Casualties of war

Chapter seventeen

When Cestan walked out of the command post, heading for the hill, and ordered that the prisoners be brought along, Ronon once again had no idea whether or not he was about to die. The odds of him being publicly killed as an example had been waxing and waning for some time. He considered the factors involved in making an escape attempt. Could he tear the whip that bound him out of Kellec's hands before the warrior could turn it on? Was the likelihood of his execution great enough to be worth the risk of losing his hands?

Then Weir fell into step beside Cestan, and Ronon banished any thoughts of trying to escape. He would not risk her safety or that of the military team in order to save himself. In any case, the situation was too tenuous to be disturbed further. He would have to take his chances and stay alert for any change.

"I grant that your allegations may be true, Dr. Weir," said the governor, focused not on her but on the Stargate ahead. "Before I address them, however, there is a matter left undone. I cannot ask my people to believe a group of off-worlders if I allow one to go free after taking up arms against us. Treasonous acts have been committed, and punishment must be delivered."

Ronon had lived under a death sentence for seven years, and so-though it took effort-he didn't flinch at this one. To her credit, neither did Weir. Instead, she immediately took three long steps to outpace Cestan and planted herself in his path.

"That's not acceptable to me, Governor," she said firmly. "At the very least, I request that you delay the execution until after a lasting ceasefire is struck. We can discuss the level of punishment at that time. I'm confident that our assistance here will be significant enough to partially mitigate Ronon's offense."

"I fa lasting ceasefire is struck," Cestan corrected. "I do not share your certainty that Minister Galven will see reason. And I will agree to let you present your case and the raider to him only if you allow my warriors to deliver this one's punishment." A dark gaze, tinted by disdain rather than fury, fixed on Ronon even as he continued to speak to Weir. "He made his choice. If you sincerely want to broker peace on this world, you will stand aside."

Weir stepped away from Cestan to stand in front of Ronon. Although her composure never wavered, her eyes betrayed her conflict. He didn't envy her the terrible quandary she faced. Lives were being lost now, in this moment, and her only chance at bringing it all to a halt was to sacrifice his. Countless unknowns on one side, weighed against one friend on the other.

He knew what the right decision was, and he suspected she did as well. It obviously tore at her soul to contemplate such a thing, so if he could do anything to make it easier for her, he was willing.

"He's right," he said quietly. "I made my choice."

"Ronon," Weir murmured, looking utterly lost. "I can't…"

Barely noticing that she hadn't finished the sentence, Ronon spotted a flash of color from the corner of his eye, making its way across the battlefield on the Nistra side. He struggled for a second to identify it. When he succeeded, a swell of relief overtook him. This was a true, honest opportunity- for all of them.

"You can," he reassured her. "Just for a while."

"For a while? How does that-"

"Ma'am, Governor," Lorne interrupted, apparently every bit as observant as Ronon and looking in the same direction. "Look down there."

As everyone turned to survey the battlefield below, Ronon watched Cestan. The Falnori leader's expression shifted from suspicion to shock and back. "A flag of conference," he said, half to himself.

Lorne drew a small set of field glasses from his vest and peered down at the combatants parting to make way for the banner. The fighting hadn't ceased, but it had slowed. "It's Minister Galven," he stated. "And he's not alone." The Major handed the viewing device to Weir. As soon as she lifted it, the worry fell away from her face.

"It could be a ploy," Kellec pointed out.

"It isn't," declared Weir.

Cestan narrowed his eyes. "How can you be sure?"

She turned to him with a smile born of confidence and poise. "Because I would trust my life to the woman walking beside him."

Her response told Ronon everything he needed to know. Thank you, Teyla.

"Ma'am, you could call her," suggested Lorne, tapping his radio.

That hadn't occurred to Ronon, and it didn't seem to have occurred to Weir, either. She hurried to detach her own radio from her jacket. "Teyla, can you hear me?"

