Stargate Atlantis: Halcyon

by James Swallow

  Another explosion sounded and McKay gaped as the illuminated boards above their heads changed. "These are casualty tallies. You're keeping score."

  Kelfer looked up from a scrap of paper. "Yes, although I must say I've not seen so poor an opening gambit since the days of old Lord Loegis. Noryn should learn to be should be more dynamic and less reactive."

  "Slow and steady has its advantages," noted Muruw. "The Great Trahvis once made an engagement last for six days. He starved his competitor into surrender."

  Sheppard shook his head in disbelief. "You're talking about this like it's a football game."

  "Foot-ball?" asked Vekken. "That sounds like it might be painful."

  Kelfer gestured with the paper. "Noryn has left his base thinly defended. A risky gambit, if Palfrun's sappers take the baron's standard."

  "But then Palfrun's men must take it clear across the field to their base," the minister replied, "and there is much to challenge them on the return journey."

  The scientist sniffed. "I predict the tan banner will fall first."

  Hill's lip curled. "They're playing `capture the flag' out there."

  Daus waved a hand, securing a flute of wine from a passing servant. "This is an honor engagement, Lieutenant Colonel. I wanted you to witness it first-hand, considering that you had some degree of involvement in the events that led up to it. And you may also learn something of our culture along the way."

  Erony explained. "The Barons Palfrun and Noryn have had a disagreement that cannot be resolved by any civil means, as we saw in the palace. Despite Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard's attempt to forestall any bloodletting, Palfrun made petition for a duel between their Dynasts."

  "Where I come from, duels were usually fought by the men with the dispute," said the colonel. "You know the kind of thing, back to back, pistols at dawn? Two men enter, one man leaves?"

  Muruw laughed. "You're not suggesting...? Great blades, you are! You actually suggest that the nobles should fight each other?" He chuckled.

  "I'm not encouraging anyone to go killing anyone else. I just think that staging a mock war for the purpose of settling an argument is a little over the top."

  Muruw's incredulity turned to confusion. "This is not a `mock' engagement, Lieutenant Colonel. Where would the honor be in that?"

  Another rattling fusillade of rifle-fire sounded below them and Sheppard and the others turned toward the sound. They saw a unit of bluecoats gun down a handful of tans and charge on, to the hoots and cheers of Palfrun and his group.

  "Those men are dead," said Ronon, in an icy voice.

  "With honor," noted the Magnate. "When the battle is at an end, they will be interred as heroes deserve."

  Sheppard's blood ran cold as Teyla spoke in a brittle tone, voicing the disbelief that all the Atlantis team felt. "The soldiers below us are using live weapons."

  "You are shocked?" said the Magnate, smiling outwardly but with a hard glint in his eye, daring them to react. "Halcyon is not a world for the squeamish, my friends. We embrace might and fortitude, we reject cowardice and frailty. Only through strength can we remain dominant in a galaxy that would take us as prey if we showed an instant of weakness." He sipped his wine. "We hunt the Wraith to make us strong and to keep us sharp. No other world can say that. Strength, Lieutenant Colonel, force of arms. That is the marrow in Halcyon's bones, it is the law by which we live." Daus gave a fatherly nod to Erony. "My Dynast is the strongest, our army is undefeated, and that is why my kindred have ruled as Magnates over this world for centuries."

  "Might makes right, huh?" said Sheppard, matching gazes with the nobleman.

  Daus clapped his hands together, as if the colonel was a student who had just solved a difficult problem. "Exactly! You understand perfectly!"

  "And what if the people wish otherwise, if they do not want your rule?" asked Teyla. "What then?"

  "Any Dynast can challenge another, in matters of honor or dominion," he said nonchalantly, "as we see here today. Some have dared to challenge me. As to their success..." He spread his hands and smiled again.

  Ronon took a step closer to the Magnate and Sheppard saw the tension in him, the anger in the corded muscles of his neck. Vekken saw it too, and moved casually to a position where he could intercept the Satedan, if he needed to. "This is how you fight your battles?" he said in a low snarl. "This is what you call honorable? You fence in your soldiers and count them like points in a card game? You make them die for a piece of cloth?"

