SGAT

CHAPTER 25: Smokeout

SGAT

John managed to keep on his feet when Ronon pulled him from the bed but that didn't mean he didn't sway a bit. Randomly recalled his family's housekeeper warning him, 'If you are a lazy bones too long, your bones won't work anymore.' Maybe she had been right because his legs felt like were made of water instead of bone. Heck, his whole world seemed like it was riding on a wave, tilting, and surging up and down. He threw a hand out and latched onto Ronon's sleeve for dear life so he didn't go down into the depths and never resurface.

Surprised when John reached out to him, used him to anchor himself, Ronon shot his friend a worried look, saw that Sheppard's face had lost any meager color it had and he was staggering minimally to stay on his feet. He feared that Sheppard would pass out, instead Sheppard proved he was a soldier through and through.

"Don't suppose you brought a spare weapon for me?" John posed, seeing that Ronon's favorite weapon was in the Satedan's hand.

Ronon gave a small smile to his stubbornly resilient leader before he reached in his hair and pulled out a small dagger that had been hidden in the knotted bun. He didn't just hand the dagger to Sheppard but went so far as to put it in John's free hand and coil his friend's weak fingers around its handle.

"I was hoping for something bigger, that had a greater chance of taking down more than one guy, but ok. I can work with this," John quipped, trying to wave away the smoke that was getting denser.

Noting that the light gleaming from Ronon's gun was orange, on the kill setting, John shifted his fingers from clinging to Ronon's sleeve to looping around Ronon's bicep. Though his feeble grip was akin to a spaghetti noodle being used to restrain a Rhino, Ronon's loyalty had him stopping and looking to his leader and friend for his orders. "I know they seem really set on killing us, but if we kill one of theirs…it starts a full out war."

Ronon's eyes flared with opposition, not to John's orders but his leader's charitable assessment of the people trying to kill them. "Maybe war is unavoidable. They've shown they place no value on human life. Sheppard, they killed our people on Atlantis and look how they've treated you! And right now, they are trying to burn us alive."

"I'm betting it's a radical few. And maybe it's more like just BBQ smoking us a bit for seasoning. Besides, if I remember correctly, our first meeting wasn't so friendly. Let's just say first contacts aren't always a good judge of how a relationship might blossom given time…and no more bloodshed." When Ronon steely eyed expression didn't change, John moderated, "Fine. But put killing down as a last resort. I'd still like to turn things around."

"Hard to negotiate if we're dead," Ronon darkly pointed out, breaking into coughs as the smoke wafted down upon them.

"Ok, so then we don't die," John declared like it was a done deal now that he'd decided it. Ronon didn't need to know in John's head the phrasing was more like 'So Ronon doesn't die.' Because John might have come to terms with his own imminent death, but there was no way he was letting Ronon get killed by these people, possible future allies or not.

Falling back into his soldier mentality, Sheppard strategized amid his own smoke induced coughing, "Front door's a no go… so how about you make a nice exit in that wall," pointing with his hand grasping the knife to the back wall behind the bed.

Accepting John's sound plan, Ronon moved the bed aside, cleared a path to the wall which would soon have a gaping hole in it thanks to his gun. When he'd moved, he had to disconnect Sheppard's hold on his arm, now he reached over, grabbed John's arm and draped it over his shoulder. Using his own arm around Sheppard's waist, he cinched John to his side so the ill man could lean against him. Set in their preparatory stance for departure, Ronon looked to Sheppard, "Ready?"

"We break free from the hostile crowd, without killing them, and go left," John outlined. "Follow the wooded path toward where they park their ship. Seems like there was a thicker forest beyond there we can hide in." But the very idea of him walking that far, let alone trying to run it, sounded ludicrous to John. His failing body proved its unwillingness to obey even the simplest commands when, the next second, his legs crumbled under him. It was only Ronon's strength that kept him off the dirt floor. Slumping weakly against Ronon, John modified his plan, "On second thought, don't wait for me. You go for the landing zone and see if you can hijack the ship when Kannar comes back. I'll be the distraction. This pitchfork mob just wants me after all."

Ronon didn't agree to the ludicrous, out-of-the-question plan of Sheppard's but instead he bent over and swept John off the ground.