A snap of static quickly yielded to a familiar voice. "I am here, Elizabeth. I have provided some further information to Minister Galven. He is willing to discuss the possibility of a truce. Will Governor Cestan consider a proposal?"

"They should offer surrender, not truce," scoffed Kellec.

The governor waved him silent. "Can you guarantee that the flag of conference will be respected?" he asked Weir.

"I can't," she admitted. "I can, however, offer you the protection of these men." She nodded at the Marines. "Galven took a substantial risk to approach you himself in this manner. I'd consider that a gesture of goodwill."

It seemed obvious that Cestan was less than completely convinced. But certainty wasn't required right now-just an open mind.

"Bring our flag," he ordered a nearby warrior. As the woman hurried off to comply, he turned to Weir. "If the Nistra have plotted to deceive, your man Ronon will not be the only one to suffer punishment."

Weir accepted those terms more readily than Ronon would have; he didn't trust that some overeager Nistra wouldn't take unilateral action. Yet she merely lifted her radio. "We're coming, Teyla. Tell Minister Galven that we especially look forward to introducing him to Sekal, the leader of the Cadre."

After a pause, the response arrived. "I believe that would be very beneficial to all."

"We're on our way."

The flag was obtained and raised on its staff, and at Weir's urging the two Marines not directly guarding Sekal moved to flank Cestan. Kellec tugged Ronon for ward with his whip.

The Falnori stationed on the hilltop gaped at the unexpected procession, but they quickly moved aside in deference to their leader. As the flag moved down the slope toward the battlefield, Ronon scanned the masses of soldiers until he could identify Teyla near the Nistra flag. His eyesight was strong, and he could see her face brighten when she located him in return. He tried to look reassuring, even if he couldn't offer much comfort. Good news: he was still alive, a fact which she'd been given good reason to doubt. Bad news: he was still a prisoner.

Ranks continued to part for them, allowing them passage. Most of the fighting in the vicinity had stopped, combatants edging back toward their respective lines in light of the new development. Cestan's group had almost reached the foot of the hill when a raised bow caught Ronon's attention. He'd spent enough time hunting with the people who made and used those bows to recognize that it was not Falnori.

In an instant, the situation was clear. Just as he'd feared, a Nistra hunter was bearing down on Cestan from behind a group of unwitting Falnori soldiers, ready to become a hero by felling the enemy leader… and in so doing he would destroy any chance this world had of finding peace.

Ronon's instincts had always served him well. When the bow was drawn back to loose its arrow, there was no hesitation-he lunged forward and placed himself in its path.

Sergeant Alderman's shout of warning came too late. Before Elizabeth knew what was happening, Ronon was on the ground at Cestan's feet, an arrow embedded in his shoulder, and a group of Falnori soldiers had seized the arms of a defiant Nistra hunter in the crowd.

The would-be assassin quickly found himself in danger of being mauled by the enraged soldiers. They swarmed around him, fists tangling and shouts mingling until Cestan, in a powerfully resonant voice, commanded: stop! „

His order produced immediate results. The soldiers went silent, keeping hold of the hunter's arms but no longer dispensing their own justice. Cestan, for his part, stared openly down at the off-worlder sprawled in the grass.

All at once Elizabeth's brain snapped back into real time, and she knelt to help Ronon sit up. The whip that had bound his wrists now lay loosely beside him. She pulled the last slackened loops free. "Are you all right?"

Normally that would be a silly question to ask someone with a projectile sticking out from under his collarbone, but this was Ronon, after all.

The Satedan grunted. "Had plenty worse." He reached up to remove it, and she instinctively swatted his hand away.

"Carson will lay into both of us if I let you pull that out." Elizabeth took the field dressing Lorne offered and made a haphazard effort to stop the sluggish bleeding.

A repetitive brush-brush of motion in the grass grew louder before Teyla burst through the circle that had formed around them. The Nistra flag of conference wasn't far behind. "What has happened?" she demanded, flushed from running. "We saw…"

"One of the hunters made an attempt on the governor's life," Kellec informed her, stooping to reclaim his whip from where it had fallen.

