A/N: I do not own the characters! Thanks to Moey (My Beta N Partna' in Crime) for helping me make this first chapter as perfect as possible. Enjoy!

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A gust of wind followed by a face full of sea brine continued in its normal pattern over and over again. He wiped the stinging salt water out of his eyes and kept fighting the swirling surf. The violent tide drenched him until his clothing became a heavy mass that pulled him down. He plunged head first under an upcoming wave and then rose above the water, lungs expanding and sucking in the salty air.

He could see it just up ahead: Devils Cavern. Distant shouts were approaching him and as he turned back to see if they were gaining on him a wave destructively slammed him down. The water seeped into his nostrils and roughly slipped down his throat. He gasped for a shred of air but the water weight him down until his back touched the seabed.

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"Lets go men!" the Captain barked at his measly crew. They might have been few in numbers but they were strong with cat-like reflexes and quick, sharp minds. Scrambling about, not in confusion, but in quick and decisive order, they took their posts. All of them scattered about the deck.

"Captain!" called out a short, bald, man who was busy tying the rope of the Fore Sail down.

Ronon looked down at him from the Quarter Deck and nodded, "What is it Lazar?"

"Captain, where exactly are we going?" Lazar asked him with pure and utter confusion playing on his face.

"Tortuga," he answered his small but built crewman. At that, the crew's commotion stopped and in one single uproar, cheers broke out for the good news.

Ronon's expression stayed serious as he signaled for the commotion to stop and the work to continue. His men, now motivated, continued their chorus. All of the men were tawny or deep brown in color-from the sun and sea but ranged from different races, heights, and ages.

Leaning on the back of his massive ship, a Brigatine, he stared at the sea-green water as it caressed the rudder. It was near sundown and water seemed to turn a purplish blue color. The weather was perfect, the sky was a deep orange-purple, but he wasn't in a good mood.

He had spent eight years of his life out on these bottomless waters and it felt as though he found nothing.

Of course throughout the years he built up his booty and his skills as a swordsman. He had traveled to far off lands and had seen things no other man had the pleasure of seeing. He even picked up a few nicknames and a reputation as a fierce pirate along the way.

Not that he minded the titles he received; some of them reminded him of his father - which was always a good thing. But it all seemed like an empty treasure chest to him. The gold didn't fill it, the women didn't do anything but fill his life with a few minutes of pleasure, and the sights he saw weren't as magical to him as they were to everyone else.

"Ronon," his first mate and best friend, Solen, snapped him out of his sulky stare. Solen had been a great friend to him and had accompanied him on his travels, no matter the dangers.

"Solen," Ronon acknowledged his friend, who had dimples so deep, he got the nickname Caverns because of them.

"I think we're going to be meeting up with that merchant ship in a couple of hours," Solen leaned on the rail next to his friend.

"Good, then we should get our loot ready," Ronon pushed off of the rail and briskly walked down the stairs to the Main Deck, with Solen close behind.

"Oh and we need to remember to take down that Jolly Roger when we're done," Ronon motioned to the massive black pirate flag.

Solen smirked and nodded, then turned to bark orders at the crew. Ronon smiled at his diligent men before proceeding into the Captain's Cabin.

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Phssst ..Phhsssssttt

Elizabeth Weir turned slightly towards the voice whispering sputters behind her. However; she didn't see a thing. She redirected her attention back to the Governor's Ball. Actually, it was her fathers ball, who happened to be the Governor. Simon, her fiancé, was busy getting drunk and talking to a group of young women across the room. She wondered if anyone would notice that he was slowly getting intoxicated. Most of all she wondered if her father would believe that his "right hand man", was behaving with less than impeccable elegance. However, she was glad that he wasn't being sloppy about it.

She could see her father mingling with another group of young women who were attending. Elizabeth smiled to herself, her father always attempted to accomplish a certain level of charm. No matter the occasion, he was always on a mission to be suave. Of course, at times, he could prove to be strict - but, after all, that was what got him the job as Governor of Montserrat.

Phssstt hey!

She smiled at the two people in front of her and yet again sneaked a look into the shadows behind her, hoping to uncover who was calling her. Her hands clasped behind her back, she tried not to appear too obvious while looking back into nothingness but darkness.

"Is there something wrong Elizabeth?" asked Simon appearing out of nowhere. Jumping back into place, she faced him.

"Oh no nothing," she smiled thinking she must have looked foolish. Simon smiled his fake smile, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Where were you?" she asked, but didn't look at her fiancée's face, "I was waiting for you."

"Oh, I had some business I had to attend to of darling," he seemed to mutter as he answered her. She smiled, Must have came from your mistresses house then.

It was no doubt that he was unfaithful. She could see it on his face, but it was no matter, this is the day and age when everyone has a mistress or two, or so she kept telling herself. It hurt her, sure, but she had no choice. Men weren't easily drawn to her. Not because she was unattractive but because she was different. She was outspoken. Many men didn't like that. They preferred their women: quite, polite, and obedient. Elizabeth was only one out of three: polite.

