Chapter Forty-Six: Runner


Sunday, 10th September 2000 - Loop Day 036.

Harry stared up at the dome holding back the ocean, the midday sun bearing down upon it and lighting the waters above in a beautiful pattern. But it was more the large whale-shaped creature floating through the water above that drew most of his attention.

They had not explored Lantea much since their arrival, and most of the others were presently busy, off doing other things, so he was enjoying a moment of no responsibility just observing the natural world around them.

He had the urge to jump into one of the many navi they now had access to with those present in the city, but when he detected the large creature above on the sensors, he had to have a look. The database stated that these creatures were called flagisallus, and were a fish rather than the Earth mammal they so closely resembled.

Behind him, he heard the stargate activate and he turned away from the large fish, heading back inside and checking the nearby console that was receiving the data dump from the vulta that had dialled in. He wasn't overly concerned with checking the information right now, but a small anomaly in the transfer did catch his attention.

One of the devices sent to the planet was no longer responding, and according to the console, it had fallen into the event horizon of the wormhole.

Harry sighed. He would need to have the other vulta knock it through into the city so that they could recycle it, otherwise, the stargate would remain active for the full 38-minute window before severing the device leaving it lying there for anyone to find.

Hey, Neville. Harry sent over the mini, waiting for his friend to reply.

"Yeah?" The other boy said, stepping out from behind the ceiling on the ramp up to the navi hangar that Harry had been completely unaware he'd been on.

"Hey. Er, one of the vulta is damaged." Harry said, stepping over to the area in front of the stargate. "It's blocking the wormhole."

"Well, it was bound to happen eventually. We sent out something like a hundred of them." Neville brought up his remote and began to input the required commands to have the working units nudge the faulty model through the wormhole. "What's the next destination? I'll send a spare through once this connection ends."

Harry was about to reply when a figure came rushing through the wormhole, panting heavily and limping quite badly. The man was extremely dirty, covered from head to toe in muck and the smell was what rebooted Harry's mind as the figure seemed to notice them as well.

He pulled a weapon from a holster on his belt right as a blast of blue energy shot out of the wormhole and hit him in the back, sending him splaying onto the floor. The figure rolled as he fell and redirected his weapon at the event horizon. Harry and Neville mirrored him, pulling their own blasters as two Wraith stepped through the wormhole before stopping in surprise.

None of them wasted any time, and the figure, Harry and Neville all opened fire on the Wraith. The first was hit in the face by two powerful energy blasts and knocked back into the event horizon, doomed to be wiped from the buffer unless they decided to save it, while the second managed to duck the one blast aimed at it.

Harry followed its movements, and he was glad they had remodelled the room as the now flat floor prevented it from finding cover. He and the figure trailed after the dodging Wraith with their fire and Harry heard Neville tap away at his remote before the stargate shield engaged and several more objects splashed against it, instantly destroyed.

Carefully aiming and leading the target as Jack had instructed, Harry managed to clip its leg and the Wraith fell face-first to the floor as well. The dirty figure sat up and fired three shots quickly into the fallen Wraith and it screamed in pain before it stilled completely. Walking over towards it, Harry felt the urge to be sure and fired his own shots into the chest, ensuring it was definitely dead.

"Neville, get that wormhole shut down." He yelled over his shoulder, and he heard Neville tapping away at his remote again.

Harry turned to face the now seated figure as he heard the transport cabinet activate. They were sitting on the hard floor of the open room, their weapon pointed squarely at Harry's face. The man was watching him very closely with intelligent dark eyes. His hair was a thick mess of heavily matted dreadlocks, though it was impossible to discern a colour with all the gunk and muck all over it.

Knowing the others were watching, Harry returned his weapon to its holster, keeping his eye trained on the agitated figure before him. "I'm not going to hurt you, so long as you don't try to hurt me or my friends." He said in Alteran, taking his hand away from the gun slowly and hoping the man understood.

"Where am I?" The figure asked in a dialect Harry realized was a derivative of the Alteran that they all now spoke, his voice deep and scratchy, as though he didn't often use it.

"Atlantis."

The figure looked around seemingly confused as he took in his surroundings. He did not lower his weapon and Harry remained still, just watching for the moment as a final object crashed against the shield to his right and the wormhole disconnected.

The man looked over to see Neville standing nearby, also now watching him intently, though Harry hoped he wasn't being threatening.

