an offer ready for you sometime tomorrow."
There was a louder rumble of thunder outside, and a moment later, rain pelted the window.
Teyla glanced at John, then nodded and stood. "In that case, we will speak again tomorrow."
~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~
Ronon walked over to a table in the corner of the room, pulled a chair around to watch the door as well as the rest of the room, and sat. McKay sat in the chair on Ronon's left side, and Ronon idly wondered if McKay had purposely left his gun side clear or if it was just happenstance.
The light in the room dimmed as clouds covered the last of the afternoon sunlight trickling through the windows, and the increased wind made the swinging doors creak as they flapped back and forth.
Ronon noted the nervous stares from the other men and women at the nearby tables and did his best to ignore them. It was clear to him from the way the men clutched their mugs and the women huddled in their shawls nibbling at the food in front of them that everyone in the room was uneasy. What he found interesting was that, for once, whatever had the people in the room so afraid, it wasn't him.
"Is it just me, or is everyone on edge?" McKay asked, glancing around the room.
Lightning flashed, followed by a low rumble of thunder.
A woman carrying a tray of dirty dishes flinched, dropping the tray. Several people seated at the nearby tables jumped in response to the shattering noise.
"Oh!" the woman cried, covering her face.
Addie hurried over and helped the woman gather the pieces of broken crockery. "Here, Sarah, let me help."
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Sarah muttered, and Ronon saw her hands shaking as she bent and placed the pieces of a broken plate on her tray. "I'm just …" She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her other hand.
"It's all right," Addie whispered. "Rance won't never even notice the broken dishes. Not for the next few days, anyway."
Sarah gave her a watery smile. "Thank you, Addie. I don't know how you can stay so calm."
"Don't have much choice," Addie replied with a teasing smile. "Someone has to keep this place running."
"Not just you," Ronon said to McKay, watching as the two women stood and disappeared through the door behind the bar.
Addie reappeared a few minutes later, poured shots of fire whiskey into a couple of glasses and walked over to two men seated at a table near the piano.
More lightning flashed, followed by a louder rumble of thunder.
Rance returned to the main room a few minutes later and stopped Addie as she walked past the bar.
"Where's Sarah?"
"I told her to go home before the storm broke," Addie replied. "She's a wreck worrin' about those younguns of hers since her husband …" She let the sentence peter out.
"Suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Rance grumbled, then jerked his chin toward Ronon. "Hyram is talking to their friends. See what they want to eat."
Addie nodded and walked over to Ronon.
"What'll you have, boys?" Addie asked, and Ronon heard the note of forced levity in her tone. She stopped next to Ronon's chair and rested a hand on his arm.
"Beer," Ronon replied.
"Comin' right up." Addie smiled and brushed her hand down Ronon's arm. "What about you, sugar?" she asked McKay.
"I don't suppose there's any food around here?"
"We got a stew, and there might be something left of the bovine Rance butchered last week."
"The stew, I guess," McKay replied.
"Two mugs of beer and two bowls of stew." Addie nodded and walked back to Rance at the bar.
Ronon watched as Rance took two mugs from the shelf behind the bar, then focused on the rest of the room as more thunder rumbled outside. Men and women finished eating and quickly left the saloon, nervously looking up and down the dirt road as they pushed through the swinging doors. The few men still in the room pushed aside their empty plates and sat speaking in hushed tones.
Addie returned to their table, set two mugs of beer on the table, and said, "The stew will be a few minutes."
"Oh, umm, thanks," McKay said. He swallowed some beer, made a disgruntled face, and pushed his mug away.
Ronon drank his beer, savoring the spicy kick of the hops.
The woman playing the piano finished her song a few minutes later and stood. "I'm going, Rance."
"Finally," McKay muttered under his breath.
Ronon hid a smile behind his mug as he drank more beer. He had to agree. The off-key jangling of the piano had been getting on his nerves.
Rance glanced out the window as lightning flashed. "You want one of the boys to see you home?"
The woman wrapped an embroidered shawl around her shoulders and shook her head. "Cal is waiting for me. I'll be fine." She left the saloon, and Ronon heard the rapid click of her heels on the boardwalk as she hurried away.