"Hey!" John protested as he found himself draped over Ronon's shoulders in a fireman's carry. "Not the plan."

"But it's mine," was Ronon unrepentant retort before he commanded, "Hang on." Felt John's hands obediently latch onto his shirt front and back before he fired a shot into the wall that blew a hole right through it. Then he was charging through the hole, ducking down to avoid the flames licking off the roof and praying they didn't both die by a hail of bullets once they were out of the house. But whatever happened next, he was resolute that he was going to fight with his last breath to save John. And no slim hope for a peaceful alliance with these people would stay his hand if it came down to one of the villager's lives or Sheppard's. Some choices were made the moment a friendship was forged, like his and John's had been.

Luckily no one thought to guard the back of the house, so Ronon and John's departure didn't include a firing squad. But the boom of Ronon's gun brought people running to their position fast. Switching his gun to stun, Ronon incapacitated the first two men that rounded the corner as he began to run toward the path John had indicated. He shot another villager as his long legs ate up the distance to the wooded trail. Then he was pounding down the trail, hoping to not catch his head or John's limbs on any low hanging branches.

Ronon heard their pursuers behind them but thankfully no one was shooting at them. From what he'd observed of the village, only the community's soldiers were equipped with modern weapons, the rest of the villagers were left to using knives, bows and arrows and apparently fire to take on any foes. Ronon knew the ship's LZ wasn't that far ahead but wasn't familiar with the forest beyond it, how thick it was, if it butted up against a lake that would cut off their escape or if it was a wide expansion of forest. Wished he'd been allowed to do a little reconnaissance, but his concern had been for John, for ensuring he was protected in his vulnerability.

Seeing the sunlight lighting up the trail ahead, Ronon knew they were close to the clearing. But then his instincts twinged with warning a moment before a knife embedded itself into his thigh, proving that they weren't alone in the woods. Stumbling and trying not to go down, especially to not drop Sheppard, Ronon shot randomly in the forest on his right and left as he limped forward.

"Put me down! Now Ronon!" Sheppard ordered but he didn't dare jostle Ronon by struggling. Was kind of like thinking it was a good idea to knock out the driver of a speeding car, it kinda doomed your own survival.

With his injury, they weren't going to be able to run their way out of the ambush so Ronon couldn't see the benefits of not following Sheppard's order. Bending down, he put John on his feet. Spared a moment to yank the knife from his leg before he grabbed John's elbow and began pulling him behind him as they abandoned the trail to dodge through the trees. But "dodge" was too enthusiastic a description for their motion, more like stumbling from one tree's support to another.

John wasn't surprised when a familiar voice called out from the surrounding woods. "You had more days to live than I wanted to offer you. Hope you made the most of them," Olpwen's smug voice echoed among the trees.

"Oh you know, I could have done with a sports illustrated, some beer, maybe a televised football game," John answered back, silently motioning for Ronon to go left while he went right. But Ronon's opposition to splitting up was like a shout even when he didn't say anything. So John had to whisper his order, "I'm the bait, you're the hunter," before Ronon gave a nod in agreement. Leaving John wasn't an option for Ronon, but protecting John while ensnaring their prey was Ronon's version of a successful away mission.

When Ronon melted into the forest to his left, John parked himself on the ground and leaned back against a tree. Heard the rustling of tree leaves caught on the breeze and the unnatural crack of twigs breaking under footfalls. He clutched tighter to Ronon's knife as he slid his hand under a blanket of downed leaves on the ground, concealing it from view. Called out to Olpwen, "Guess it was just my bad luck to run into the ambush you had set up for Kannar, huh?" Didn't believe Olpwen missed the BBQ of him without purpose, without furthering his coup. The man clearly wanted to take out or arrest Kannar when he only had one soldier with him and unarmed Atlanteans.

"I should be grateful to you for coming here," Olpwen's smug voice was closer now to John's position. "Kannar's obvious affinity for your kind helped sway enough villagers to see that he and his father are no longer working to give our people what they need the most."