"This is the City of the Ancestors?"

"Yes. You are welcome to stay for a while if you like. We can get you cleaned up." Harry offered, considering that if this guy was happy to blast Wraith with no questions asked, he was likely not a threat to them unless they made him one. "You look like a nice warm meal would be a welcome option too."

The figure lowered his weapon a fraction, aiming for Harry's chest now instead of his face. "You need to let me leave."

Harry glanced over his shoulder, noting that Luna had joined Neville by the stargate and both were watching him closely.

"Why?" Harry asked, turning back.

"The Wraith are hunting me. If I don't leave, they'll just come in ships. I won't be responsible for the destruction of the City of the Ancestors."

"Hunting you? Is that normal?" Harry queried.

The man seemed to weigh his options before he spoke. "They call us Runners. I don't know if they do it for training or sport. But they are tracking me."

"How do they track you?"

The man watched him closely, clearly judging just how much he could be trusted to know. "There's a device in my back. I tried to reach it, but I can't."

"See. That, we can help with." Harry said with a bright smile. "For starters, this room is shielded out the wazoo. No signal is getting out. If you are willing to trust us, maybe we can help you." Harry said, keeping his hands up and visible. The last time he'd tried talking down an armed opponent, he'd ended up shot. Something he'd rather not repeat, as he was simply in casual attire, not the resistant dragonhide outfits Hermione had made. "Luna. Could you please ask Carson to meet us at the surgery suite?"

"Are you sure?" She replied, clearly wary of this armed man.

"He's no friend of the Wraith." Harry indicated the fallen Wraith nearby. "That makes him a potential friend to us in my book. We can get that thing out of you, and you can rest up for a bit. At that point, stay or leave is up to you. Don't take this the wrong way, but you really look like you could use the help."

The gun aimed at Harry lowered further and he could now see that it bore a remarkable resemblance to the weapons that his own team used. His heart skipped a beat due to panic as he hoped that it was set to stun.

"Why would you help me?"

"You're in need, we have what you need. Why shouldn't we help?"

The man looked around the room again, his eyes drifting over Luna and Neville again before they returned to Harry. "Are you the Ancestors?"

"Sort of yes, but really no. That one is a long story I'd be very happy to share with you over dinner."

"Remove it here." The figure said, unbuckling the high collar of the outfit he was wearing with his free hand. It looked similar to the one worn by the nearby dead Wraith, but it had obviously been altered and customized over time.

"I don't think Carson will like that. He's a great surgeon, but…"

"Here or not at all." The man said, raising the gun again.

"Alright. Easy." Harry said, taking a few steadying breaths. "Luna?"

He could hear the reluctance in Luna's voice as she keyed the radio on the remote Neville held up to her while he kept a keen watch on their guest, relaying the request to Carson. Harry hoped that the Doctor wouldn't delay too much.

ϟ

Carson activated the transport cabinet with his surgery bag in hand. Hermione was by his side in the small space and he did not like the look on her face. Nor did he like the idea of performing surgery on an armed man holding Harry at gunpoint.

As he stepped out between the opening doors, he spotted the standoff. Luna and Neville were watching carefully, Neville holding his own weapon pointed at the floor as the two watched the scene silently. Over by where the stairs had once stood was Harry, his back to them as he waited arms raised in front of the hunched armed man on the floor.

"Carson? Is that you?" Harry said, not turning around.

"Aye. I hear I have a patient." He replied, slowly approaching the two men.

"That we do. I'd give you his name, but we've not really gotten that far yet."

Carson paused several feet away as the man remained seated, staring at Harry over the top of his weapon. "Specialist Ronan Dex."

"Hi," Harry replied with a short wave. "I'm Harry Potter, this is Doctor Carson Beckett, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and unless I don't know her at all, my girlfriend Hermione Granger."

Carson glanced at the girl and she glared at Harry for a moment before turning her attention to Ronan. "If you lower your weapon, we can get started." He asked cheerily.

"That wasn't part of the deal," Ronan replied, still not turning from Harry.

"I'm told this tracker is in your back. It's going to be very hard to operate if you're going to sit there hunched like that the entire time."

"Then let's hope you're a good doctor, Doctor," Ronan replied, his eyes flicking momentarily from Harry to Carson himself and the doctor gulped nervously.

Carson could practically feel the explosion waiting to happen just to his right as Hermione stewed on the comment.

