“The giants…” whispered Teyla. A group of the towering, silent humanoids were swarming up the corridor toward them.
“They come,” spat the Wraith. “Our captors.” It came forward again. “Quickly. You must release me!” There was an edge of desperation and terror in the warrior’s voice that Ronon had rarely heard in their kind. He had only a moment to register it before the Wraith dived clumsily at him, clawed fingers grabbing for the glass device.
The Satedan reacted with a short, sharp punch that caught the alien square in the face. He felt bone and cartilage fracture beneath his knuckles and the Wraith rocked backwards, a fan of dark, greasy blood issuing from its nostrils. “I don’t think so,” he grunted. “We’re out of here.”
Before the other prisoners could come after them, Ronon and Teyla were stepping through the hatchway, closing it behind them. The other Wraith scrambled toward the moving door, falling over each other in their wild struggle to reach it.
Teyla broke into a sprint and Ronon gave chase, angry at running from a fight, but just as angry at himself for the cold certainty of defeat that would come if he didn’t flee.
There was a clatter of claws on metal as the cell door slammed shut, and a final shout from within. “You fools,” spat the Wraith warrior, “you can’t escape this place!”
The building was an odd collection of wood-framed huts with packed earth walls, and oval woven pods similar to the ones Sheppard had seen in the settlement. The whole thing was raised up slightly on shallow stilts from the mud plain where it sat. A low-lying lake of dirty brown water spilled away from it toward the grasslands, thin and spindly trees issuing up from the shore toward the blazing sky. On the far side of the disused farm, a long covered porch ended in a jetty where tall A-frames creaked in the hot breeze; old, neglected sheets of netting hung from them like twists of blackened lace.
“Looks like a fishing hut, or something, only bigger.” The colonel peered though a monocular, slowly scanning the area. Flat against the side of a low gulley, he lay so only the top of his head was exposed.
“Once it was a place for the lake hunters to come in the colder season,” he heard Laaro say. “The mudgrakes they catch are good to eat.”
“Mudgrakes,” Lorne repeated, giving the word a sour tone. “That doesn’t sound appetizing.”
Sheppard glanced down. Along the gulley to the right and the left, Lorne’s men were spreading out, securing their weapons. Like him, the major had swapped his P90 submachine gun for a Wraith stunner pistol. The silvery alien guns had drawn some unpleasant looks from the locals when they were deployed — anything Wraith was to be distrusted, and Sheppard had to admit he couldn’t fault them on that. He checked the glowing green power cell and holstered it once more.
Lorne looked up at him. “Evaluation, sir?”
The colonel jerked a thumb in the direction of the lake. “This could be a bear, depending on the range of those ‘rodguns’ they’ve got. The building looks like it’s abandoned, but it’s not. Aaren’s people were right, the place is occupied. I spotted two guys, one on an upper level balcony, another one on the ground doing a circuit in the shade.”
Sergeant Rush stood nearby, studying a handheld scanner of Ancient design. “Sir, you should see this. I set it to a thermographic readout.”
Sheppard took the unit and peered at the screen. A collection of green lines showed the walls and internal spaces of the sprawling farm complex, and there were orange-red dots scattered everywhere. Human life-signs. He swore under his breath. “If this thing is reading right, there’s gotta be eighty, maybe a hundred people in there.” He scrolled the display around until he found two specific indicators, each blinking slowly. “Found ’em. McKay and Keller’s tracers are still active, so that’s something.”
He passed the scanner to Lorne, who frowned at it. “They have a lot of company in there,” said the major.
“Yeah. And it won’t be easy getting to them. This Soonir guy? He’s no fool. There’s no single good approach to the building, and anything that could be cover is gone. Brush has been cut away, no trees… It’s open, all the way to the front door.”
“If they’ve got sharpshooters, they’ll cut us down the moment we come over the ridgeline.”
“Soonir’s men are skilled,” noted Laaro, a hitch of fear in his voice. “Takkol says they are all killers.”
Sheppard turned to Rush. “Sergeant, take team three and follow the gulley around to the southwest, get an angle on the far side of the main building. And stay low. They may have spotters. When you’re in position, give me the word.”
Rush nodded. “Will do, Colonel.” He hesitated for a moment. “Sir, what about the locals?” He indicated Aaren, who crouched some distance away, busy in an intense, hushed conversation with his guards.
“I’ll handle them,” Sheppard replied. “You have your orders.”
The sergeant saluted and moved off. Lorne moved closer to his commanding officer and spoke quietly. “Sir, I don’t like this. We could be walking into a meat grinder up there.”
The colonel nodded. “The only way we can make a stealth approach is to wait for the suns to set, go in under cover of darkness.”
“That’s hours away. You think Aaren’s going to wait that long?” Lorne glanced at the elder. “He’s twitchy enough as it is.”
“It’s that or we hit the place with smoke and hope the wind doesn’t carry it away.” Sheppard sighed.
“Sure could use the Apollo right now,” the major noted. “We could grab the doctors without firing a shot.”
“While you’re at it, wish for some lemonade too. My throat’s dryer than the blacktop at Groom Lake.” He turned as he heard Aaren approaching. The elder’s eyes were darting everywhere, as if he expected Soonir’s men to descend on them at any moment. One of the trained mai cats slinked along at his heels, panting.
“Colonel, we are prepared. You will support my guards as they launch the attack, and —”
Sheppard held up a hand. “Whoa, stop right there. A couple of things you have to understand, right away. One, this is a rescue mission, it’s not an attack. Two, we go when I give the word and not before.”
Aaren rocked back, as if the colonel had slapped him. “When I agreed to allow you to assist us —”
Suddenly Sheppard realized that the men standing in a nervous circle behind the elder was a lot smaller than it had been when they arrived at the lakeside. “Where’s the rest of your guards?” he demanded, speaking over the other man.
Aaren folded his arms. “They are following my commands.”
The colonel opened his mouth to speak, but Lorne broke in, holding up the scanner. “Sir? McKay and Keller… They’re moving.”
Gaarin shifted aside a door made of woven branches and Soonir lead Jennifer and Rodney into a larger room, something that might have been a barn before the rebels had re-purposed it. There were beds in close-packed lines, most of them filled with people who seemed asleep or motionless. Something inside Keller went tense, a strange kind of anger, a sudden compulsion to do something, to help; but she didn’t know what she could do, or where to begin.
Light entered through high windows that had been hastily reinforced with bars and the only other entrance was a wide wooden door at the far end. A thickset man, cradling a rifle and carrying a machete-like weapon on his belt, sat in a wicker chair. Keller saw the guard and wondered why he was looking into the room, instead of outward for any potential threats.
“He is here for the peace-of-mind of the sick,” Soonir said quietly, picking up on her questioning look. “They see him and believe they will not be Taken again, that he will protect them.” He shook his head slightly. “A pleasant fiction, though, to help them sleep a little better at night. If the Aegis came, he could not stop it.”
“We saw people at the sick lodge,” began McKay, “these are victims of the same thing?”
Soonir nodded. “The ones that Takkol and the other elders refuse to acknowledge, people denied even the most basic treatment because they or members of their family are known to support me and my views.”