WESTWARD TO PEGASUS

By Space-Age Scribe

John Sheppard arrived in Pegasus Valley simply wanting a fresh start after finally ending his military career. He never expected to find a family in the people of Atlantis ... or that his worst nightmare had preceded him. Western AU.

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me but rather to their rightful owners. Occasional plot lines and dialogue borrowed from the Stargate: Atlantis series. I just wanted to place our favorite characters in a new setting and put John Sheppard in Levi's and a duster.

Rating: K+ for some references to the personal fall-out of war, but nothing graphic

Pairings: Some John/Teyla and implied Jennifer/Ronon and Amelia/Ronon, but they generally all play it cool

Author's note: Hi, Everyone! This is the SGA western AU that I have been talking about for some time and have finally gotten around to publishing. There will be appearances by many of your favorite Atlantis characters. Enjoy!

Westward to Pegasus

Chapter 1

The scout in the rocks above watched the man on the valley floor as his two horses slowly pulled a wagon toward town. The man had been traveling for a long time – his clothing and even his hair had once been black but were now grey from the dust.

The scout turned his binoculars to the contents of the wagon. There wasn't much – some pots and pans, a coil of rope, some tools. This wasn't even a covered wagon. His target didn't seem to own much of value. The scout might have considered taking a chance and trying to secure some basic supplies, but he saw the two shotguns, most likely loaded, sitting on the seat next to the driver.

Lowering his binoculars, the scout watched from a distance as the horses plodded onward, their breath visible in the cold mountain air. This man wasn't worth the risk.

The scout settled back and waited for an easier target to pass by.

O~o~O~o~O

John Sheppard sat a bit easier once the rocky ledge receded into the distance. It would have been a good place for an ambush; he could feel eyes on him as he passed through.

Down the valley, next to the river, John could see the town of Atlantis. It was really nothing more than a small collection of wooden buildings with a street running down the center. The backdrop was stunning – green meadows ran along the winding river, and at the far end of the valley stood snow-capped mountains. The one blurry photograph John had seen had not done justice to the scenery.

John grinned. He liked this place already.

O~o~O~o~O

He drove slowly down the main street, conscious of the people who stopped to stare at the new face in town. He knew he must be quite a sight by now after weeks of traveling all the way from the East to get here. In some ways, he was disappointed that he had arrived. He had enjoyed the time alone, away from the incessant gossiping and prodding he had endured back East. Here, he was a stranger.

He wasn't actually sure at what moment he decided to go to Atlantis. He'd heard there were a lot of ex-military men out here, men who had shared the same experiences. No sooner had he received his military release papers than he was pulled aside by an officer named O'Neill who said he'd been out west and thought it'd be a good match for Sheppard.

On his right, John could see a school. Outside, several children clung to a short man with spectacles and wild hair. The teacher looked horrified, as though he would rather scrape the children off than play with them. John chuckled and continued on.

He drew up at the barn behind the hotel, making sure the wagon was secured and his horses had been properly fed and watered. Those animals had been his steadfast companions these past few weeks, and he intended to take good care of them.

After securing a room at the town's only hotel, John made his way over to the town office to conduct business.

O~o~O~o~O

"Good afternoon," a woman said, looking up from the papers she was sorting through as John walked through the door. Her expression suggested that he probably did look as rough as he thought he did.

"'Afternoon, ma'am," he said, ruffling his hair to try and remove some of the dust. "I've come to see the town clerk."

"You've found her, as well as the mayor," the woman said with a slight grin. This stranger wasn't bad looking at all, especially once he cleaned up a bit. She mentally chastised herself since such thoughts were really not her style. "How may I help you?"

The woman, who was tall and thin with dark hair, was friendly enough, but John could sense a steely resolve underlying her demeanor. He sensed that the usual charm wouldn't work on her, not that he needed it in this situation.

"I just arrived in town. I need to file the papers on my claim," he said, handing over several documents.

Elizabeth Weir glanced over them for a moment. "Ah, you're the man taking over the Sumner place. I was wondering when you would arrive."