"Harry?" She asked, her tone far tighter than Carson had ever heard.

"I think he's a friend. He just needs a show of good faith on our part." Harry replied.

"I don't like it. One slip…" Hermione said.

"A little faith lass. I'm a better surgeon than that." Carson defended.

Harry stared resolutely at the man, directly in the eyes as he spoke. "I've trusted him with my own life before. I swear to you, you're in safe hands. Carson Beckett is quite possibly the most talented surgeon in this entire galaxy."

Ronan finally looked away from Harry, his eyes fixing on Carson and Hermione beside him. "We going to do this?"

Carson took a steadying breath and tried to ignore Harry's comment. Had he not already seen the sorts of situations his young friends tended to get into, this might have thrown him a bit more than it was.

"Aye." He took two steps forwards before the gun shifted in his direction.

"What's in the case?"

"My surgical tools. A scanner. Anaesthetic, disinfectant..."

"Open it and slide it over first."

"Look, Ronan. Carson here is a sworn doctor. On our original homeworld, he swore an oath to heal all. He'd do so even if you were our enemy, and I seriously don't think you are. This whole thing can be an ordeal at every step, or we can all work together and get it resolved quickly and painlessly."

"You're not from here?"

"Like I said, it's a really long story. As I'm sure your own is."

"I've got time," Ronan replied, staring at Carson who had still not moved.

Harry gave a weary sigh and nodded to Carson. Beckett leant down, laying the metal case on the floor before he opened it and gave it a firm shove. It slid over and Ronan stopped it with his outstretched foot. He peered inside and seemed satisfied that there were no tricks.

Harry waved Carson over and Hermione followed. "Leave the weapons." Ronan stated, his eyes falling to Hermione's waist.

"Please do as he asks," Harry said and Carson knew that the lad would be enduring a long conversation with his girlfriend later from the look she was directing at him as she complied, tossing the weapon over to Luna. Carson did not feel the need to point out that she had retained her wand, or why that was just as effective a weapon.

Harry rolled his shoulder and very carefully lowered to his knees before plonking on his bum on the floor as well, tracked the entire way by the weapon being held on him once again as Carson rounded behind the man. Ronan shrugged off the upper section of his tunic, switching the blaster to his other hand and leaving his upper torso bare.

Carson glanced up as he lifted out the scanner and saw two rough scars near the man's spine. "My god, man. Please tell me that you didn't try to remove this thing yourself."

"Tried a few months back with a mirror. Couldn't quite reach it. Considered finding a doctor, but I haven't really had the time."

Carson shook his head as he held the scanner in place, waving it slowly back and forth over the scars, getting a detailed read of Ronan's torso. He tapped on his remote and an emitter on his shoulder overlaid a hologram of the internals. He could see the small device in the soft tissue by the spinal column.

It had three short metallic legs stretching out from a small disc shape, the legs having embedded in the tissue around the disc. He circled Ronan, scanning from the side as well and noted that there were tentacle-like filaments coming off the underside and stretching out towards the spine. But mostly, it was the slightly undulating teeth on the bottom of the disc that really disturbed him.

"Alright, I've located the tracker. Now, you'll need to lie down…"

"No," Ronan replied.

"Look," Carson said, tapping his remote and displaying the hologram in front of Ronan, "this little bugger is right by your spine, that would be a difficult procedure at the best of times. But see these?" He indicated the filaments. "If any of those are actually wrapped around your spinal cord, I could cripple you if I'm not careful. If you still want to be able to walk tomorrow, you lie down and do as your damned well told, alright?"

Carson wondered where the courage to say the last had come from as Ronan turned to glare at him. The man scowled and Carson hoped the others could keep him from attacking.

Without a word, the man shifted uneasily until he was lying flat on the floor. His right arm remained outstretched and the gun was still pointed at Harry the entire time.

Carson sighed at the lack of trust, but at least accepted that the man had listened somewhat. "Thank you. Hermione, some light please."

The girl touched the wand still concealed in her sleeve and conjured a ball of light that hovered above Ronan's back. Carson knelt by Ronan's side and pulled an anaesthetic spray from his case, sure that the man would refuse to take a general. He sprayed it over the area and the muscles twitched before going numb.

"What did you do to me?" Ronan asked, moving to sit up, but slipping as his right shoulder now no longer responded properly.