"Well, what did I miss?" Simon asked, brushing his hand over her smooth arm. She pulled away slightly and answered him diplomatically,

"Nothing..."

"Oh darling just a moment, I must go over to Countess Olivia and greet her." He walked away briskly towards a plump woman in a bright yellow gown.

Elizabeth nodded politely at him, "Yes, and take her to bed later on I suppose," she muttered under her breath.

Elizabeth!

She sighed in frustration and turned around violently at the voice calling out to her for the third time.

"YES!" she blustered at the shadow while still trying to keep herself calm.

"It's Rodney!" the voice whispered back.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth approached the shadowed back of the hall.

"Wait!" Rodney warned, "You can't see me!"

"Why not!" she stood in front of him, but she couldn't see him. He was in the darkest part of the corner, cleverly cloaked by shadows.

"Because of that damn Sheppard!" Rodney exclaimed in a hush tone.

"What did he do now!" Elizabeth knew it must have been bad. The two of them were pulling pranks on each other for the last two weeks non-stop. It started when John filled Rodney's workroom with dead fish. Then Rodney got him back by putting some powder in the flowers John was giving to one of his admirers. When the poor girl smelt them, she got a nasty rash all over her pale face. All of this practical joking caused her over-protective brother to chase after John. Back and forth, they had been terrorizing each other.

"He..." Rodney cleared his throat, "stole my pants."

"What!" she gasped. She refused to think it was funny - even though she was holding back laughter with a sheer force.

"Do I even want to know how he managed to steal your trousers!" She brushed her hands over her eyes as Rodney slightly moved out from the shadows.

"Look! Brilliant men sometimes... lose their pant, alright!" Rodney hissed.

Now it was getting even more difficult to hold back the explosive laughter that was boiling inside of her.

"What?" Rodney stared blankly at his curly haired friend. She realized he had no idea that the light from the dance floor was revealing his naked skinny legs.

She burst out laughing; it was too much to handle, "Rodney, I see you!" Rodney looked down, still confused, shrieked and jumped back into the safety of his shadows.

"Just go find my pants!" he growled at her.

Elizabeth turned around and set off to find John. She managed to calm herself, but chuckled when she thought of Rodney half-naked. It was just too much. Rodney had always been one of the smartest men she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was brilliant but everyone thought him as strange. He kept most of his experiments and creations a secret, except for sharing them with Elizabeth and John.

John Sheppard was flirting with a group of girls right across the ball room from where Elizabeth found the shamed Rodney McKay. Elizabeth smirked to herself.

The young women, were forcefully laughing and batting their eyelashes. Pathetic she thought to herself and rolled her eyes, they have to force themselves to laugh at his bad jokes.

She strolled over to him, with a slight swing in her hips making her red gown sway to and fro. She didn't even need to speak. She caught John's eye in a split second. A small smile crept upon his lips as he saw her eyeing him. She stood a few feet away from his group of admirers, waiting for him to approach her. Like clockwork he excused himself from the ladies and walked over to her with a coy smile.

" 'Lizabeth," he greeted her with enthusiasm. She had known John Sheppard since they were children. At that time, his father was already dead, but he was rowdy and full of life. It was about the same time she met Rodney McKay. However, unlike Rodney, John knew how to stay on her sweet side.

"John," Elizabeth said calmly, "Where are Rodney's pants?"

John looked at the floor, "I don't know," he muttered.

"John," she warned mother-like.

"Ok," he forfeited, "I'll get them for him."

"Good," assented Elizabeth, "He's hiding in that corner." She pointed to the far left corner on the other side of the room.

"Wow, still piss scared," John shook his head in disapproval, "and to think after all these years. . ." Elizabeth smirked and let out a small chuckle.

"Glad to see you don't have to force yourself to find me funny." indicated the young Commodore.

She could have sworn he was flirting with her. However, she was never sure of his intentions. He was either hot or cold. When they were still young they would hold hands while walking on the beach. But one day it just stopped. At one point he wouldn't even talk to her. She even thought that they were about to kiss one day a few years ago, but Rodney walked in on them at just the wrong moment.

Rodney always had a gift for impeccable timing. She thought to herself.

"Just get the pants John," She enjoined.

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A rowboat carried Ronon and Solen across the small distance that divided their ship and the merchant boat. They had been trading with the Genii for three years now. Ronon didn't see them as warm and caring but Solen seemed too. Although the value of their character didn't matter, they needed a steady supply of food and water. He had no other choice but to create a friendship with at least one merchant ship.

"Aye up there!" Solen called out to the small boat. Soon after three men helped them get aboard to begin their business.

Cowen, the captain of the merchant ship, greeted the two. Cowen wasn't a pleasant looking man, in fact, Ronon didn't think he ever saw him smile - he always carried a stiff scowl.

