Work Text:
Prompt: Drink
Crossover: Star Wars and Stargate Atlantis
It was good to be back in Pegasus, especially now that the Wraith were very close to being wiped out. Ronon had mostly enjoyed his time in Sheppard’s home galaxy, even if there had been too many ‘debrief’ meetings. He had never before encountered a group that loved stories as much as Sateda. It had also been eye-opening to see how many different cultures there were on one planet without the threat of repeated Wraith cullings keeping the population small and contained. Hopefully the population of Pegasus would have the chance to do something similar now. Ronon was looking forward to it.
Already there was a major difference in how strangers were greeted when they came through the ring of the ancestors on every planet. Typically trading was welcome but lingering was not tolerated. No one wanted to chance attracting the Wraith with large numbers or a potential runner. In addition to that, places like Sateda where there was an actual city were rare and strange, with most tribes either embracing a nomadic lifestyle or breaking into small villages that were easily evacuated. Here on Pana though, there was a freshly built tavern within easy walking distance from the ring, with a few other buildings springing up around them.
Sheppard made an odd sound when he spotted the tavern. “That’s new, right?”
“Very new,” Teyla agreed. “The people here are beginning to feel safe. It’s a good sign.”
“It’s a great sign,” added Ronon, unable to keep the grin from creeping up his face. “And now we’re going to have a drink.”
Rodney made a face. “I forgot to grab an epi-pen when I packed up this morning. Teyla, do you know if this planet has anything that might count as citrus?”
“I think ale would be safe for you,” she said. “I don’t remember anything sour or acidic here.”
“I’ll chance it. Sheppard?”
“Might as well go and make some friends,” Sheppard said. “That’s why we came back.”
Inside it was surprisingly well-lit, with windows open to the fresh air and sunshine. There were a decent amount of people inside, mostly in the clothing styles of Pana but there were people dressed more like Sheppard’s people inside. A teenager with a bright shock of red hair was sitting at a table with three other teenagers, all of them leaning in and laughing. Ronon felt Sheppard still beside him for a second, because none of them had ever seen that shade of hair outside of the people of Earth. Things that stood out were things that made you more likely to be grabbed by the Wraith and anyone with hair like that would have been taught to cover it early on, or would have died and removed the hair from the next generation.
The boy was one of those dressed differently from everyone else as well, in some type of clothing that was trousers and shirt all in one with a jacket thrown over top. He didn’t belong on Pana, and he didn’t really care if anyone noticed that fact.
Without discussion the four of them took a table within eyesight of the teenagers. Ronon had the best hearing of them all, so once he was settled with an ale he began to listen. The redheaded one didn’t talk often, and he spoke with an odd accent and seemed to occasionally stumble when looking for a word, which was also an oddity. There weren’t many people who didn’t speak the trader’s language, often as their first language.
“What has the kids captivated?” Sheppard asked.
Ronon shrugged and took a swallow of his ale. It was good, better than he expected, even though he wasn’t really the type to be terribly choosy about his alcohol. “Teenage things. Games. Hanging out in the woods.”
“Normal for this planet?”
“Not usually,” Teyla added. “But with the elimination of the threat of the Wraith, that might be changing.”
Without warning the boy sat up straighter. His head didn’t turn towards the door, but his eyes darted in that direction. Ronon turned his attention in that direction, not bothering to be casual, and watched as a man about McKay’s height stepped into the tavern. At first glance he seemed to be fairly ordinary, his hair a mix between dark blond, light brown, and grey and laugh lines around his eyes. Teyla was observing him out of the corner of her eyes and he watched as she much more subtly set her mug down and shook out her hands. The action made him take a closer look, taking in the lean muscle and the ready posture.
“Ben,” the man said, followed by a series of words in a language that Ronon had never heard before. The redheaded teenager stood up and headed for the door, the older man nudging him with a shoulder and saying something that made the boy laugh as they headed back into the sunshine.
“Something we need to be worried about?” Sheppard asked quietly.
“I do not know,” Teyla said. “It was if every hair on the back of my neck stood up. Not like when I would sense the Wraith, but something that demanded notice none the less.”
“Well, if the guy is a threat he’s the most boring one I’ve ever seen.” McKay had decided not to risk the alcohol on offer and didn’t look happy about it. “But I’ve never heard anyone speak in a different language out here.”
“Everyone uses the trader’s language in public,” Ronon said. “Your cradle language is private.” There was no one left alive that spoke Ronon’s cradle language. He’d made his peace with it.
“They are not a threat to us, I believe,” Teyla said slowly. “I think they could be, if they desired it, but that is not something the man wants.”
“So keep an eye out, but in the meantime we shouldn’t really worry about it,” Sheppard summarized.
“I heard a phrase on Earth while we were there,” Ronon said. “Don’t start none . . .”
“Won’t be none,” Sheppard finished. “Understood.”