Cestan's nod was vague, as if he'd gone elsewhere to assemble his thoughts. "And the off-worlder moved to protect me."

Amazed, the chief warrior made no move to restrain Ronon again. "You're fortunate that I didn't activate my whip on instinct."

"Yeah, I am," Ronon agreed. He answered the unspoken question as well. "Didn't see another way."

Galven and the rest of his entourage showed up then, visibly caught off-guard by the turn of events. The minister fumbled for a few seconds before stating to Cestan, in lieu of a greeting, "I expect you'll accuse me of having orchestrated this."

For Elizabeth, still crouched next to Ronon, the first glimpse of light at the end of this tunnel appeared when the governor shook his head. "Not this time, Minister." His gaze never left Ronon. "You knew you were to face grave punishment," he said quietly. "Yet you risked your life for the one who planned to execute you."

Elizabeth felt the scrutiny of the surrounding Falnori fall on them. The soldiers, seeing the entirety of the situation, now looked at least as incredulous as their leader.

Only Ronon seemed unfazed. "Guess I did."

Cestan might have suspected the answer, but he asked the question anyway. "Why?"

"If I hadn't, a leader would be dead and no truce would be possible. Your people would have gone on killing each other, and they wouldn't have stopped until long after anyone could remember why the war even started."

"It is as I told you, Minister." Teyla addressed Galven, whose surprise was fading remarkably quickly into comprehension. "When our convictions are strongly held, we are willing to take extraordinary steps to further them. You have seen our actions on both sides of this conflict. Would we do these things if we wished to favor one over the other? Would we risk our lives if we were less than absolutely certain that both are deserving of peace and prosperity?"

As Teyla crossed the open space to join her teammate, Elizabeth watched Cestan's expression and realized what the Athosian must have deduced some time ago in order to bring Galven to this point. Once again she found herself admiring Teyla's gift for insight.

"You're more alike than you know," she told Galven and Cestan, giving the bandage to Teyla and rising. "We're here, standing under the flags of conference instead of doing battle, because you both allowed us to demonstrate our intentions on a personal level, through the actions of individuals. Now we have the opportunity to take another step. We have the raiders who inflamed the tensions in custody. We have the means to open up the second Stargate on this planet for use and shield both gates from any further attacks." She delivered that last part smoothly, without adding the I hope that dangled in her mind; they hadn't heard from John or Rodney.

"There are adversaries in this galaxy against whom we have to stand firm," she maintained. "You know of the Wraith, and you know that they eventually will come again. That makes it even more important for us to stop fighting wars that don't need to be fought. Let's step back and examine what we've discovered here so that we can go forward with a real understanding of each other and our common goals. We can end this."

For a moment, the two leaders regarded each other without speaking. Just when Elizabeth began to consider asking Teyla to try, Galven spoke up, only a trace of an accusation in his tone. "Can the Falnori view the Nistra as equals, despite the fact that we do not share the birthright of the Ancestors?"

"We can," answered Cestan, "else my people would not have chosen me to lead them. Like many, I do not possess the ability." He gave the other man only a moment to react to that disclosure before turning the tables. "Can the Nistra accept the loss of the mines?"

"If it is the wisest course, and if we are compensated with the establishment of a new industry, I believe we can adapt."

With that, the ember of hope Elizabeth had harbored for so long finally flared to life. "Gentlemen, may I suggest that you send your armies home so that we can freely discuss details?"

For all her experience in diplomacy, she had never before been so close, quite literally, to organized combat. The cessation of hostilities was fascinating to witness. Much like the start of the talks, there was no grand, formal act. Cestan sent his warriors out to spread the word along the Falnori lines, and Galven returned to the Nistra side, each pledging to approach the Hall of Tribute in a day's time. Perhaps inspired by Ronon's selfless act, Cestan permitted Galven to take the would-be Nistra assassin back to be dealt with by his own people. It was decided that the Cadre prisoner would stay with the Lanteans for now, although both the Falnori and Nistra had some rather understandable questions for him.

