Dominion

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AN: I've decided to start another episode-based, team-centric story. It takes place roughly mid-season three, before the episode 'Sunday'. The idea came to me recently, so I've started it, obviously. I'm going to try to stick to the idea that it's a fan episode, so while the banter and suspense may be up, my usual, overwhelming hurt/comfort moments will be put on a leash…at least until later. I won't torture the characters as much this time around…

…much.

This is not a sequel to Rules of War. Sorry. I left that one open-ended for a future oneshot, but this fic is an independent. Once I decide what to do with the ending of Rules of War, I'll write the oneshot sequel.

Expect a good story, anyway. And don't be afraid to tell me what I'm doing wrong. (smile)

Summary: Sheppard and his team are caught between two feuding militia in an undying battle for control of the planet's Stargate. Unable to negotiate with either side, they have to rely on what little resources they have to stay alive…

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Chapter One: The Odd Are Against Us

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Sheppard knew he couldn't trust a MALP.

He, Ronon, Teyla and McKay had been surrounded almost as soon as they were outside the 'gate. Three of their new friends stood around the MALP, which still hadn't moved from the spot they left it. As far as he was concerned, they could have it. It didn't exactly do its job warning them of the small army waiting for them on the other side.

Forced to their knees with the hands bound behind their backs, Sheppard's team now knelt in a line, dead center of the observing soldiers. Their uniforms were pastel greens and grays—kind of like a solid body suit with tough, leather chest plates, arm and leg gear, and weird shaped helmets.

And they had guns.

Well, some of them did. The ones who didn't were sporting some mean-looking crossbows and long, jagged knives. They fell into a whole other category of 'deadly'.

So far, their leader hadn't stepped forward to make introductions. After a few minutes of talking out loud, Sheppard learned that no one was interested in listening to him. McKay gave up a few minutes later, making their wait in the 'gate clearing a little less irritating and a lot more frustrating. Until the sun reached its zenith, that is.

Beside him, Rodney squirmed against his ties…for about the trillionth time. Next to him, Ronon grunted his annoyance.

"Would you please stop doing that?" he asked.

Rodney didn't stop, unsurprisingly. "Well, excuse me if my arms are killing me," he snapped right back. Then he muttered, "It's not like you're doing anything to help…"

"Boys," warned Sheppard, which earned him a moment of stillness…and silence.

The sun was hot, and the day had already been longer than it needed to be. On Atlantis, the idea of traveling to FT9-319 had been perfectly safe. No lifesigns within a reasonable distance...or any distance for that matter. Actually, Dr. Weir wasn't scheduled to send reinforcements through from her end until and hour after they failed to check in. That was six hours from now. It had been a few hours already, and Sheppard tried to think about something other than the painful ache in his knees. With about twenty-five guns trained on him right now, shifting his weight was a pretty big gamble.

Teyla glanced around at their captors. "Perhaps they are waiting for their leader to arrive,"

"I don't know," Sheppard said quietly. No one seemed to be paying any real attention to them, but then, they were outnumbered three to one. "Is it just me, or do all of these guys look the same?"

"Really?" said Rodney. "I hadn't noticed, because all I can think about is their weapons!"

"Calm down, Rodney." The colonel glared at him through the corner of his eye. "Just be glad they aren't using them. Teyla, are you sure you've never seen these guys before?"

"Yes," she replied. "I do not recognize their clothing or their weapons, but there is something unusual about their faces…"

"I don't see it," said Ronon.

"It takes a trained eye."

The voice was obviously addressed to them and it came from behind. Sheppard immediately twisted around to look at their approaching captor as he moved into full view. A tall guy, with broad shoulders and thick, unkempt hair tied into a queue strode across the plateau and came to a casual halt in front of the colonel. He had a swagger, like a a drunk in a bar who had no idea that he was milliseconds away from toppling over. Sheppard really didn't like guys with swaggers.

The Tall Guy crouched down, well within head-butting range, and put on a pretense of looking thoughtful.

"That's funny. You don't look Odarnian," he said.

Sheppard could practically feel Rodney mouthing the word 'Odarnian' with a contemptuous comment soon to follow, so he spoke up first: "You'd be surprised how often we get that."

Their captor didn't look amused, but at least he didn't strike out at him. "I would save your charming drollness for later. On this planet, being disrespectful is the fastest way to losing your tongue."

"We'll keep that in mind," said Sheppard. "Now, I hate to be the one to say this, but your guys' hospitality really sucks."

"I'm not surprised." The tall man stood up and sidestepped towards McKay. He looked down at the shrinking scientist with a diverted expression. "But I am curious. Which one of you is the leader?"

"I am," said Sheppard.

"Is that so?" Tall Guy raised an eyebrow and he slowly stooped towards Rodney.

There was a taught feeling in Sheppard's chest--the same one that came on every time someone threatened one of his team. It was a bad feeling. It usually came right before something bad and there was always a bad taste in his mouth. The little routine things in life were glorious...until they happened to involve the harassment of his friends.

And sure enough, there was a glint of metal; their overbearing captor had pressed the edge of a knife against McKay's jaw and drawn a fresh, though very shallow, line of blood.

Sheppard's body tensed. Ronon sprung forward, restrained only by the soldiers (built like rocks, Sheppard noted) who grabbed him and hauled him back. Teyla glared daggers at their captor, but remained in her silent wrath. McKay flinched slightly, but to his credit, he didn't make a sound.