"Well, the trip out from Washington took a while," he said nonchalantly.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "I imagine it did," she said.

She quickly processed his paperwork and handed back the stamped documents. "Good luck out there, Mr. Sheppard. This isn't really the Wild West any more, but we have our fair share of trouble," she said. "Take care of yourself."

That was one order John planned to follow. "Yes, ma'am," he said, slipping on his hat and opening the door.

O~o~O~o~O

John could hear that the dry-goods store had customers long before he stepped inside.

"No, no, no! I told you, this copper wire is the wrong width! How difficult can it possibly be to write a few numbers down and transmit them with the order?" came an annoying voice that turned out to belong to a slightly balding man wearing clothing more suited to a city back east than the edge of civilization.

"I can't help it if that's what they send me. If you haven't noticed, my suppliers aren't exactly right around the corner," said the man behind the counter. Judging from the patience in his voice, John guessed he had to deal with this customer on a regular basis and had to exercise self-discipline to keep from killing the man. After all, murder was bad for business.

"Now Mr. McKay…" the owner continued.

"It's Doctor. Doctor Rodney McKay. Not that you would know the difference," the annoying customer shot back.

The man behind the counter, a bit shorter than McKay with dark brown hair and a twinkle in his eye, was unperturbed. "Whatever. The point is, I can't readily get whatever it is you want whenever you want it. I'm dependent upon my suppliers shipping in things from back East. If you don't like what you get, find somewhere else to get it."

While the two men continued their antagonistic banter, John wandered around the shop looking at the goods that lined the walls behind the counters. After a few minutes, McKay left in a huff. The shopkeeper turned his attention to John.

"Is he always like that?" John asked, nodding in the direction of the now-empty doorway.

"No, he's usually much worse," the shopkeeper said dryly.

John chuckled. "So how do you put up with him?"

"We don't have much of a choice here. Besides, he is very intelligent – we just don't tell him that. He has managed to jury-rig quite a lot of machinery and technology for us, including getting Pegasus Valley hooked up to the main telegraph lines to the East," he said.

"So no one has shot him yet?" John asked.

"No, but we've all been tempted at some point," the shopkeeper said. "You living around here? You may get your chance."

"Yeah, John Sheppard," the taller man said, shaking hands with the shopkeeper. "I'm settling on the farm that used to be held by a man named Sumner, I guess."

"Evan Lorne … sir," the shopkeeper said once he caught a glimpse of the military-issued revolver in one of the holsters beneath Sheppard's coat. He caught the look on Sheppard's face. "Sorry, old habits die hard."

"No problem, Mr. Lorne. You fought in the war, too?"

Lorne nodded. "Yup, Cavalry. Always did like riding a fast horse. There are a lot of us out here; just trying to put some distance between ourselves and the battlefields, I guess."

John understood that better than most. The more action a soldier had seen, the less likely he was to talk about it. It seemed he was among like-minded folks here.

Both men's tones suggested they should talk about something else. John cleared his throat.

"So, what happened to Sumner? I just know he died, but no one said how."

Lorne grimaced. "No one's exactly sure when he disappeared or what happened because hunters didn't find his body until the following spring. It was kind of desiccated after being out in the snow for so long, but it looks like he might have been killed by the Wraith Gang while he was out hunting or exploring in the mountains."

"The Wraith Gang?" John asked. This was news to him.

Lorne nodded. "It's a band of outlaws that have been plaguing people for miles around. They sweep in and take everything a homesteader has, and they aren't beyond being violent, just for fun. People say that the Wraith Gang even wiped out some of the native villages north of here."

John was shocked. "Hasn't the law been out looking for them? How can people live with that danger?"

All Lorne could do was shrug. "No one has been successful in fighting them. They've just learned to live with the danger and to have a hiding place so that they can keep their families safe. The gang is led by a man named Acastus Kolya, and no one dares challenge him."

At the mention of the gang leader's name, John felt the air rush out of him like someone had just punched him in the gut. They might as well have done so; that one name conjured up everything that John Sheppard had been trying to put behind him.

His worst nightmare had preceded him to Pegasus Valley.

TBC