"Relax, big man. It's an anaesthetic. I'm not about to cut into your back without it."

"What?"

"It numbs the area so you don't feel the knife cutting through your skin. Part of the 'do no harm' bit." Harry said, from in front. "Now do you want him to explain every single step, distracting him, or do you want to let him focus on his work so he doesn't kill or cripple you?"

Ronan growled but remained in place.

Carson slipped on his gloves and held them out for Hermione to sterilize. The spell splashed over him and he nodded his thanks as he leaned down and picked up the scalpel. He noticed a sudden relief on his knees and glanced down to see the floor still looked the same, but Hermione gave him a wry smile and cast something else at her own knees. Carson nodded his thanks and leaned in, beginning his first incision.

Ronan groaned, obviously still able to feel something despite the anaesthetic.

"So you wanted to hear our story," Harry said, drawing the man's attention away from Carson's efforts. "Do you want the long or short version?"

"Depends on how long this is going to take," Ronan replied, trying to remain still as the doctor worked.

"Carson's the best doctor I've ever met. So we'll probably only have time for the short version for now." Harry took a deep breath and began to explain their story slowly. "We come from a planet called Earth. It's in a nearby galaxy we call Avalon. We uncovered our 'Ancestral' heritage about a year and a half ago and have been working to build our new society, sort of in their image. We have a new home on a planet called Verda, also in Avalon. We came here last month to try and fix the city up. Bring it back to its former glory."

Harry's slow narration helped ease Carson's nerves as he worked, gradually reaching the tracker itself in the now open wound. "There's the wee bugger. More light?" Carson asked, and Hermione somehow made the inner edges of the wound light up, casting light perfectly into the space. "Thank you, dear."

"We had a flyby from the Wraith about a week ago," Harry continued, as though Carson hadn't interrupted, "but they didn't seem to notice us. We were just getting our bearings here when you used our vulta's wormhole to sneak inside."

"Vulta?" Ronan asked, holding remarkably still given Carson was currently operating on him.

"Tiny little flying ball that sends us data about a planet. We had three on the world you were on. They can cloak, become invisible."

"That's what it was?" Ronan asked, hissing the final 's' slightly as Carson began to extract the legs from his tissues.

"What was?" Harry questioned, keeping the man's attention away from the surgery.

"The Wraith almost had me there. When I saw the Ring of the Ancestors activate, I figured I was about to be trapped by incoming reinforcements, but it was dialled from this end. No one was by the clavis, so I had no idea how."

"The vulta have a clavis built into them, so they can remotely dial home and send back information."

"Once I figured that the Ring led off-world, I figured I'd take my chances. At the least, it made a choke point they'd have to use to follow me. One of them clipped my leg with a stunner. But another had aimed for my head. Something was in the way though. The shot just disappeared in mid-air and something hit the portal while I took cover and tried to get my leg working enough to get through."

"That explains the malfunction," Harry said, nodding.

"I was pinned down for a minute, but eventually I managed to slip through. Found myself here."

Carson only partially listened to the tale, more focused on his work as he freed the third leg and carefully turned the small disc over. He could see the filaments extending outwards, deeper into the tissue, and the small teeth on the underside seemed to chew at the air, searching for purchase.

"Hermione?" He asked, indicating the device. She used her now fully removed wand to carefully hold the device in place.

Carson lifted a pair of short-tipped scissors and severed each of the tiny filaments in turn, each one surging in activity for a moment as it was cut. The teeth increased in activity as if the device was trying its best to resist his attempts to remove it.

"Your gun is a lot like our own," Harry said, his eyes watching the progress from his slightly higher position. "Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift. I saved a small group of people from a Wraith attack. Their leader gave it to me as thanks but he wouldn't let me come with them. They climbed aboard a ship and left me behind."

Carson severed the last filament and Hermione raised the twitching disc out of the wound. Watching them as closely as Harry was, Luna used the matter converter to make a small container and Hermione dropped the disc inside and sealed the lid immediately. Carson returned his attention to the wound and began to carefully trace each of the still-twitching filaments, intending to remove them all.

"How'd you get started as a Runner?" Harry asked, evidently noticing that things weren't done and deciding he needed to distract Ronan a little longer.

The man sighed and Carson froze as his body rose significantly as the deep breath filled his lungs. "They captured me during a culling on my world. One of the Wraith tried to feed on me, but it stopped for some reason. Operated and put that thing in my back, then dropped me on a planet and started hunting. That was two years ago."

