Free SGA-13 Hunt and Run by Aaron Rosenberg

stun gun.
    “I spotted the snare without a problem,” Ronon admitted, straightening and taking a few steps away from his strung-up mentor. No sense getting within range of the man’s knives. “So I rigged one of my own just a few steps away from it.” He shrugged, trying not to grin. “Then I stepped into yours and waited for you to hear the commotion and come running.” The grin slipped free anyway. “Which you did.”
    “You couldn’t know which direction I’d come from,” Nekai insisted.
    “No, but I knew you’d circle around until you were behind me,” Ronon pointed out. “So I positioned the snare where I wanted it, then adjusted my own orientation until it was directly at my back.” His grin widened. “The rest was easy.”
    Nekai studied him for a second — then laughed. “Nicely done,” he admitted. “You used my own planning against me, and I fell for it. I am impressed.”
    “Then I passed?” Ronon asked, lowering his pistol slightly but still not moving too close. “Can I cut you down, or are you going to try for me anyway?”
    “You definitely pass,” his mentor assured him. “The test is over.” Ronon holstered his pistol and drew a knife, slicing through the vine with a single quick overhand slash. Nekai fell to the ground, twisting and curling into a ball to lessen the impact. He was on his feet a moment later, and Ronon handed him back the stun gun without a word.
    “You’ve learned well, Ronon,” Nekai told him once he was armed again, and had removed the snare’s loop from his ankle. “There’s only one thing left now, one final step.”
    “You said I passed,” Ronon reminded him, his grin fading a little bit. How many more tests would he have to endure?
    “This isn’t a test,” Nekai answered. “More like a proving ground. It’s time.”
    “Time for what?” But deep down, Ronon already knew the answer, and his mentor echoed it a second later, a predatory grin crossing his face.
    “Time to hunt a Wraith.”

Chapter Eight
     
    Snap! Ronon tensed, then forced himself to relax. He uncurled his fingers from around the butt of his pistol, unclenched his stomach muscles and his jaw, lay flat again, and forced himself to breathe slowly. Patience. He had to have patience.
    Where were the damned Wraith? Why weren’t they here yet?
    It had been over three hours since he and Nekai had separated. Nekai had suggested they wait another day, until they had both eaten and slept and Ronon had recovered from the stress and tension and effort of their recent mutual hunt. But Ronon had refused.
    “Now,” he’d insisted. “I want to do this now.”
    Nekai had decided not to argue. Probably he had seen the determination — what Melena had often called the “stonewall stubborn” on his face. Or maybe he had just accepted that it would be better to get this out of the way once and for all.
    Besides, resting hadn’t really been an option. During the hunt there’d been the risk that the Wraith might detect their signals and come looking for either or both of them. Disguising the tracking devices now would only intrigue any Wraith already in the area. They’d either have to flee to another planet immediately — or let the Wraith come, and deal with them once they arrived.
    Ronon was all for the latter. He’d been itching to kill Wraith since they’d first attacked his homeworld, and that itch had grown into an all-consuming rage once they’d killed Melena and the rest of Sateda and taken him captive. He’d suppressed the desire while training only by constantly reminding himself that what Nekai was teaching him would make him better able to kill Wraith and in much greater quantities.
    Well, now it was time to put that to the test.
    So Nekai had headed back toward a cave he’d selected for just such a purpose — the minerals in the walls would make him more difficult to pinpoint, he claimed. And Ronon had selected a likely spot, set a few snares and other traps, and settled