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Advent fic: 18th December, 2007
TITLE: Choosing Resistance
SUMMARY: He never asked what the Academy had done to her to want her back.
CATEGORY: AU, crossover
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Don't own the rights. Making no money.
SERIES: Fly The Stars - sequel to 'Dogs Of War'
NOTES: I feel bad for not writing the requests made of me. I'm getting around to them, but it's been tricky.
Choosing Resistance
Sateda had been left as it was destroyed: rubble and dust. The torn bodies of its Reaver-wrecked people had been buried in a field that now sprouted gravestones amidst the weeds, but the town itself had been abandoned.
Ronon waited in the ruins until nightfall, trying not to think of the life he'd lived here, decades ago. He didn't believe in ghosts, but the memories of that night - running, running, always running - still haunted him.
It was nearly moonrise when he heard the tread of footsteps coming down the road and cursed.
"You shouldn't be here," he snarled at Halling and the band of men and women whose travel-stained gear included the rough survival packs Ronon used when he went out hunting.
Halling wasn't bothered by Ronon's fury. "I remember the Palatiel code," he said. "It has been many years, but I remember Teyla developing it. 'See you at Sateda,' she said."
"And what of Athos?"
"Athos needs no leader," said Halling. "As Pegasus needs no core world telling it what it can and cannot do." He shrugged as he indicated the others, lean, shadowy figures in the night. "We've made the choice to resist for ourselves. As you have." His head lifted to the sky as a faint rumble echoed over the plains. "As she has."
Teyla made no comment when she found nearly twenty people waiting for her, but welcomed them into the core-world ship.
"So where are we going first?" Ronon asked as she left several others looking through the ship, puzzling over the badly-designed systems, already planning fixes and maintainances, while Halling watched the progress with one eye and Teyla with another.
Her answer contained no uncertainty. "Verbena."
Ronon never asked how she'd gotten free of the soldiers from the core worlds. He never asked what she'd done with the bodies. So far as he knew, none of the others asked, either.
And he never asked what the Academy had done to her to want her back.
Not when she found the coalition of the 'Independent Colonies' on Verbena without sending out so much as a single transmission. Not when she and the Athosians took to supply-running for the Independents through the blockades set up by the core worlds. Not when they slipped through the Alliance cordons again and again, with a prescience that made their ship welcome in any Independent camp.
"How does she do it?" Halling murmured to Ronon one night after dinner was served and the remnants cleaned up.
They'd just evaded a series of Alliance cruisers, skip-jumping behind planets and moons, cutting across asteroid belts and sailing far too close to a gas giant's grav-field for the comfort of the crew.
Teyla always piloted these missions-on-the-run, although she had taught others how to fly the ship as well for the more staid legs of their journeys.
"They did something to her at that Academy." It wasn't a question in Ronon's mind anymore.
"She always had an instinct for hide-and-seek and hunting," said Halling softly. "Gave old Tobrel a run for his money, even as a child..." He eyed Ronon. "You think they honed that?"
Ronon hesitated before answering. "They wanted her back. They had some kind of Act to take her back - remember?" As though she was nothing more than a tool the Academy had loaned out and now wanted returned.
And her instincts - honed or not - had saved them more times than Ronon could count. There was something there.
Next morning, Teyla called for an assembly in the cargo bay. They were halted for a rest at a rocky moon out past Greenleaf, and she rested her hip against the railing of the stairs as the crew settled themselves on boxes of medicines and food supplies and listened.
"I've called you here, because we have a choice," she said. Her voice carried, quiet and clear through the unloading bay. "We have a full cargo in our holds and a heavy Alliance blockade ahead at Hera. We would not be faulted for not making it through the blockade, and could turn back, go home to Pegasus and Athos."
"Run away," muttered someone up the back.
"Yes," said Teyla. "Or we could continue on to Hera and the Independent factions fighting there, deliver the supplies, weather what comes."
Her inflections gave no hints on her preference, and the crew argued back and forth on the matter for nearly an hour. There were many who wanted to see home again - it had been nearly four years since they'd been back, with only fragmented news. The war allowed for little correspondance.
In the end, it came down to a ballot. The vast majority voted to stay on and run through the blockade to Hera. Athosians finished what they began.
"We've been in this war since Verbena," said one of the older men, gruffly. "We'll stick it out to the end."
Ronon had voted to stay. It felt right.
"Our destination on Hera?" He asked Teyla as they walked to the ship's bridge. Teyla's gaze fixed on the stars that lay out the viewscreen window ahead of them, and the faint light made her fey.
"Serenity Valley."
--
8. Acts Of Peace
NOTES: I can see the Athosians as a supply-run ship for the Independents, getting them information and supplies. Teyla would take all the little hints and tips and stuff and collect them together into an accurate estimation of the situation, then choose the path of her ship. To quote Sarra Ambrai, "My gift is to come to a correct conclusion based on fragmentary evidence; in the vernacular, it's called 'gut jumping.' Pass the tea, please."