  Muruw raised an eyebrow. "You would do well not be so high-handed, Ronon Dex. We keep our warfare well mannered and equitable. It does not spill out into the streets and fields, it does not consume our society and claim the lives of the innocent. Our codes of conduct keep these engagements regimented. See, here. In this battle today, the use of aerial warfare is prohibited, as is that of gaseous or disease weapons, and explosives beyond an agreed yield. Our referees ensure these rules are adhered to. To be a victor today, a faction need only hold the banners of both sides. No cities will be bombed, no villages or farmland razed to ashes. There are no wars on Halcyon as you would know them, that is true, because we control them. We ensure no heedless massacres or wholesale destruction." He nodded in agreement to his own argument. "Surely you would agree that ours is the more civilized form of warfare?"

  "I've never been what you'd consider civilized," growled Dex, before turning away. "I need some air." He stalked away and out of the gallery.

  "Teyla," said Sheppard. "Go after him. Make sure he doesn't break anything." The Athosian woman moved away, clearly content to be free of the company of Daus and his nobles.

  "I think I have upset him," Muruw's words were arch and dismissive.

  "Oh trust me, you'll know when he's upset," said McKay. "He'll leave a trail of destruction and everything."

  Daus gave a sage nod. "Ah, a thought occurs to me. I think I understand the root of Ronon Dex's choler." The Magnate glanced at Sheppard. "He is a Runner, yes? Perhaps his experi ences as quarry in the cruel games played by the Wraith clouds his impressions of us. I assure you, we are very different to those creatures."

  Sheppard watched the other man carefully. "I have no doubt you believe that."

  Teyla's concern became an outright, fully blown worry when she found a third member of the airship's crew lying unconscious on the decking. She followed the path of open hatchways and insensate soldiers to an open bay in the belly of the ship, a few frames down the hull from the observation gallery.

  The bay was open to the air along its length, and through it she could see the continual melee of the little war raging back and forth. Ronon was at the far end, strapping himself into a leather webbing rig attached to a fat drum of steel cable. He was quite furious.

  "Ronon, what are you doing?"

  He threw her a quick glance. "What does it look like? I'm going to put a stop to their damn game."

  "I dislike this as much as you do, but if you go down there, you will be killed! What do you expect to accomplish?"

  Dex kicked at a switch and the cable brake released. "You heard him in there. Fighting stops when victory is declared. The victor is the man with both flags." He drew his particle magnum and his short sword from inside his greatcoat, and stepped to the edge. "I'll see you in the winner's circle."

  Before she could stop him, Ronon stepped out into thin air and fell away from the airship. The cables played out, dropping him down with a screech of cogs. Teyla saw him fall free of the rig and land in a tuck-and-roll. He came up fighting, stunning two men with gun blasts and knocking another down with the flat of his sword. Then he vanished into the battle smoke, toward the pole where the tan pennant was snapping in the wind.

  In the observation gallery, cries of alarm and shouts of anger warred with a grating alert siren.

  "Someone has descended into the engagement!" snapped Baron Noryn. "This is a gross breach of the rules!"

  "It's the Runner!" called another man, peering through a telescope. "He's violated
the field of conflict!"

  All eyes turned to Sheppard, and he could have sworn there was amusement on Vekken's lips. "What is the meaning of this?" demanded Daus.

  "Ah," said John.

  onon kept low, dodging between what little cover he could find on the battlefield, doing his best to avoid the combatants and taking them out from range when they left him with no choice. He halted in the shade of an overturned steam truck to catch his breath, checking the charge on his pistol.

  Dex's anger enveloped him with a steady, drumming fury. His dislike of these self-styled `nobles' had gradually ramped up from the moment they had crossed paths with them on M3Y465, little by little their contemptuous and faintly mocking manners grating more and more on his patience. He might have been able to tolerate their foppish conduct and the way they played at being soldiers, if they hadn't brought them to see this pathetic game that masqueraded as a real war.