"Let's get down to business," Cowen said cooly, "You left your weapons onboard correct!"

Ronon and Solen nodded in unison as Cowen nodded slightly in approval.

"Ok, this is what we need," Solen handed Cowen a list of the needed supplies. Cowen called one of his men over and explained what the buccaneers wanted.

" 'Been a tough year for us," Cowen looked at Ronon, "You've seen the seas these last few month."

"Nothing my ship can't handle," Ronon smirked proudly. It was true Ronon Dex was known for having one of the fiercest ships in the world. He had traveled to Turkey, France, and England all while having the best people work on it.

"Ow!" a loud scream came from one of the cabins on Cowen's ship. A man, whom Ronon knew as Kolya, came up top.

"The wench bit me." Koyla bawled while applying pressure to his thumb.

"Beat her then!" Cowen exclaimed at his crewman. Cowen had the power to appear cold-hearted at any moment - for this Ronon always thought he would make a better pirate then a merchant salesman.

Koyla smiled evilly while dragging a young woman, with her hands bound, up on the top deck.

Ronon's temper began to rise; he could feel his heart pumping blood throughout his body, his adrenaline was quickly rising.

"Slavery is part of your trade now Cowen?" Ronon quibbled, biting the inside of his bottom lip lightly.

Cowen shot the Captain an annoyed look, "I don't see this as any concern for a pirate."

Before Ronon could speak, Solen pulled him to the side.

"Don't do anything stupid," he warned Ronon. He could tell Ronon had 'death' written in his eyes.

"Solen," Ronon stared down at his friend, "We don't take slavery too lightly, I don't know if you remember, but we attack slave ships!"

Solen looked up at his friend with a feeling of shame that he swallowed. "I know . . . but we have been trading with them for a while now Ronon, do you know how hard it is to find merchants who trade with pirates?"

"Why are we trading with merchants anyway; when we can just steal from them?" Ronon speculated.

"Because we need at least one legitimate source of cargo." Solen sighed in annoyance and continued, "What happens the next time we get stuck at sea with no supplies!"

They heard a smack followed by shriek of pain. Ronon's head shot up at the direction of the woman's voice. Koyla left a cut straight across her back. Her wound looked deep and the blood glistened in the sun. She was kneeling on the ground with her back turned to them. Even though her face was covered, the pain was obvious to see. Her body trembled but Ronon could tell the woman was strong. She didn't move from her position on the deck, she just trembled in pain.

Koyla raised the rope, ready to strike her small back once again, but Ronon's rage couldn't be contained.

"Stop!" He shouted, with threatening venom in his voice. Koyla looked surprised; he even put down the rope for a split second to look at Ronon's enraged face.

"This is none of your business!" Cowen informed him, "Koyla...continue!"

"No! ...I want to buy her!" Ronon directed his statement towards Cowen but never took his eyes off of Koyla and the woman.

Cowen stayed silent and licked his lips hungrily. He must have been thinking about the highest price he safely present to the pirates because he had greed written in his irises. "Really?" Cowen said calmly while trying to read Ronon's face.

"Yes, I'll give you one third of the loot I have in that pouch we brought with us." Ronon offered his price.

Cowen licked his thin lips and squinted his small eyes in question.

"No...I want half of the loot you have for the girl." Cowen rejected Ronon's price.

"What?" Solen cut in, "For one slave?" He shook his head, "No way in hell!"

Cowen shrugged, "Alright mates!" A slender knowing smirk appeared on his round face, "Koyla!"

His crewmen smiled and in a swift move of the wrist hit the young slave over her back; leaving a new, smaller, mark next to the bigger one. He raised the rope again to indicate another hit but instead he waited for Cowen to give him orders.

"Okay, half!" Ronon pleaded. His face gave away the desperation he had to save the slave woman.

"Okay gentlemen," Cowen laughed lightly and rubbed his dry palms against each other in triumph. It made Ronon sick to see someone rejoice in making money on a person in anguish.

Cowen motioned Koyla to bring the girl over to them. Koyla gathered more rope and bound the young woman's feet together.

Ronon knew his crew would be disappointed with the small supply they acquired but it was the best he could do. He got supplies to last them at most a month. That would mean they would have to stop very soon. Koyla picked the woman up over his shoulder and brought her over to the two buccaneers. She was passed out and Ronon quickly took her from Koyla and placed her over his shoulder in the same fashion. Solen signaled to their crewmen and four more boats came over to the merchant ship to pick up the supplies.

The woman was unaware that she was even sold. Ronon didn't even have a chance to see her face. All he could do was stare at her curvy body's back.

"The wounds could get infected," Ronon indicated.

Solen on the other hand was red hot. He didn't say a single word the entire ride back to the ship. He rowed the boat at a stead pace with a stiff upper lip. Ronon noticed this, but decided he couldn't deal with it at this moment. The most important thing was to get the young woman on board to some medical attention.