"You've been on the run for two years?" Neville asked, dumbfounded.

"Pretty sure. It's hard to keep track sometimes. Running from world to world."

Carson carefully extracted one after another of the filaments and silence fell over the room as he worked to extricate the last one. It was deeper than the others and he worried it reached the spine.

He pulled the scanner out again and double-checked exactly how deep it went and was relieved to see it stopped mere millimetres from the bone. He grasped the end with his tweezers and slowly pulled it free, the tentacle swishing about as it came away from the flesh.

"There we go, that's the last of it. Feel up to closing?" He asked Hermione.

She nodded and waved her wand in a complex pattern. Carson watched, still in awe as the magic wove the flesh back together as though the wound had never even been there. If only all surgeries were so easily finished. Hermione had even removed the scars from Ronan's own attempts at removing the tracker.

"Alrighty, you're all good there," Carson said, leaning back on his heels, thankful that things had gone so smoothly, given the odd situation.

Ronan immediately tried to push back into a seated position and Hermione tracked him with her wand.

"So, we kept our end of the deal. Can I put my hands down now?" Harry asked. "They're getting kind of heavy being up this long."

Ronan glanced at the two figures by his shoulders, his eyes tracking the stick in Hermione's hand as he gave a confused look. But he finally lowered the gun, setting it back into the holster on his leg.

"You mentioned dinner," Ronan said, and Harry laughed at the sudden change.

"Now you mention it, I'm a little hungry myself. Come with me." Harry said, standing once more and holding out his hand to help the gruff man to his feet.

ϟ

Monday, 11th September 2000.

Ronan's eyes opened slowly, his other senses taking in his surroundings first as he was immediately thrown by the comfort underneath him. It was unusual to feel so well rested, normally he was operating on barely any sleep, or being kept awake for days at a time by hunts.

Seeing the walls of the City of the Ancestors, he sat up in the bed, casting his eyes about the room. He recalled how Harry had offered him a much bigger room, but he had declined, preferring something small. Something securable.

He had checked the room, and found he could secure the door to his satisfaction, only then could he relax. These Aetherial were accommodating, but still mostly unknown.

He carefully pulled himself out of the bed, pulling his gun from under the pillow as he did. Stepping over to what Harry had shown him was the window the night before, he swiped his hand over the panel and watched the window fade from opaque to transparent.

Outside, he could see the scope of the City he found himself in. It didn't really look any different than what he'd seen at a distance before he had fallen asleep, as not much light penetrated the ocean above. And yet, the reality of his situation began to cement itself. He rolled his shoulder and was amazed at how much better it felt. The usual pinch was not there, and he had an even greater range of motion now, though he had no idea how removing the tracker had led to that.

Turning away from the window, he noticed a pile of clothes had been laid out for him. Which concerned him given the still barricaded door. They were unlike any he had seen before, a soft shimmering fabric that was more comfortable even than his bed. He wasn't a fan of their pale colouration, as it would make it hard to remain hidden in most situations, but for now, they would do. He slipped into them, feeling far better after using the weird cleaning facilities the night before.

On the desk near the doorway, he saw a plate that had been provided with several varieties of food. Used to going for days without when he was unable to trap something during a lull in the hunts, it was weird to have fresh food just left there waiting for him. Especially when he had no idea how the others had gotten it inside the room. Not that he let that stop him from consuming it, after giving it a quick sniff. He would need his strength for when he moved on.

Once again nursing a full stomach, Ronan disassembled the barricade and headed out of the room, seeing the empty hallways leading away. He wondered where the others were, but for the moment, he was enjoying the solitude. He picked a direction randomly and headed off, exploring the expanse of the city.

He knew that he was in the main tower as any direction he walked tended to cycle back on itself quickly. And he soon found himself back in the room with the Ring of the Ancestors. The room was just as empty as when he had arrived, with only a single visible figure seated at the nearby control console.

"Morning," Harry said, not even turning to see who it was.

When Ronan did not reply, Harry finally turned and smiled at him. "How did you sleep?"

"Good," Ronan replied simply. He was not one to waste words. He preferred action over discussion. A sentiment that had only grown in his two years on the run.

"Good. Happy with the room? We have bigger ones if you want."

"It's fine."