On his feet again, the arrow sticking almost comically out of his bandaged shoulder, Ronon eyed Kellec with some distrust. "Rest easy," Cestan reassured him with a smile. "Unless you feel you have not done enough to annul your earlier deeds?"

The Satedan relaxed, even submitting to take a couple of pain tablets from one of the Marines' kits. While he badgered the sergeant to break the end off the arrow-"so I don't take out someone's eye"-the remainder of the Atlantis team watched the armies slowly start to withdraw toward their respective territories, gathering their wounded and dead as they went.

"No offense, ma'am," offered Lorne, "but if you'd told me this morning that we'd be seeing this by day's end…"

"I know what you mean, Major."

Elizabeth was about to take her leave of Cestan when she again remembered her radio. "Jumper One, come in," she requested.

John's prompt response came as a distinct relief. "Jumper One here. We're headed for the second gate with the dialer."

"That's good to hear. As it turns out, we've managed to relax your deadline. Hope you didn't rush too much."

"NaliM…"

"Rush?" Rodney's voice overrode John's on the frequency. "Thank you ever so much for your belated generosity, Elizabeth, but we had a rather stringent selfimposed deadline with which to contend. It involved not getting ourselves crushed in an orbiting demolition derby!"

A few mumbled words could be heard in the back ground. Elizabeth understood just enough Czech to recognize that theirs promised to be an interesting mission report. "Glad to hear you're in one piece, then," Elizabeth told Rodney calmly, knowing full well that it would yank his chain. "We've got a couple of projects now; the dialer and shield controls on the second gate count as one, and we also need to develop a shield or iris for the first gate. How long do you estimate something like that to take?"

"Depends. How many engineers can I threaten with bodily harm?"

"Rodney."

His sigh was audible over the radio. "A couple of days, probably."

"All right. We'll guard the gate until then, in case any more Cadre types decide to drop in." She spoke to her people but also to Cestan, who nodded his thanks.

"Say, Elizabeth," remarked John with exaggerated casualness, "did we miss anything? Because it looks from up here like the Falnori and Nistra armies are packing up and bailing out."

She smiled. "Seeing is believing, gentlemen. We're heading for home. Keep us apprised on your progress with the dialer installation."

"Will do. We may have to send back to base for supplies, since the Dynamic Duo here will need to build a new housing for the controls."

"Which will be a veritable cakewalk in comparison to what we went through to procure the controls in the first place," Rodney griped. "We'll be in touch, Elizabeth."

The end of his transmission coincided with a shout from Alderman. In the time it took Elizabeth to spin toward his voice, everything tilted yet again.

Sekal smirked, one arm around Sergeant Denfield's throat. With his other hand he jabbed a handgun into the sergeant's ribs, the now-useless cuffs hanging from his wrist. "A word of advice," he offered genially to the other Marines now aiming their weapons at him. "Search your prisoners with a bit more care."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry," Denfield gasped out before the arm around his neck constricted in warning.

"Bastard grabbed Denfield's sidearm out of his holster," Lorne reported, his gaze trained down the barrel of his own weapon. "How the hell he picked the cuffs I have no idea."

"They're not the most ingenious confinement device in the galaxy." Sekal, unsurprisingly, looked rather satisfied with himself.

Damn it, they couldn't have come this far only to be shown up by a petty criminal. Elizabeth cursed herself for letting their collective guard down and raised her hands to halt Kellec and his comrades from advancing on the man. Even if their whip strikes were laser-accurate, they couldn't take the chance that Sekal might have just enough time to pull the trigger.

"Congratulations," she said coolly. "You've succeeded in making us look foolish. Now what do you want?"