More lightning flashed, and the room's lights dimmed momentarily. Thunder cracked louder, and the wind picked up, rattling dust against the windows.
"What are the odds we can get a room for the night?" McKay asked. "I hope Sheppard doesn't expect us to hike back to the 'gate in that." He waved his hand at the window as more lightning flashed.
"Might be better than staying here," Ronon replied.
McKay glanced around the room. "Maybe they just don't like thunderstorms."
Ronon snorted. "Not the weather they're afraid of."
Ronon finished his beer, set the empty mug on the table, and glanced at the wildly swinging doors when he heard the clatter of several people running on the boardwalk outside.
He caught movement from the corner of his eye, turned, and saw Rance gripping a thick club in his hand. Ronon glanced back at the swinging doors, sat forward in his chair, and grasped the butt of the particle weapon in one hand.
"What's wrong?" McKay hissed in a low whisper.
Ronon shook his head and focused on the door.
A moment later, several of the townsmen returned carrying rifles or long clubs. Rance set the club on the bar and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Ronon waited until the men settled around the scattered tables, then released his grip on the particle weapon and gave McKay a significant look.
McKay swallowed and nodded. "Definitely not the weather," he agreed and glanced at the door behind the bar.
Addie stopped at one of the occupied tables, cleared the dirty dishes and raised a questioning eyebrow. The men shook their heads, and Addie glanced at Rance with pursed lips as she carried the dishes through the door behind the bar.
It started raining a few minutes later, and the large drops hitting the awning sounded loud in the suddenly quiet saloon. The men in the room shifted in their seats, taking turns glancing at the swinging doors. There was little conversation. The only other sounds were the crackling of the fire and the increased rumble of thunder.
"Maybe they won't come here," a man a few tables away said to his friend seated on the other side of the table.
The other man snorted. "Ezra spotted them in the foothills a few days ago." The man picked up his mug and drank. "They're coming," he continued, holding out the empty mug to Addie. "It's just a question of when they'll get here."
The first man clenched his mug in his hands. "We could run," he suggested.
"And where would we go? They are destroying every town they come across with that gun of theirs."
Ronon jerked upright and glared at the two men.
"What now?" McKay asked, looking around.
"What kind of gun?" Ronon demanded, ignoring McKay and startling the two men.
"What's it to you?" the second man demanded with a scowl. "You ain't from here. It ain't your problem."
"Gun?" McKay parroted and turned to the two men.
"Some kind of laser cannon," the first man said.
McKay paled and turned to Ronon. 'Cannon', he mouthed.
"Shut it, Jace," the second man ordered.
"This is not good," McKay whispered to Ronon. "Where would someone on this planet get a cannon, laser or otherwise?"
Ronon started to reply but stopped when the door behind the bar opened, and Sheppard and Teyla walked into the room.
"That wasn't very productive," Sheppard said to Teyla as they walked over to Ronon's table.
"It was an … unusual negotiation," Teyla agreed. "However, I do not sense any deception on Hyram's part."
"Maybe not about a trade agreement," Sheppard said. He looked around the room, then unclipped the P-90 from his vest and sat across from McKay. "But she was hiding something."
Addie walked over to their table carrying a tray.
"Hello, again, handsome," she said to Sheppard as she passed McKay one of the bowls of stew. "Can I get you something?"
McKay picked up a spoon and poked at the meat and vegetables in his bowl.
"We'll just have the same," Sheppard replied, nodding at the bowl of stew Addie gave Ronon.
"You got it, handsome," Addie replied and walked back to the bar.
"Unbelievable," McKay muttered.
"It's called charm, McKay," Sheppard replied with a smile.
McKay snorted and focused on his stew.
Ronon swallowed a mouthful of stew and turned to Sheppard. "There's something you need to know …"
Loud footsteps reverberated along the boardwalk, and Ronon stopped speaking. The men seated around them tensed, and Sheppard reached for the P-90. A moment later, Logan strolled into the saloon, and everyone relaxed. Logan shook the water from his coat, glanced around the room, paused his gaze on McKay for a moment, then walked toward the bar.