  Honor and duty, those were ideals that Ronon understood. Once upon a time, he might have even been willing to die for them; but things were not the same now. Years of fleeing from arrogant hunters had taught him differently. The Satedan had learned the hard way that true battle brought no glory, no favor. It was nothing but blood cost after blood cost, and no amount of accolades or pieces of shiny metal pinned to a man's chest could balance the butcher's bill. That lesson had been a harsh one, harsh enough to end all life on his homeworld.

  He cast a cold-eyed glance up at the airship overhead. These aristocrats, floating over the carnage in all their finery, heavy with hollow decorations and toy weapons, they understood nothing. He imagined them stripped of their privileges, without bodyguards to defend them, facing a true enemy, facing Wraith. Dex doubted if more than a handful of them would have the spirit to fight for their lives. They were nothing but spoilt, arrogant children, and he was sick of their little games.

  The Runner burst from cover as a trio of tancoats marched past him. With a blow from the curved pommel of his short sword, Ronon felled the first man and shot another at pointblank range with his pistol, the red flash of the stun bolt knocking his target down. The third tancoat was on his guard, and fired his lance-rifle. Dex twitched away as a volley of needleshot cut through the air where he had been standing, and he threw himself at the soldier. The last man cried out as Ronon bunched a fistful of his uniform and pulled him off-balance. He took a head-butt across the nose and his eyes rolled back, insensate. By the time he hit the mud, Dex was already sprinting through the thin haze of smoke, zigzagging around tumbleweed clumps of razor wire and rusted tank traps.

  Ronon hopped over trenches, ignoring shouts of alarm and sporadic flashes of gunfire. The soldiers saw him and their first reaction was uncertainty; he could read the question on their mud-stained, smoke-dirty faces. Who is that man? Whose side is he on? With no sigils or sashes, no uniform as they understood it, the troopers didn't know what to make of him. Their enemy today wore powder blue, and Dex's clothes of tawny leather matched no uniform they had ever seen.

  His greatcoat flapped open like the wings of a raptor bird as he threw himself over a revetment and on to the foot of the hill where the tan banner was based. Ronon saw the thin gun slits of a low bunker, and emerging from a vent in the roof, a whitepainted flagpole from which the Baron Noryn's battle standard hung.

  "Hoi!" shouted a voice. A concealed trapdoor in the hillside flapped open, revealing a tancoat wearing a forage cap laden with officer braid. "Blade's sake, who are you? Name and unit, man, or I'll take you apart!" He had a bell-mouthed blunderbuss in his grip.

  "Specialist Ronon Dex, Satedan Regulars." He gave a grim salute with his particle magnum.

  The tancoat officer blinked in confusion. "Eh? I've never heard of that division. What's your Dynast, whose side are you on-

  From nowhere, a mortar shell exploded nearby and the con cussion made the soldier flinch. Dex took the opportunity and struck the man with a snap shot, grabbing him and dragging his body out of the foxhole. "Mine," he told the unconscious officer. "I'm on my side."

  Ronon dropped through the open hatch; as he guessed, the inside of the hilltop was lined with tunnels leading up to the bunker at the crown. Holstering the pistol, he fished in the deep pockets of his coat and retrieved a trio of stubby black cylinders. What was it that Sheppard 's people called them? Flash-bangs. He smiled coldly. The directness of the name appealed to him. Dex pulled the pins on the stun grenades and threw the cylinders hard down the tunnel, into the heart of the bunker, then ducked down and pulled his coat flap over his face.

  There was a crashing screech of detonation and a blast of white light. Ronon shook off the whining from his ears and moved forward quickly, through tancoats lying on the floor, rocking and clawing at their eyes.

  He emerged in the pillbox where the flagpole stood and punched out the single rifleman there who tried to oppose him. Ronon's blood was up, and on some level he realized he was enjoying this. It wasn't often he had to fight without killing his foes outright, and the challenge of beating these men using nonlethal methods was novel to him. He liked the way it was testing his skills in new and interesting ways.

  Dex swung his short sword in a shallow arc and severed the cords holding the tan pennant to the mast. The banner fell to earth, dropping through the hole in the bunker roof and into his open palm. He tied the cloth around his shoulder and knotted it, then scrambled out of the bunker and on to the hill. "One down," Ronon announced to the air, saluting the airship with his sword, "one to go."