Harry smiled again and Ronan found the boy strange. He was at least a decade younger than Ronan himself, and yet he seemed to be the one in charge. Everyone else followed his orders, not without question, but they still obeyed in the end.

The Ring activated suddenly, and Ronan drew his weapon, expecting more Wraith to come through confirming his words that they would find him.

"Easy there," Harry said. "I opened it."

Ronan lowered his weapon and stared at the Ring. "You want me to leave?"

"What? No. I'm keeping tabs on the Wraith scouring that planet you were on." Harry explained, indicating a display hovering above his console showing tiny dots moving about.

"You can do that?"

"Sure. Come and I'll show you." Harry said, waving him closer and swinging the spare chair closer for him to use.

Ronan tucked his weapon away and walked over, climbing onto the chair backwards and leaning forwards to see.

"This is an aerial view. Each of the dots is a Wraith searching the forest. The arrows are… I don't actually know what they're called. Small pointy one-person ships."

"On Sateda we called them Darts, because of the shape. They were the ones that took people up to the Hives."

"Right, Darts it is. Each of the arrows is one of them. Seems like they want you back pretty badly." Harry finished, turning to look at him again. "Don't worry. We aren't handing you over. As I said, you are welcome to stay here as long as you want to. Hermione and Luna went over your tracker to see how it worked, but they destroyed it for good this morning…"

"How is this possible?" Ronan asked, interrupting Harry as he watched the image change as the various Wraith searched for him.

"The little ball things I told you about, the vulta." Harry tapped the console and in front of the Ring a small hole appeared before a tiny ball shot up into the air and hovered over to them. He tapped a few more commands and it slowly circled them and a new screen appeared in the air in front of Ronan, showing his own face.

He silently watched as the screen showed the image silently rotating around watching him the entire time. Thinking about his arrival, he shucked the right shoulder of his shirt and watched as the ball circled again. He could see the spot where the tracker had been, but it was just fresh clean skin. There was no sign of any scar at all.

"How?"

"Hermione is a whizz with a wand. Even when she's angry."

"A wand?"

"Right. As I mentioned, we are intermingled descendants of the Ancestors, just like your people most likely are. They bred with the native peoples of our world at some point in the past. On the planet we were born, some people developed the ability to control a force that they called magic. Though Hermione doesn't think it was the intermingling that made it happen, as a lot of non-magic folks are descended from the Ancestors too. Those of us that have magic do so through the use of wands," Harry said, pulling a stick from his left sleeve.

With a few waves, a glass of water appeared on the console in front of Ronan. He looked at it warily before he picked it up. It felt as solid as anything he'd ever touched. He lifted the glass to his face and sniffed. The contents smelt like regular water. He looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye before he took a sip. It tasted just like water too. He gulped the rest down in an instant and placed the glass back on the console. With another wave, Harry made it disappear.

"Can you fight with that?"

"If I have to. We fought a war over magic."

"You've been in a war?" Ronan asked, barely believing it. Even on Sateda, he would be too young to actually join such a fight, and they often gifted military toys to their youth. And Ronan's grandfather had instructed him in hand-to-hand combat at the age of six, shortly before he succumbed to the Second Childhood.

"If you believe in prophecy, I was born for it," Harry said, his voice sounding a little bitter. "I might tell you about it sometime, but for the most part, I try not to think about it. We lost a lot of good people."

Harry instantly looked miles away and Ronan now had no trouble believing it. Only someone who suffered true hardship could look like that. He felt flashes of his own troubled past boil up in his mind until he pushed them back down where they belonged.

"My homeworld, Sateda… it was destroyed. It wasn't a normal culling. The Wraith had determined we were a threat and they tried to wipe us out. We fought back hard, but it was ultimately pointless. That was where they captured me. It was the worst day of my life." Ronan said quietly, his mind drifting to Melena for a moment.

"Did you want to return home?" Harry asked, watching him.

Ronan squashed the last of his memories before he considered the offer. He didn't know whether he could return, but the idea definitely held an appeal. "You can do that?"

"If you know the address. We can send a vulta. Make sure it's safe."

The Ring disconnected as Harry operated the console. A moment later, a panel to Ronan's left lit up and he recognized the symbols on it. He glanced at Harry who gestured for him to enter the address on the nearby clavis panel. Ronan did so, hammering in the address for his homeworld and the Ring activated once more.

Suddenly, the tiny ball whizzed past his head and Ronan's hand twitched for his weapon before the thing shot through the puddle and vanished.

