A short burst of static issued from the Atlantis team's radios, interrupting the discussion. Frowning, John twisted the dial on his receiver. "Say again," he transmitted back, only to hear more static. "One of the problems with being underground."
Another burst sounded; then, "-need to check it out."
The voice had been Ronon's. After trading a look with Teyla, John said, "I'm sorry to disrupt everything, but we'd better see what's going on outside."
He started to rise from his chair, halting when two frosty glares settled on him.
"You are Dr. Weir's chief warrior, are you not?" Cestan asked.
Clearly uncomfortable with the scrutiny, John replied, "We have a different name for it, but yes."
"Surely your subordinates are capable of performing their duties while you remain at your post."
Remembering Kellec, seated at Cestan's right, Teyla began to understand. These leaders would not have attended a crucial conference without their chief warriors. If John left, Elizabeth's standing might be lessened.
"Colonel Sheppard serves all of our people equally, not just me," Elizabeth stated. "If he believes it necessary to be elsewhere for a while-"
"No." John sat back in his seat. "Far be it from me to upset any kind of balance here. Teyla?"
Teyla had been considering the same option, so she was prepared for the request. "I will go." She rose and offered a small bow to the other participants.
"Be back here in fifteen minutes flat, or I'm going to assume we've got a problem."
"Understood." John had requisitioned her a watch from Earth, many supply runs ago. Although it did not perfectly represent the Lantean day cycle, it often proved useful. As she climbed the stairs back to the surface, she set the timer to alert her in ten minutes.
When she emerged from the ruins, blinking against the suddenly increased light, she saw no sign of Ronon or the Marines on the hillcrest. Her first instinct was to move in that direction, in case they had regrouped by the gate. Then her radio signaled, and she heard Rodney say, "Look, we don't really care what you steal. Just let us go, and everybody can walk away."
Teyla tensed. The scientist's radio must have been set to `vox,' transmitting whatever he said over the frequency. Obviously the conversation was not a pleasant one.
"We won't even tell anyone about the side entrance," Rodney continued, his voice growing slightly more desperate.
Side entrance? Immediately Teyla set off to circle the hill rather than scale it. For all his self-absorbed tendencies, Rodney McKay was indeed a highly intelligent man. Without his comment, she might have lost much-needed time in locating them.
"Haven't seen weapons like those before," said an unfamiliar voice, perhaps one of Rodney's captors. "This isn't your world."
"No, it's not," answered one of the Marines. "And those aren't your gadgets."
"Forget about the gadgets and concentrate on the guns, Sergeant." Rodney spoke rapidly, as he often did when stressed. "They have six and you have six. They also have us. Somehow I don't think attempting to intimidate them is going to work."
Six guns. Five Marines and Ronon, plus the three unarmed scientists, against six adversaries. The raiders Cestan had described, perhaps. Teyla had only a small knife in her boot as a weapon. Reinforcements could be called, but the area was open enough that a gate activation would likely be heard by all and might further complicate matters.
She crept slowly, leaning into the incline to disguise her silhouette as much as possible. Before long the voices could be heard through the air, and she shut off her radio to ensure that it would not give away her position.
"You're going to have a hard time taking us out without getting your friends hurt," said one of the captors. "Put your weapons down, and we'll let them go once we're safely aboard our ship."
"I don't think so." That was Ronon.
Ship? Kellec had mentioned a ship in their first encounter, when suspicions had been high. The mention of guns seemed notable as well. Most likely the notorious raiders were off-worlders, then. On occasion, she'd encountered their type while trading: people who appropriated whatever material goods a society had to offer, then escaped without sign through the Stargate. A low form of life, to be sure.
Teyla pushed herself flat against the steep hillside and edged closer until she could survey the situation. Rodney and his two companions were kneeling on the ground, a gun trained on each by armed men standing behind them. The other three raiders were locked into a standoff with Ronon, the Marines, and the Falnori and Nistra guards.
None of the raiders was facing exactly in her direction, so she risked raising her head to scout the area more thoroughly. About thirty paces behind the captives sat a small ship, similar to a puddle jumper, though not an Ancestor design. Surely it hadn't originated on this world, given what they knew of the Falnori and Nistra.
Teyla's priority, though, was a strategy to remove the guns currently pointed at her teammates. Although the raiders were outnumbered, they showed no sign of yielding, and they could easily kill the scientists before anyone could stop them. She considered her options. Create a distraction? With no way to communicate her intentions before acting, the danger for all of them would be great. Another tactic, then.
"Greetings," she called, stepping into view. Many heads and not a few weapons swung toward her. "Perhaps I can offer you a more worthy trade."
Rodney's expression plainly questioned her sanity, but one of the raiders spoke up. "And what do you have that might interest us?" His eyes swept over her, assessing her with something beyond a business interest.
She was taking a calculated risk. In her experience, raiders were concerned with profit above all else. Selling their ill-gotten wares held far more importance than any violent act. She simply had to convince them that she had something of higher value to them than three lives.
They liked the technology of the Ancestors, it appeared. Teyla glanced at her watch-this would require careful timing, as well as luck-and stripped it off her wrist. "Have you ever traded with the Tanesians? They have been known to offer their finest jewels for a device such as this. It alerts the wearer to an enemy's approach."
"Does it, now?" The apparent leader of the raiders moved closer to her, seemingly unconvinced yet still curious. "How's that?"
"It will sound an alarm, allowing the wearer time to duck low and prepare for attack." Trusting Ronon to comprehend, Teyla sent a meaningful look toward Rodney, hoping he would decipher her intent. His eyes flared wide for a brief moment, and he gave a barely perceptible nod.
The raider frowned and held out his hand. "Let me see," he demanded.
"Gladly." A quick glance told her that she had three seconds. Rather than step forward and hand the watch to him, she instead tossed it in an underhand lob. It landed in his palm, half a second before the alarm erupted with a shrill beeping sound.
Rodney threw himself face-first into the dirt, yanking his comrades down with him. Ronon and the Marines wasted no time in opening fire.
The startled raiders reacted more quickly than Teyla would have liked, returning fire as they spread out. She dropped into a crouch and caught the sidearm pitched to her by Sergeant Ellis. One Falnori guard was hit and collapsed to the ground; before long, the other was struck while attempting to aid his comrade. Seeing that their wounds were mortal, Teyla felt a pang of sorrow. They had been young and severely overmatched, but they had not fled.
"The raiders are falling back to their ship," Ellis reported, raising his voice over the report of his P-90.
"I vote we let them go!" Rodney yelled, staying down to avoid the crossfire.