TITLE: Choosing Resistance
SUMMARY: He never asked what the Academy had done to her to want her back.
CATEGORY: AU, crossover
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Don't own the rights. Making no money.
SERIES: Fly The Stars - sequel to 'Dogs Of War'
NOTES: I feel bad for not writing the requests made of me. I'm getting around to them, but it's been tricky.
Choosing Resistance
Sateda had been left as it was destroyed: rubble and dust. The torn bodies of its Reaver-wrecked people had been buried in a field that now sprouted gravestones amidst the weeds, but the town itself had been abandoned.
Ronon waited in the ruins until nightfall, trying not to think of the life he'd lived here, decades ago. He didn't believe in ghosts, but the memories of that night - running, running, always running - still haunted him.
It was nearly moonrise when he heard the tread of footsteps coming down the road and cursed.
"You shouldn't be here," he snarled at Halling and the band of men and women whose travel-stained gear included the rough survival packs Ronon used when he went out hunting.
Halling wasn't bothered by Ronon's fury. "I remember the Palatiel code," he said. "It has been many years, but I remember Teyla developing it. 'See you at Sateda,' she said."
"And what of Athos?"
"Athos needs no leader," said Halling. "As Pegasus needs no core world telling it what it can and cannot do." He shrugged as he indicated the others, lean, shadowy figures in the night. "We've made the choice to resist for ourselves. As you have." His head lifted to the sky as a faint rumble echoed over the plains. "As she has."
Teyla made no comment when she found nearly twenty people waiting for her, but welcomed them into the core-world ship.
"So where are we going first?" Ronon asked as she left several others looking through the ship, puzzling over the badly-designed systems, already planning fixes and maintainances, while Halling watched the progress with one eye and Teyla with another.
Her answer contained no uncertainty. "Verbena."
Ronon never asked how she'd gotten free of the soldiers from the core worlds. He never asked what she'd done with the bodies. So far as he knew, none of the others asked, either.
And he never asked what the Academy had done to her to want her back.
Not when she found the coalition of the 'Independent Colonies' on Verbena without sending out so much as a single transmission. Not when she and the Athosians took to supply-running for the Independents through the blockades set up by the core worlds. Not when they slipped through the Alliance cordons again and again, with a prescience that made their ship welcome in any Independent camp.
"How does she do it?" Halling murmured to Ronon one night after dinner was served and the remnants cleaned up.
They'd just evaded a series of Alliance cruisers, skip-jumping behind planets and moons, cutting across asteroid belts and sailing far too close to a gas giant's grav-field for the comfort of the crew.
Teyla always piloted these missions-on-the-run, although she had taught others how to fly the ship as well for the more staid legs of their journeys.
"They did something to her at that Academy." It wasn't a question in Ronon's mind anymore.
"She always had an instinct for hide-and-seek and hunting," said Halling softly. "Gave old Tobrel a run for his money, even as a child..." He eyed Ronon. "You think they honed that?"
Ronon hesitated before answering. "They wanted her back. They had some kind of Act to take her back - remember?" As though she was nothing more than a tool the Academy had loaned out and now wanted returned.
And her instincts - honed or not - had saved them more times than Ronon could count. There was something there.
Next morning, Teyla called for an assembly in the cargo bay. They were halted for a rest at a rocky moon out past Greenleaf, and she rested her hip against the railing of the stairs as the crew settled themselves on boxes of medicines and food supplies and listened.
"I've called you here, because we have a choice," she said. Her voice carried, quiet and clear through the unloading bay. "We have a full cargo in our holds and a heavy Alliance blockade ahead at Hera. We would not be faulted for not making it through the blockade, and could turn back, go home to Pegasus and Athos."
"Run away," muttered someone up the back.
"Yes," said Teyla. "Or we could continue on to Hera and the Independent factions fighting there, deliver the supplies, weather what comes."
Her inflections gave no hints on her preference, and the crew argued back and forth on the matter for nearly an hour. There were many who wanted to see home again - it had been nearly four years since they'd been back, with only fragmented news. The war allowed for little correspondance.
In the end, it came down to a ballot. The vast majority voted to stay on and run through the blockade to Hera. Athosians finished what they began.
"We've been in this war since Verbena," said one of the older men, gruffly. "We'll stick it out to the end."
Ronon had voted to stay. It felt right.
"Our destination on Hera?" He asked Teyla as they walked to the ship's bridge. Teyla's gaze fixed on the stars that lay out the viewscreen window ahead of them, and the faint light made her fey.
"Serenity Valley."
--
8. Acts Of Peace
NOTES: I can see the Athosians as a supply-run ship for the Independents, getting them information and supplies. Teyla would take all the little hints and tips and stuff and collect them together into an accurate estimation of the situation, then choose the path of her ship. To quote Sarra Ambrai, "My gift is to come to a correct conclusion based on fragmentary evidence; in the vernacular, it's called 'gut jumping.' Pass the tea, please."