"Logan," Rance greeted with a stoic nod and set a frothing mug in front of the sheriff.
"Thanks," Logan replied, taking a long drink from the mug.
Rance raised an eyebrow, and Logan shook his head. "Nothin' yet," he said and drank more of his beer. "Ezra's on watch now. If they come tonight, the rain is going to make spottin' 'em difficult."
"Maybe the storm will keep them away," Rance suggested.
Logan shook his head and drank from the mug. "Won't stop 'em for long."
More thunder rumbled overhead, and the rain came down harder. Conversation in the room died, and the men stared at the swinging doors.
Addie returned to their table a few minutes later with two steaming bowls and a pair of mugs on a tray.
"You need to eat quick," Addie said as she handed a bowl to Sheppard and passed the other to Teyla. "Rance'll be boarding up the doors soon."
"If you told us what going on, we might be able to help," Sheppard said.
Addie set two mugs on the table and glanced around the room. "No one can help," she replied in a near whisper, all of her coquettish charm gone. Thunder clapped, and Addie flinched as she stepped back from the table. "Finish your stew and get out of town, handsome. Before it's too late."
"Perhaps we should speak to Logan," Teyla suggested once Addie was gone. "Offer to assist him."
"Maybe we should find out what's actually going on before volunteering to deal with it," McKay retorted. "One of those men mentioned something about someone having some sort of cannon."
"Had to be an exaggeration," Ronon said.
"You don't know that," McKay shot back. "Even if it's not an actual cannon, I'd rather not find out what kind of weapon can terrify an entire town."
Ronon snorted and finished his stew. "Can't be Wraith," he said the Sheppard. "People should be easy to deal with."
"Did you not hear the part where these people have a cannon?" McKay hissed.
"Rodney is right," Sheppard replied. "It might be nice to know what we're dealing with first."
The pounding on the awning outside increased as the rain came down harder.
Ronon sat back in his chair, watching the men in the room as Sheppard and Teyla finished eating. Logan sat at the end of the bar nursing his second beer. Everyone else in the room sat either watching the swinging doors or with their heads bowed. Rance stood with his arms braced on the bar and the club within easy reach. Addie had disappeared.
Ronon heard a clatter of running footsteps outside. The men seated at the nearby tables jerked upright, trading fearful glances with their neighbors, until Logan's burly deputy pushed through the swinging doors.
"Ezra," Logan called and waved from the bar.
Ezra waved back, shook the rain from his coat, and hurried to the bar.
"What's going on out there?" Logan asked with a nod at the doors.
Ezra waved a dismissive hand. "I was in the office," he said, pulling a rolled paper from his coat pocket. "I was checking on that hunch I told you about."
"You are supposed to be standing watch," Logan growled. "I told you this hunch of yours could wait."
Ezra shoved the roll into Logan's hands. "No, it can't. You need to see this. This could solve all of our problems."
Logan stared at Ezra for a moment, then took the roll, uncurled it, and studied the paper. His eyes narrowed as he shuffled to a second paper.
The filmy paper was only semi-opaque and roughly ten inches square. Ronon only had to glance at the paper to recognise the black and white image of McKay standing looking to one side. Writing in various dialects covered the edges of the sheet.
"Well, well, well," Logan said, glancing from the paper to McKay.
Ronon glanced at Teyla, and from her concerned expression, he knew she recognised the sheet too.
"Colonel," Teyla started to say but was interrupted when Logan stood and walked over to their table.
Ronon rested his hand on the butt of the particle weapon.
"I told you I never forget a face," Logan said to McKay, slapping one of the papers on the table. "Seems you're wanted for crimes against the Genii."
Ronon unholstered the particle weapon and held it low at his side.
"Really?" McKay stared from the image of himself to Sheppard. "I, umm, I don't -"
"What the hell is this?" Sheppard asked, picking up the sheet.
"Funny you should ask that," Logan replied, handing Sheppard a second sheet. "Seems the Genii want you too, 'Colonel', if that is even your actual rank. Get up, both of you."
"Umm, why?" McKay asked, inching away from Logan.
Ezra walked over to their table with his hand resting on the butt of his gun.