"Sorry. I didn't check where it was before I gave it the command." Harry said as the two turned to look at the screen that was still showing what the vulta was seeing.

The tiny orb swept over the central square of the city, where the Ring of the Ancestors was located around which his people had built their city over the centuries. As it rose into the air, higher and higher, it became evident that there was no one around. There was debris in the streets, and even the nearby buildings were cracked and decaying.

Ronan's heart sank as the orb cleared the nearby buildings and he caught sight of the distant capitol building. Almost every structure between the orb and it bore significant signs of damage, some blasted open to the sky, others collapsed entirely. He could even see where he had lost his betrothed forever.

He hung his head, the evidence plain to see. Sateda was no more.

"I'm sorry, Ronan," Harry said softly.

"It's fine." Ronan lied, trying to hide the pain he was feeling. He was alone in the galaxy.

"As I said, you can stay here as long as you please," Harry said, entering a handful of commands before he deactivated the Ring again. "I've sent a dozen vulta through to do a thorough scan. If there is anything to be found, they will find it."

Harry stood and Ronan saw the boy's weapon on his thigh. He was struck by the similarity to his own, which he recalled getting from the Traveller captain. "Where did you get yours?" He asked, trying to distract himself from his grief by focusing on something he enjoyed.

Harry glanced at him before following his eyeline. He smiled before he pulled it free of its holster and handed it to Ronan, who took it with a weird look. Not used to someone handing him their weapon so casually.

"I made them," Harry said proudly.

Ronan inspected the weapon and found it had several refinements over his own. He aimed it at the nearby wall and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He looked at the weapon again, searching for a safety to disable. Flicking it off, he tried again but still nothing happened.

"What?"

"There are so few of us, I made each one so that it can only be fired by the person it is made for," Harry said with a shrug, holding out his hand.

Ronan placed the gun into his grip and Harry turned and fired at the same wall. It was only set to stun, so it just left a dark smear of energy on the wall, but it was definitely powerful.

"So you really are the Ancestors?" Ronan said.

"No. We're human, like you. Several of us can cast magic. Hermione, myself, Luna, Neville, Padma, Parvati and Aurora. But Carson, Elizabeth and Hermione's parents are all what we called muggles. Cyla is the only one of us who is actually an Ancestor."

"Cyla?"

"The redhead from dinner. We're pretty sure that she was born in this city back when it was on Earth back in Avalon. She is several million years old."

Ronan was surprised that he'd had a meal with one of the real Ancestors. And the design of this city was unlike anything he had ever seen before. These people were capable of building powerful weapons. One of them had even mentioned a spaceship orbiting above the planet. Perhaps…

"What do you intend to do about the Wraith?" He asked, leaning back and holding the back of the chair to prevent himself from toppling off the back.

Harry sighed and sat once again, turning to face him fully. "To be completely honest, we haven't decided yet. But from our minimal experience so far, I don't think they will give us a choice in the matter."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, they chased the Ancestors out of the galaxy by overwhelming them with numbers. We are less than a dozen people. I don't see how we can be any more successful in a war than our predecessors. But, personally, I think we should do whatever we can to free this galaxy from them."

"You'll fight them?"

"I can't speak for all of us. But I know Luna already wants them gone. Hermione isn't a big fan either. We saw inside one of their supply ships." Harry paused and was obviously trying not to think about what he had seen. "We've yet to encounter one of these Hive ships you mention."

Ronan considered his options for a moment before he spoke again. "You say I can stay?" Harry nodded. "I'll stay if you plan to take the fight to the Wraith and drive them out of this galaxy."

Harry dropped his head and Ronan saw he was considering the demand. It was now obvious to him that his best option in fighting back against those who destroyed his planet were these people. They just needed to hone their nerve.

"I can make you no promises. It will need to be a group decision."

"You're their leader."

"I am the High Councilor, yes. But we make decisions that affect all of us as a group. In fact, we are due to have a council meeting this afternoon. I'd like you to be there to argue your case. For the moment, talk to Cyla. Maybe she can help. She has lost her people too."

Ronan was disappointed that Harry wouldn't commit, but could understand. Even on Sateda, such a decision would have been made by the entire ruling council. He nodded his agreement and stood, turning away without another word and intending to work his way down the tower, looking for somewhere he could run off the anger he was feeling right now.