"I want my men out of your jail. But since prisoner exchanges are often overcomplicated and precarious, I'll settle for one of your ships."

Not a chance. It hardly shocked her to learn that he was willing to let his associates rot in order to save his own neck. "You won't be able to fly it, since the jumpers respond only to a specific genetic marker."

The detail didn't seem to bother Sekal. "Then I'll take a pilot as well. I saw that one"-he jerked his head toward Corporal Vincent-"fly us here. He'll do."

"No, you want me." Lorne stepped forward, lowering his gun. "I outrank him and I'm a better pilot."

Elizabeth closed her eyes. Apparently Atlantis had more than its share of overly altruistic military officers.

Sekal must have considered the ransom for a major to be higher than that for a sergeant. The transfer was conducted efficiently, the raider's weapon hovering close enough to Lorne's temple to preclude any opportunity to jump him.

"Your utter lack of honor is sadly familiar." Cestan folded his arms, radiating contempt.

Lifting his eyebrows, Sekal said, "Where's the honor in being dragged around like a captured beast? Why should I trust that I won't be locked up indefinitely or worse? I see no reason to let any of you determine my fate."

Although hostage situations weren't Elizabeth's forte, she knew enough about reading people to identify Sekal as the goal-oriented type. He wouldn't hurt Lorne without provocation, but if it would further his plan he wouldn't hesitate.

"Hang in there, Major," she offered lamely.

"Hanging in, ma'am." Lorne's wry smile was belied by the insistent gaze he fixed on her. "Lousy time to lose contact with Colonel Sheppard on the radio, huh?"

Feeling the hard plastic in her hand, she quickly grasped his meaning. Unfortunately, so did Sekal. "Throw it away," he demanded. "All of you. No need to get all devious or heroic."

So much for that. There was another way to make this work, though. Elizabeth nodded and bent to place the radio on the ground. As she did so, she surreptitiously slid her thumb over the leftmost switch and hoped she'd gotten the right one.

"All right, Sekal. You win."

The transmission caught John off-guard. He sat up straighter in his seat. "What was that?"

Radek leaned forward, frowning. "It sounded like-"

"We'll let you gate to whatever address you want," Elizabeth's cautious voice continued, "provided you let the Major go before you step through."

"No deal," came the response. "I want the ship, and he's going to fly it."

John put two and two together and came up with a big problem.

"What the hell-?" Rodney reached out to toggle the radio and yelped when John seized his wrist. "Seriously, what the hell?"

"They're on vox," John explained shortly. "Somebody's keyed their radio open, the way you did during that first raider ambush, so we can hear everything that's going on. Things like that don't happen by accident. If you call them now, that son of a bitch Sekal is going to know we're on to him."

He double-checked Jumper One's cloak and adjusted his heading, aiming for the dot on the HUD that symbolized Jumper Two.

"Everybody can walk away from this," the raider was saying. "I'll even send your man back through the gate when I'm done. I'm sure I can find somebody to crack whatever Ancestor locks that ship has."

"Good luck with that," John muttered. The odds of getting a juniper to respond to a non-ATA pilot were about as strong as the odds of finding a Wraith dancing the tango in the Atlantis mess hall. Even so, he didn't want to lose another jumper out of the city's limited fleet-and he definitely wasn't going to trust Sekal to let Lorne go.

"We were supposed to be done with all the tense stuff for a while." Rodney flopped back in his chair, rolling a kink out of his neck. "There are only so many miracles I can pull off in one day."

"Then tag Radek in. Better yet, both of you put your heads together and brainstorm a way to take Sekal down without risking Lorne."

Jumper One closed in on the team's position, and John put the invisible craft into a hover fifty feet above Jumper Two and the small crowd gathered near the edge of the trees. All right, what do we have to work with? Sekal had an arm around Lorne's neck and a Beretta jammed into his ribs. Standing a conciliatory distance away were Elizabeth, Cestan, a handful of Marines and Falnori, as well as-Ronon and Teyla?