"A karaoke night? Bingo? Or wait, a moral compass?" John threw out snide guesses before he settled on the winner. "But what your people really need most is to get rid of shortsighted men like you," this he said to Olpwen's face as the man had come out of the woods, trailed by two of his followers, a man and a woman. John looked at them with pity before he fixed his disgusted gaze back to Olpwen. "Men like you who hold thousand-year-old grudges that will keep your people using thousand-year-old methods of living. Fire, knives, no modern medicine, no trade with other societies. Your people once lived in Atlantis, had the best technology of the galaxy, helped build it, maintain it and now you want your people to barely exist, do it primitively. Why? Because you're afraid? Afraid of betrayal again…or that your people won't need you anymore. Will realize that you've kept them in bondage a hell of a lot longer than the Ancients ever did."

At that accusation, Olpwen revealed the gun that was in his hand, raised it to sight on John's head.

Ronon, not having a clear shot through the thick foliage, burst out from the woods behind Olpwen and tackled the man to the ground before he could shoot John. Meanwhile, John threw his concealed knife, knocking the knife from Olpwen's male follower's hand. Wisely, the woman follower dropped her knife and held her hands out to her side showing that she wasn't a threat to them any longer.

Pinning Olpwen bodily to the ground, Ronon rammed his gun muzzle under the man's chin. "I really want to kill you," he growled. "I'll happily do it if you don't drop the gun."

The gun fell from Olpwen's trembling hand and Ronon purposely kicked it to John, who quickly picked it up and sighted it on the two followers for good measure.

Olpwen's breath was hitching as he stammered, "You kill me…and ..and any alliance…"

"Maybe I don't care to ally myself with your kind," Ronon hissed, yanking the man to his feet as he stood up. Then the straggler supporters of Olpwen were coming toward them through the woods.

"Step any closer and he dies," Ronon warned, his gun pressed to Olpwen's neck.

"Or you all die," John added his own threat to Ronon's, his gun lethally pointing their way. And he wasn't bluffing. If they made a threatening move against Ronon, he would kill them. Ronon's life was more valuable than any alliance.

The double threat brought the four people to a stop. They hadn't expected their own lives to be on the line with their little rebellion. Apparently Olpwen had sugercoated how all this would end.

"Now drop your weapons," Ronon commanded, because, though none of them had guns, he wasn't keen on him and Sheppard dying by knife wounds either.

Then another voice was shouting, "What's happening? Why have you attacked the Atlanteans?" A moment later Sakar pushed by his villagers that were ringing John and Ronon, came to face off angrily, not with the Atlanteans but Olpwen. "You agreed to try and make an alliance and now you might have destroyed any chance of its success."

"You talk as if this is something any of us want! But it would mean our enslavement again! Our deaths!" Olpwen shouted, loud enough for his followers circling them to hear, hoping to keep them on his side. "All our humble lives can offer the Atlanteans is more numbers to be sacrificed in their war against the Wraith." He pointed to Sheppard with hatred, "He said it now, that we live primitively compared to all the technological luxuries they have in Atlantis. What need have they of us? Why broker this "Peace" unless they tend to use our memories just as the Ancients did. To make weapons, to ensure that Atlantis survives even if it costs our people their lives."

Ronon, still holding Olpwen prisoner, interjected sardonically, "Trust me, we're not coming to you for weapons. What can you offer us? Knives, a few rifles and guns. We have better more powerful weapons in Atlantis."

Hoping to turn the tide to positive thinking, John, trying to convince not just Olpwen but his followers, even Sakar, pointed out, "Food, crops, and yes, your familiarity with Atlantis, even the Ancients, that's what you bring to our partnership. And we can offer you access to our medicines, treatments to illnesses and injuries. Heck, we can be on your speed dial if the Wraith show up, manage to circumvent the generator shield protecting your village. We can help each other…or..we can be no better than the Wraith and kill indiscriminately to simply satisfy our own needs. We could wipe out your entire village in an hour or less and take your food, manage your crops. But me, I rather make some more allies, have someone to chat with about how crappy the Ancients were, to tell me how to shut down the 2nd stargate and get our main one up and running."

