The colonel glanced up, tracking the trajectory of the kill-shot, and through a momentary break in the smokescreen he saw a rebel with a rifle aiming right back at him. On the run, Sheppard released a pulse-bolt from the alien pistol and hit his mark. The rebel shooter fell soundlessly, instantly shocked unconscious. He dropped from the upper level balcony, tumbling headfirst over a rail and through the thatched roof of a pod-hut.
Lorne raced past and Sheppard fell in with the major, pacing him. They reached the porch of the main building as gunfire hissed and buzzed around them, the chemical taint of the white vapor coating their throats. Lorne nodded at the wide wooden door blocking the entrance and Sheppard returned the gesture. The colonel planted a heavy boot right at the point where a carved lever-lock held the door closed. It splintered and broke, and the doors groaned as they fell open. Two rebels waiting for them inside were dispatched with a brace of stunner blasts.
“Breach and clear!” ordered Sheppard, and they entered, guns high.
A woman with a rifle at her side and blood on her face from a gash on her scalp bounded into the room. “Aaren has the voyagers are with them,” she gasped. “The guards have already killed three of our men! They’re going to overrun the farm!”
“What?” Rodney heard the pure shock in Keller’s voice.
“They are here for you,” Gaarin told Soonir. “They must not be allowed to take you! Takkol will have his victory!”
“No, the sick —” Soonir reached out toward the people in the beds.
“You must go!” Gaarin turned his attention to the other rebels. “Take him to the tunnels, get him away as quickly as you can!”
The rebel leader rounded on McKay and almost threw the blood vials at him. “Is this what you wanted from us, voyager? Take them, then! Give them to your master!”
“Master?” Rodney shook his head. “We’re not working for Takkol or the Aegis! You have to believe me!”
Soonir was already being led away. “How can I?”
“Wait, no, this isn’t what we wanted…” Gaarin stood in front of McKay to stop him following.
The other rebel shoved Rodney back with the heel of his hand. “I should kill you for this,” he grated. “It would be fitting!”
“No,” called Soonir. “No more death! I will not have it.”
“I’m sorry!” Rodney yelled, as the rebel leader left them behind.
He looked up and found Gaarin glaring at him. “We are all sorry, voyager,” he growled. “Takkol will ensure we are so.”
McKay groped for something to say, but in the next second he was covering his ears as a flash bang grenade went off down the hall, the flat concussion hammering through the building.
There were four of the locals in the corridor, working silently under the glow of a lamp-globe that floated over their heads. They were patching other parts of the damaged metal walls, drawing jagged-edged pieces of Wraith bone-amour from an anti-gravity cart. One of them used something that had to be a molecular welder to bond the salvaged plating to the scorched surfaces. None of them spoke as they went about the duty.
“They move like machines,” Teyla noted. She was right; their actions were stilted and unnatural.
He nodded. “No sign of any of those creatures, either.”
“Shall we take the other path, then? Avoid them?”
Ronon shook his head. “No. Let’s go take a look.”
The four figures — three men and a woman — showed no sign of noticing their approach, and when Teyla spoke to them they still did not react.
“Hello? Can you hear us?”
“Look,” said the Satedan, indicating the woman. “Remember her?”
Recognition bloomed on Teyla’s face. “The Heruuni woman from the farm. The one we saw taken by the creatures.”
Ronon waved his hand in front of the woman’s face, snapped his fingers; nothing. “Hey,” he snapped, raising his voice. “I’m talking to you.”
The woman’s eyes were vacant and expressionless.
“It’s as if they’ve been conditioned,” said Teyla. “Put into a waking trance…”
Ronon stepped in front of the woman from the farm and blocked her path. “Stop what you’re doing,” he demanded, using the ‘command’ tone of voice they had taught him in his combat training on Sateda.
To his mild surprise, that had the desired effect. The four of them immediately halted.
“Suggestibility,” Teyla noted. “They’re no better than drones in this state. Mind-controlled, just waiting for the right instructions.” She glanced at him. “For someone to give them orders.”
“That, I can do,” said Ronon. “How do we get out of this place?” he demanded, searching their faces for any signs of consciousness; he found nothing but blank, mute stares. It was, in its own way, unnerving. Ronon turned to another of them, a man with a shorn skull and faint tattooing. “Tell me where the exit is!”
All four of the Heruuni turned as one and pointed down the corridor.
“That is progress,” Teyla allowed.
“Reckon so.” Ronon prodded the man in the chest. “You will show us where it is.”
He got a languid nod in return, and with halting steps, the man began to wander away, off into the darkness.
Moving quickly and carefully, Sheppard and Lorne went from room to room, calling out “Clear!” each time they found an empty chamber, and using the stunners when opposition came at them. They halted at a closed door and shared a look.
“Where’s this band of dangerous militants Aaren was talking about?” said Lorne. “These guys are just day-players. They barely know how to put up a fight.”
Sheppard nodded. Only a handful of the rebels they had encountered seemed to have anything like a basic tactical sense. Most of them had surrendered the moment they were threatened, and some didn’t even appear to be able to work their weapons correctly. These people weren’t exactly the heavily-armed band of marauders that the elder had painted them as.
From the opposite end of the building came the crash-whump of a flash bang, and over the radio the colonel heard Sergeant Rush’s voice. “South entrance secure. Resistance is minimal.”
“Roger that,” Sheppard replied. “Hold your position and make sure that Aaren’s yahoos don’t shoot anyone else.”
“Wilco,” said the sergeant.
“He’s not gonna like that, sir,” Lorne noted.
“I don’t care what he likes, Major. I’ve had enough of people on this planet yanking our chains. Go!” He moved up toward the door and shouldered it open.
An empty wicker chair tumbled out of the way and the two officers found themselves inside a large barn filled with beds and scared people.
“What the hell…?” Lorne halted, panning his weapon over a sea of frightened faces.
Sheppard caught sight of McKay and Keller across the room, with an armed local towering over them. “Drop the gun!” he shouted. “Right now!”
“It’s okay!” Rodney replied, gingerly reaching up to take the man’s rifle. “Don’t shoot him.”
The tall rebel’s shoulders slumped and he released his grip on the rodgun. Sheppard was there in a heartbeat, the stunner still at the ready. “You okay?” He directed the question at Keller, and the doctor gave him a shallow nod; she looked frustrated and weary.
“Yes, we are fine,” McKay added. “Thanks for asking.”
“What part of the words sit tight did you not understand?” Sheppard glared at the scientist. “I told you to say in the settlement. Did I leave any kind of ambiguity in that statement?”
“We got blood samples!” McKay retorted, as if that was explanation enough.
“They don’t call me ‘colonel’ because I like fried chicken, McKay. I’m the ranking officer here, and when I give an order I expect it to be obeyed!”
“They had guns,” Rodney countered.
Sheppard prodded him in the chest. “So did you.”
“And what would a shoot-out have done for us?” Keller broke in. “We need the trust of these people!”