McKay looked at him askance. "You spent seven years constantly looking over your shoulder for Wraith. What would feel right to you?"
"No, I hear you, Ronon." The Colonel's bearing changed slightly, his grip on his weapon also more secure. "Is it me, or has the wind picked up?"
With instincts born from seven years of running, Ronon turned to look behind them. The monochrome sky was now broken by a darker smudge on the horizon. Didn't look like weapons were going to be much use this time. "It's probably not you."
Glancing back, Sheppard lifted his binoculars again, and his face went slack. "Sandstorm. Not good."
"I, ah, take it we're heading back to the jumper?" Beckett's voice wavered, and he looked uncertain, as if another tattered memory was hovering just outside his reach.
The Colonel appeared to be sizing up their position and the speed of the storm. "No time. The sand'll get to it before we could." An assessment Ronon agreed with.
"And you're basing that on something more scientific than your gut instinct, right?" McKay demanded.
"Are you really questioning my qualifications for desert ops?" Not waiting for a response, Sheppard turned back toward the cliffdwellings. "Whoever lives there must have seen this coming and taken shelter. It's closer than the jumper, so let's get down there "
They hurried along the cliff searching for a place to descend, breaking into a jog when a strong wind gust nearly toppled McKay. Without comment, Ronon took the scientist's overloaded pack and slung it across his own shoulder, allowing them to move faster. He'd been in a sandstorm before and, based on the size of the rust-colored cloud bearing down on them, this was going to be… uncomfortable.
Ronon knew that he could have made it back to the 'gate if he'd left the moment they'd spotted the storm. Sheppard would probably have made it, too, but neither McKay nor Beckett was in the same physical shape. These people had taken some getting used to, but they'd accepted him as a part of their team, and he'd stand by them.
Sheppard threw down his pack and hunted inside for rope. "I'll find us an anchor point."
Ronon narrowed his eyes against the expected airborne grit and sized up the cloud. It was hundreds of meters high and curled over at the top like a breaking wave. "Guess you were right about the dark and stormy part."
If they couldn't find a way down the cliff face, they were better off digging in well back from the edge, because visibility would soon be reduced to nothing.
A hiss drew his attention back to Sheppard, who'd jerked his hand back from the pack. Before Ronon could question, he felt a sting against his cheek.
"Ow! What the hell?" McKay instinctively ducked.
Squinting against the gusts, Ronon took a good look at the approaching storm. What he had at first assumed were darker patches in the cloud in fact had a distinctly reddish hue. "I don't think that's just sand."
"Cover as much of your skin as possible!" Beckett pulled the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands, raising his voice over the wind. "There must be something caustic in the dust."
Sheppard was still struggling with the rope, while the swirling clouds grew thicker around them. "There's nothing I can secure the rope to," he yelled. "I'm gonna try and anchor myself so you guys can climb down."
"Are you brain-dead?" McKay shouted back. "Do you have to try to kill yourself every damn day?"
"You got a better idea?"
Ronon pulled the collar of his coat up to shield his face. He didn't need to see his surroundings to know that there was no way out of this. On one side they faced a sheer drop of a hundred meters to the village, and on the other a deadly storm that was already starting to envelop them. Any action, even the Colonel's intended sacrifice, would come too late.
The one emotion Ronon allowed himself was anger. This was an utterly pointless way to die.
After Jumper One had vanished through the 'gate, Elizabeth barely found time to walk across the control room to her office before being called back.
"Dr. Anane has reestablished contact," the tech informed her. "He's managed to set up a video link."
"Patch it through," she said immediately, turning to the screen.
The picture was dimly lit and peppered by static, but Kwesi looked none the worse for wear. So far.
"Dr. Weir," he greeted. "With luck I will be able to keep this link operating."
"Good work. Halling, hello " The tall Athosian stood to the engineer's left, looking intently into the camera. "Kwesi, what can you tell us?"
"The wind has decreased somewhat," Kwesi reported, "and the most developed cloud mass is currently moving away from us, further up into the mountains. Here, let me show you." He moved out of the camera's view, speaking as he went. "I cannot be certain it will continue in that direction, though, as it is close to sunset and we are losing the light."
The image jerked before refocusing on the familiar landscape behind the Athosian camp-except that the mountains were now crowded by the blackest, fastest moving clouds that Elizabeth had ever seen. Even through the narrow camera lens, the storm looked massive and quite terrifying. "Is the camp secure for the moment?"
"For the moment, yes," Kwesi replied, facing the camera once more. "My concern is the possibility of flash floods. Although the camp is situated well above the river, the cloud mass indicates that the mountains are receiving an extraordinary volume of rain."
"Halling, please gather your people and take them to higher ground," Elizabeth said. "This storm-it isn't natural, and we can't predict its course or its consequences."
Kwesi looked off-camera and nodded. "There is a sheltered position in a narrow gorge above the camp."
The Athosian stepped back into view again, his reserved demeanor clearly masking deep concern. "I see. May I speak to Teyla, Dr. Weir?"
"Teyla is on her way to you, bringing several jumpers to evacuate the Athosian settlement."
"Once again, we are grateful for your assistance." Halling's expression became difficult to read. The news of his leader's return seemed to placate him, but it hadn't diminished the magnitude of the danger. "May I ask why you believe that this is not a natural event?"
In Atlantis's control room, out of the camera's view, Colonel Caldwell gave her a warning glance. Elizabeth hesitated, conflicted. She certainly didn't think it prudent to explain that this storm was only just the beginning. The Athosians' rather pious view of Atlantis as the home of the Ancients might feed tales of angry spirits, first prompted by their encounter with an energy creature shortly after their arrival. At the same time, she felt that, too often in the past, she'd had to override Halling's concerns in favor of her own judgment. He, and his people, deserved more than a brush-off response.
"An Ancient device designed to terraform planets has been inadvertently triggered," she told him, keeping the explanation vague but truthful. "We're not entirely certain, but we believe that the storms will be far in excess of what we have ever experienced."
Frowning, Hailing glanced at Kwesi before asking, "Have you no way of stopping the device?"
"None that we've been able to determine," Elizabeth admitted. "However, Colonel Sheppard has taken a team off-world in the hope of recovering a second machine we believe should counteract the effects of the first."
There was a brief, strained pause, during which the distance between their two cultures seemed as wide as it had ever been. Then, with a bow of his head, Hailing said, "Again, thank you for sending aid. I must go tell my people to prepare for the evacuation."
Watching the Athosian leave, Kwesi finally allowed Elizabeth to see his unbridled alarm. "A terraforming device?"
Elizabeth made a deliberate effort to maintain her composure, feeling like it was all she could do to manage the situation. With a nod, she asked, "Realistically, how feasible is a short-notice evacuation?"