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"So the Colonel just had to go along, did he?"

"He is the most skilled pilot, and they have a time con straint. We believe shielding the Nistra gate from raids may help to head off the conflict." Teyla tucked a stun pistol into her belt along with her staffs.

"Then they'd bloody well hurry up." Carson stared at them both with bewildered eyes. "And that didn't answer my first question."

"Elizabeth has been appealing to the leaders," explained Teyla. 'No one has tried to tell the people themselves about the raiders' off-world origins. They are marching off to battle under the belief that they'll be defending their homes."

"We got to know one of the hunting parties." Ronon did a cursory knife check. Teyla had seen him make the motions a hundred times and still was not certain where he kept them all. "They're pretty open-minded. Maybe we can convince them of the truth, and they can convince others before the fighting begins."

Carson grabbed his arm. "Lad, I don't mean to be a spoilsport, but did you not hear me say that the gate is no longer under our control? Noble as your intentions are, is this really worth the risk of getting shot on sight?"

It was a fair question. Teyla glanced at Ronon. The choice was clear in her mind, but she would not decide for him.

"We owe them," Ronon said simply. With that, he turned to go back into the gate-room.

Teyla followed, tapping her radio to alert the control room. "Please dial the main gate on P7L-418."

"Everyone's gone batty around here," the doctor sputtered as the lights began to chase each other around the gate. "Hold on! Does this mean I'm meant to be supervising the city?"

"Have fun," Ronon called over his shoulder.

When they stepped out of the gate on 418, all that was visible through the wavering torchlight was the expected swarm of bows and spears. "We come as friends," Teyla said, extending her right arm and then touching her forehead. Catching on, Ronon quickly did the same.

The demonstration of their hunting signal gave the Nistra soldiers pause. "Where did you learn this?" one demanded.

"From the hunting party of Ilar," Ronon answered. "They gave us aid when we were in need. We'd like to return their kindness."

One of the hunters stepped forward. Teyla recognized him as a member of Ilar's group-Temal. "Teyla, Ronon," he greeted them with surprise and relief. "We feared you had been killed by the marauders."

"They tried. We outwitted them." Ronon gave a smirk.

"We have information about your adversary," continued Teyla. Not a lie, but perhaps not the complete truth, either. "Can you tell us where your forces are assembling so that we may deliver it?"

"They make camp for the night in the Bella Plains." Temal pointed toward the northeast. "I will take you there. You will need a mount to reach them before dawn. We can spare one for you, can we not?" He looked to the apparent leader of the guard detail, who nodded, seemingly won over by the promise of enemy secrets.

Partway down the hill grazed a small herd of creatures like the one that had pulled their cart to the Falnori capital. Had that first visit only been a few days ago? Teyla felt unaccountably aged. "Thank you," she told the leader. "We will make sure it is returned to your people."

Neither she nor Ronon was an experienced rider, certainly not on this type of animal. Ronon took the reins, and they both kept a tight grip on the saddle. Temal climbed onto another mount and led them off toward the plains. It was a bumpy, if not wholly unpleasant, journey, complicated somewhat by the darkness.

At last they came upon a field speckled with peladon- hide tents and campfires. So many people, all preparing to fight and die for little more than a mistake.

"I say we avoid the headquarters." Ronon dismounted the animal and nodded toward the larger, sturdier tent visible above the others. "We know Galven's already made up his mind."

At that, Temal looked at them curiously but said nothing.

"I agree." Teyla placed a hand on Ronon's shoulder in order to climb down as well. "Beyond that, I am not sure where to start."

A group of hunters solved the dilemma for them, walking up to them with frank curiosity. Teyla repeated the hand signal and the explanation she'd given at the gate. When Temal questioned them about a group leader named Ear, the hunters shook their heads but suggested a group five tents away who `knows everyone.' The process repeated three more times before a young voice from behind shouted, "Ronon! Teyla!"

As they turned, Dantir ran toward them, a wide grin causing his face to glow. "You're alive! We thought-"

"We're not so easily beaten." Ronon caught the boy's shoulders before a collision could occur. "How did you know we were here?"

"Word spread quickly. You don't really blend in."

Looking around at some of the hunters and other soldiers who had gathered, Teyla noted that most of them were closer to her height than to Ronon's. "Where is your hunting party? We must speak to your mother."

"Come." Dantir led them down a row of tents.

At their approach, Ilar rose quickly from the fire she tended. "The Ancestors smile on you," she exclaimed. "We believed you dead by the hand of the Falnori."

The rest of the party swarmed around them, offering sincere greetings. "That is why we have come." Teyla settled beside the fire and motioned for the others to return as well. "We have learned the identity of the marauders who plague your people. They are not Falnori."

Ilar's expression blanked, as if uncertain of what she'd heard. `But they are. They have stolen from us for many seasons-

"Someone has been stealing from you," Ronon interrupted. "After they took us, we managed to trap some of them on our world. They're called the Cadre, and they steal from societies on lots of planets. They use the ring, the same one we came through, to sneak into your territory. They've been doing it to the Falnori, too."

Surprise and confusion were displayed openly on Dantir's face. Hesitant, he asked, "Can that be true?"

"No, it cannot." One of the older men of the party spoke, his voice more resigned than angry. "Our histories may not be well-preserved, but all who have encountered the Falnori know how they view us-as an inferior race, unworthy of being treated as equals."

"No. They merely believe that you have been raiding them." Teyla leaned forward. "It has been so long since you've interacted with them in any meaningful way that you do not recognize them, or they you. The Cadre has set you against each other."

"And has this Cadre refused us food, weakened us?" Temal demanded.

How could they explain this? "The weakness many of your people suffer is due to the ore you mine. Think about the most afflicted among you. They are miners, are they not?"

No one responded. Teyla began to hope that she had reached them. "This whole war is based on one misconception after another," she persisted. "Our people are bringing a shield for the ring on your lands, and it will stop the marauders from coming. There is no need to fight."

liar laid a gentle hand on her arm, looking both wistful and sympathetic. "I wish I could believe as you do. You are young and have not lived among us. Sadly, there are some aspects of our existence that we cannot change. The hostility of the Falnori is one such constant. We have been called to defend our people, and we shall."

Though disappointed, Teyla could not blame these people for their views. What proof could she offer that might outweigh the beliefs of so many years? Had she really expected to convince an entire society to lay down their arms based solely on her word?

"Then we'll stay with you," Ronon said suddenly, catching her unawares.

Ear's expression suggested that she had not expected that, either. "You are welcome, of course. But this is not your cause.

"We have to get back to the ring by the Hall, anyway." Ronon's gaze betrayed his true thoughts, however. Teyla followed it to where Dantir sat and felt the weight of hopelessness settle in her chest. The weapon at the boy's belt was crudely made. Still, she had seen and used the Falnori version enough to recognize it as an adarite whip.