Ronon tightened his grip on the particle weapon. He glanced at Ezra and then Sheppard and caught movement from the corner of his eye as one of the men hurried out of the saloon. Several others stood watching the confrontation with their rifles in their hands.
"You're under arrest," Logan said. He pulled his gun and reached for McKay. "The Genii are willing to pay a handsome reward for the two of you. Maybe enough to solve our other problem."
Ezra unholstered his sidearm and pointed it at Sheppard with a feral grin. "Knew you people were trouble as soon as I saw you walk into town."
"You're crazy if you think the Genii are going to hold up their end of any deal," McKay said. "They have a bad habit of double-crossing people."
"The Genii have always traded fairly with us," Logan replied. "I said get up."
"This is some sort of mistake," Sheppard told Logan. "McKay is right. Whatever is going on around here, the Genii aren't going to help you."
Logan reached for McKay, and Ronon shoved his chair out of the way as he stood. "Don't touch him," he growled, pointing the particle weapon at Logan. He saw McKay's startled expression but ignored him, glaring at Logan instead.
Ezra spun and pointed his weapon at Ronon. "Don't think I won't," he snarled.
Ronon shifted position and pointed the particle weapon at Ezra. "You'd never get the chance."
Rance came around the end of the bar with the club in his hand. The rest of the men in the room inched closer to their table and raised their rifles. Ronon was still calculating the best firing pattern for clearing a path to the door when Sheppard shook his head.
"Ronon. Stand down," Sheppard said. He stared at Logan for a few seconds, then slid his P-90 across the table to Teyla and handed his Beretta to Ronon. "We don't want anyone getting hurt here."
"Starting with us," McKay added.
Ronon ignored McKay, pointed the Beretta at Logan, and kept the particle weapon aimed at Ezra.
"Ronon," Sheppard said again, this time with an edge of command in his tone.
Ronon glowered at Ezra for a few more seconds, then slowly lowered his weapons.
"Ezra," Logan said and motioned him to lower his gun. He turned to the rest of the room and added, "You boys go on back to what you were doin'. Nothin' else to see here."
Rance and the other men took a few steps back, and the men armed with rifles pointed their weapons at the floor. Ezra scowled at Logan but holstered his gun.
"Rodney, give Teyla your sidearm," Sheppard ordered, his gaze never leaving Logan's face.
McKay stood, fumbled for the Beretta, and handed it to Teyla.
"Colonel, are you certain this is the best idea?" Teyla asked, taking the weapon.
Sheppard glanced around the room. "Not sure we have much of a choice," he replied. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."
"We hope," McKay muttered with a glance at Sheppard.
Logan waved his gun toward the door. "Let's go. Nice and easy. You're worth far more to us alive."
"What about these two?" Ezra asked, pointing at Ronon and Teyla.
"We have no quarrel with them," Logan replied. "You're free to go," he said to Teyla. "And I suggest you leave. Before it's too late."
"Ronon, you and Teyla head back to the 'gate," Sheppard said, raising his hands. "I think it's safe to tell Thompson," Ronon heard the slight emphasis on the name, "our trade deal is off."
Teyla studied Sheppard's face for a moment, then nodded. "I believe you are correct, Colonel."
Sheppard nodded and stepped away from the table.
"You too." Logan pushed McKay toward the door. "Move."
"Do you mind?" McKay said with a grunt as he ran into Sheppard's back.
Sheppard glanced back at Ronon, then pushed through the swinging doors. McKay followed him, and Logan brought up the rear of their procession.
"You best be goin'," Ezra said to Ronon with a sneer. "Before I find a reason to arrest you too."
Ronon waited until Ezra left behind Logan, then holstered the particle weapon, stuffed Sheppard's Beretta into one of the duster's pockets, and picked up the P-90.
"We aren't leaving without McKay and Sheppard," he growled in a low voice to Teyla.
"You head Colonel Sheppard," Teyla replied. She gave the room a pointed glance and whispered, "We are to report to Doctor Weir and then return with Sergeant Thompson's team."
Ronon glared at the men still standing with their lowered weapons in their hands. "This plan better work," he growled, leading the way out of the saloon.