John used the viewscreen's magnification and spotted an arrow stuck through Ronon's shoulder. The big guy didn't look too bothered, which was about par for the course. After he'd wasted a few seconds trying to figure out what exactly had transpired to set up this situation, John gave up. With the enhanced view, he scanned the holsters of the Marines, found an empty one, and made a mental note to tear Denfield a new one later. There was no excuse for losing a weapon.

"It takes a few minutes to power up the jumper," he heard Elizabeth say as Alderman ineffectually pushed some buttons on the remote. "If you try to enter too soon, it'll give you a.jolt. Security feature."

He had to give them both credit for an effective stall tactic. Sekal looked impatient, but not suspicious. So far, John amended. They couldn't keep it up indefinitely.

Landing wouldn't do any good-he'd lose the advantage of surprise and end up in the same position as Elizabeth and the others. How to knock Sekal out from above, then? Jumpers weren't equipped with anti-personnel weapons; a mini-drone, needless to say, would be overkill in the extreme.

"Guys, I could use some ideas." He turned to check on the scientists. Rodney and Radek had slid out of their seats to rummage through the contents of the rear storage areas. "You find a tractor beam or anything back there? Maybe an Asgard transporter, and, while you're at it, an Asgard to operate it?"

"We have a simpler strategy in mind. You'll like it." Rodney sat back on his heels in the rear compartment. "Put the jumper exactly where you want it and I'll take over flying-er, hovering-duties. Then just lean out through the back hatch and shoot the guy."

John was a damned good shot, if he said so himself-and a damned good shot `for a freaking zoomie,' by the grudging admission of more than a few Marines. Still, he wasn't wild about the plan. "As soon as we open the hatch, the interior of the jumper will be visible. Somebody's bound to see us and react enough to tip Sekal o.

"Only if we open it fully," Radek pointed out. "The hatch control is not difficult to manipulate. Ifwe can command a partial opening, just large enough for you to get an arm through, we would, for the most part, preserve the cloak."

"An arm and a sightline. I'm not aiming a gun anywhere near my own man without a solid sightline." John couldn't shake the memory of a few paralyzing seconds in the storm-lit gate-room two years ago: looking down the barrel of his P-90 at Kolya and Elizabeth, a matter of inches separating success and tragedy. He hadn't hesitated then, but of course he hadn't had much of a choice.

"I am thinking that a gun may not be the ideal instrument for this." Reaching into the weapons locker under the bench, Radek came up with a taser in one hand and a slightly mad gleam in his eyes.

John returned the Czech's grin. "Radek, I like the way you think."

Although Teyla had faith that her teammates would be able to resolve the standoff with Sekal, she was not sure what form that resolution would take. She was startled, then, when the raider jerked and went rigid with an unintelligible yell.

His reflexes clearly primed, Lorne wrenched free as Sekal tumbled to the ground in convulsions. Teyla followed the pair of slender wires now embedded in Sekal's back up to their source. Suspended only five feet over their heads was a familiar Earth weapon, gripped by an equally familiar, if disembodied, arm.

Seemingly out of nowhere, John Sheppard's head and shoulders appeared. He squeezed the taser's trigger again, and Sekal twitched once more before finally going limp.

The nearby Falnori warriors gaped at the sight of a man's torso floating in midair. Of the Lanteans, no one looked more relieved than Sergeant Denfield, who stepped over Sekal's prone body to retrieve his sidearm.

John offered a wave with the taser. "Somebody call for the cavalry?"

"We certainly did," Elizabeth called up to him, relief evident in her features. "Nicely done, Colonel."

Rodney's grousing could be heard from within the cloaked jumper. "Now this had better be the end of the excitement for a good long while. At the very least, I'm owed a long, hot shower and a sandwich the size of my head."

Teyla exchanged a smile with Ronon, who'd finally allowed some of the weariness he surely felt to show. At long last, all of them could afford to think about the future.