And it meant something, John admitting to a weakness in Atlantis, trusting them to not exploit it, as did his picture of the lives, the partnership they might forge. It had Olpwen's followers standing down, lowering their knives, no longer poised to fight for Olpwen's worldview. Sakar turned to those people, read their change of hearts and ordered, "Go home. The council will meet and judge your actions," that had them dispersing with fearful but resigned looks.

Turning to Olpwen, Sakar nodded to Ronon in a gesture asking the man to be released. But Ronon's didn't obey, instead his eyes dropped to John, only released Olpwen when John nodded his agreement to Sakar's request. Then Sakar passed judgement on Olpwen. "You know the penalty for inciting sedition. It is among our oldest laws, irrefutable as is a life for a life. Which you too thought to break. If you took their lives," indicating John and Ronon, "who would have died in our village to cover that blood debt?"

Olpwen didn't speak but his eyes brimmed with hatred and Sakar was shaken as he realized, "My son and I. We would have been the payment for the blood debt."

Olpwen's smile was sadistic. "You keep your eyes closed and do not see what is real, what our people have needed from you for so long."

But Sakar had recovered enough to address Olpwen's accusation with surprising agreement. "You are right on that Olpwen. For I would have kept our lives the same as they have been for centuries, fearing to break tradition. It is my son who dared to open his eyes and see what was real, that our people have needed to form alliances, to seek other peoples to trade with, to trust something other than our own ways, our own traditions. That we will die out if we do not change."

"We will die if we change our ways! We have survived this long…" Olpwen protested but Sakar sharply countered his beliefs.

"Only survived..not thrived. We can do better, live fuller lives, believe again in other people..and even ourselves. As Sheppard said, our days of exile have been a self-inflicted punishment. I don't want that for our people any longer."

"I will never support this..this integration. Even the council is divided, no longer trusts your judgement," Olpwen threatened dire consequences.

"You no longer have a vote after your actions today. You no longer have a home here," Sakar decreed and it caused Olpwen's complexion to whiteout, like he hadn't believed that the laws would apply to him. "And I...have decisions to make of my own," Sakar quietly finished, raised his head to the sky overhead as he heard Kannar's ship returning. It made a smile come onto his troubled features, "My son always has impeccable timing."

Then Sakar nodded for Ronon to again take charge of Olpwen before he crouched down by John. "I'm sorry for all the pain my people have caused you."

John shrugged, conceded, "Sometimes I'm a little hard to take."

But Ronon refused to let John take on any of the blame, laid it instead upon Sakar and their invasion. "Sheppard tried to broker peace even after you killed twelve of our people. And you and your people were willing to let him die. Doesn't say much for your sense of justice."

"No, no it doesn't," Sakar conceded, willingly taking on the blame that he knew was his for allowing the bomb to be denoted in Atlantis, for not recognizing that his council was more interested in revenge than even the ZPM for the shield. He hadn't listened to his own son's objections that there was no reason they couldn't steal the ZPM without any lives taken. Maybe he too had harbored notions of revenge. But not his honorable son.

Then as if his thoughts conjured him, Kannar was tramping through the woods to their position, having spotted the activity below as he flew the ship to the clearing. He demanded of his father as he looked down at Sheppard slumped against a tree on the ground. "Do I want to know why Sheppard's out here communing with nature instead of resting and half our village was in the woods with him?"

Choosing that moment to make his reappearance, Ronon stepped from the woods with his prisoner, having hidden until he knew if the one approaching their location was friend or foe. When Kannar saw Olpwen secured in Ronon's chokehold, he sighed with longsuffering dejection. "Oh. Well, now that I've seen the main player, I can guess pretty accurately what's going on."

Seconds later Rodney, Carson and Frata found their way to the little gathering. Carson cursed at seeing John, not safe and sound in the house he'd left him in but the woods, dirty, his face bone white and looking like the tree trunk was the only thing keeping him upright. He bent down beside Sheppard and pressed his fingers against John's neck to track his heartrate.

"Who thought a hike was a good bloody idea?" Carson scathingly said, eyes raking across Ronon, Sakar and Olpwen.

Not wanting to be the target of Carson's wrath, John and Ronon said in synch, "He did" as they pointed to Olpwen.

SGAT

TBC

SGAT

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