  Rodney looked away from the gallery's gimbal-mounted telescope and grinned incredulously. "He's taken one of the flags. On his own."

  Sheppard caught a glimpse of the running figure through the haze and then he was gone again, sprinting out of sight toward the opposite end of the battle zone. He fought to keep a smile off his face. Yeah, sure he was pissed at Ronon right now for getting in the middle of this, but there was a part of him that wanted to cheer him on as well.

  "This is an outrage!" thundered Baron Noryn. "A clear and undeniable violation of the codes of engagement! I demand a cessation in hostilities immediately! This cannot stand!"

  Across the observation gallery, Palfrun and his men were animated and bellicose. "You know the rules, Noryn!" said the other nobleman. "An engagement can only be closed when victory conditions are met, or by appeal to the Lord Magnate's veto... And I feel no such need to ask for it."

  Noryn stalked toward the other man. "Rule breaker!" He stabbed a finger at Palfrun, and the gasps the declaration brought with it made it clear that on Halcyon, the insult carried an awful lot of weight. "Did you conspire with the outworlders in this? What did you grant them in order to employ that primitive thug?"

  "Hey, now, watch it with the name-calling-" began Sheppard, but his voice was lost in a chorus of recriminations.

  "I have no influence over this Runner. Perhaps you ought to address his master? Or better yet, why not improve the training of your riflemen so that one single attacker cannot so easily cut thought their lines?"

  "I want this match stopped!" Noryn stamped his foot in impotent rage, his cheeks turning crimson. "I demand it! I insist that the Lord Magnate halt this cheating immediately!"

  "You insist?" Daus's words were mild, but his voice silenced everyone. "You insist that I obey your demands, Baron?"

  Noryn's bluster disintegrated. "I... My Lord, I spoke out of turn..."

  Palfrun grinned at his opponent. "Play the game with good humor, old warrior. Try to lose like a gentleman."

  Up on the dais, Kelfer and Muruw chuckled at the insult, amused by the sport.

  Erony's father glanced at the other baron. "Ah, Palfrun. Always so quick to declare victory, yes? Should you not wait until the outcome of the day is clear?"

  Hesitation showed on the bluecoat noble's face. "But... I had assumed... The Runner, I assumed he clearly intended to ally himself to me."

  "Think so?" said Sheppard. "You can't be that good a judge of character, then."

  "Bu
t what else would he hope to achieve? What..." Palfrun's words dried up as understanding crossed his pinched face. He went pale and faced Daus. "My lord! Perhaps I was, ah, hasty in my words to Baron Noryn. I feel now that, with your permission, a cessation of battle would serve us best."

  "Indeed?" said the Magnate. "I do not grant it." Daus ignored the scattering of surprise. "Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard's man has violated the field of conflict and therefore, I deem that it falls to him to deal with this. Immediately." Daus laid a heavy, threatening gaze on Sheppard, masking nothing.

  "He's kinda free-willed," said John. "I don't think I'd be able to talk him around."

  "I do not expect you to," replied the Magnate. "I expect you to stop him by whatever means you wish to employ. Of course, if you decline, I will be forced to order my gunners to deploy sheetfire against the ground. It is an indiscriminate weapon, but quite effective on living targets."

  "Father-" began Erony, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand.

  "Fine," said Sheppard, "but I'm not guaranteeing anything."

  Daus nodded. "Vekken, accompany the Lieutenant Colonel and ensure his safety as best you can. Sadly, the battle will continue around you, so do be careful."

  Teyla stepped forward. "I will come with you."

  "No," said the Magnate. "Three intruders on the field are quite enough."

  Hill took his L85 off his shoulder, handing the assault rifle and an ammunition pack to Sheppard. "You might need this, boss."

  "Thanks."

  "You're not really going down there?" McKay's eyes wid ened. "I'm sure you haven't missed the whole bullets-explosions-warfare thing."

  Sheppard took the rifle and shook his head. "I'm going. And this time, when I say I want the rest of you to keep out of trouble, I really, really mean it."

  The cable rig dropped them at the edge of a shell crater, and the colonel shook off the rush of the descent. "Whoa. Like bungee jumping, but without the kick."