"I think," said their captor, leaning back and wiping the edge of the knife on a white rag. "That you're not lying, foreigner. A leader doesn't openly show his emotions when his friends are threatened. Nor does he cower in fear, like this one. And true leaders are certainly never…female," he added, eyeing Teyla with disdain.

"Oh, I think you would be very surprised," she replied evenly.

"Hey, I don't like it when people poke holes in my friends," Sheppard cut in. "We haven't done anything wrong, so why don't you just untie us, and let us go back through the Stargate to where we came from?"

"And wouldn't that be ideal? Allow you to return home with full knowledge of our existence? So that you can gather your reinforcements and take this Gate by force?"

"This is all starting to sound a little familiar, and I don't like where it's going." Sheppard straightened himself, despite the ache in his arms from being roped together for so long. "Look: we're peaceful explorers. We came to this planet because we want to investigate the Ancient ruins. We're not interested in taking anything by force."

"Yet you brought weapons."

This time, Rodney was through with being quiet and complacent. "Yes, we brought weapons," he snapped. "We'd have to be complete idiots to not bring weapons, because people like you have this uncanny tendency to make our lives a lot harder!"

"Rodney," Sheppard warned under his breath.

Their lead captor wasn't fazed by McKay's angry display. "So, if I'm to believe that you're peaceful explorers," he said, pretending to seem thoughtful. He began to stride in a close, exaggerated circle around the team. "Then I will need proof. Prove to me that you're not hostile. What kind of…information have you found in your travels? Where are you from? What brings you here? What…are your names?"

Sheppard felt like a mouse being interrogated by a cat, and knew that it was an intended feeling. Instead of playing his game, however, he decided to make his own. "We'll tell you all that and more," he said dispassionately, glaring upwards. "If you tell us why you're guarding this 'gate."

Tall Guy's brow furled. "Have I been too clandestine? How rude of me. It's no secret, actually. This Interplanetary Gate belongs to me, foreigner. I'm simply protecting it from the Odarnian bastards from the south. Now that you know this, why not tell me who you are and what it is you are really doing here?"

Sheppard had to hand it to him: he knew how to be a sneaky, professional interrogator. His first impression of the guy had been something a little too like Kolya for comfort, but he was far more diplomatic than that—he was smart enough to know that psychology earned more answers than brute force.

If it weren't for the blood dripping from McKay's chin, he might have even considered being friends with the guy. But yeah…Tall Guy had missed his chance.

"My name is Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard. This is my team: Ronon, Teyla and Dr. McKay. We're…what's left of an expedition that used to be in the city of Atlantis."

"Before we blew it up," McKay added unhappily, playing along with the story despite his discomfort.

"I've heard of Atlantis," Tall Guy admitted, narrowing his eyes. "It is a shame, destroying such a sacred place to save the lives of just a few hundred."

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Isn't it always?" Tall Guy clasped his hands behind his back in a posture that seemed…well, rehearsed. "My name is Endelas. I govern the Dolosus Clan military attachment. For now, I will release you. If you try anything that isn't—peaceful—I will order my men to shoot you on the spot."

Although it was a fair trade, Sheppard still grimaced. "There, see? We're capable of getting along, after all. Aren't we, Ronon?"

The Satedan was still glaring at Endelas with extreme hatred. Maybe this was due to the fact that he was still tied up—beacause a tied up Ronon was an angry Ronon no matter who was at fault. But Sheppard had a feeling it was in part due to Endelas's scorn of Teyla, for her gender, his disrespect for Sheppard's leadership and his bullying of McKay. Endelas had done three of the top five things in the 'most likely to make Ronon see red' category.

Still. If they were going to make it out of this situation without any casualties, Sheppard had to make Ronon get a hold of himself. And luckily, the larger man found it grudgingly bearable to sit still and express his feelings for Endelas with bitter silence.

Endelas waved his hand—signaling his men—and the handful of personal guards lowered their knives to cut the bonds on each of their wrists. Sheppard half-figured Ronon would leap to his feet and start an all-out brawl, but then, the man wasn't stupid. They were outmatched, and Endelas didn't seem like the kind of guy to promise imminent death as a hobby.

"You're unarmed and outnumbered," their captor announced, as though they needed to be reminded. Sheppard eyed Teyla, and the four teammates exchanged the usual glances. Rodney was wiping at the nick on his face, muttering something about monkeys with sharp rocks, as Endelas went on.

"I doubt you'll do anything rash to jeopardize your lives, but should you feel the urge, remember that all of my men are expert marksmen. We could, of course, bypass all over this unnecessary threatening and move on to more important things."

"Like what?" Ronon demanded darkly.

As curious as he was to know the answer, Sheppard found himself unable to stop staring at the host of nonchalant soldiers milling around. Every one of them seemed to be doing something other than keeping an eye on the group of prisoners. Even their personal escort service was blank-eyed and bored. Either they had way too many offworld visitors, or there was something else going on here that was even more creepy…

Not for the first time, he really wished he'd said 'no' to the FT9-319 mission when he had the chance.

"For now, let's trust not in each other, but in our common goal," Endelas was saying as four of the big, tough soldiers move in behind them.

Sheppard motioned to the others to follow him as they began to call clear across the 'gate site, past the DRD and in an organized group towards the line of trees.

"Which is?" he asked.

"Knowledge. What else? You can't deny that you're adept in the Ancestors technology. I examined the items that were confiscated from you very thoroughly."

Which explains why we had to wait for two and half goddamned hours in the sun, thought the colonel. He heard McKay snort behind him, and already knew that the scientist was going to throw a fit if any of his delicate equipment was tampered with in any way. The last time anyone had moronically taken control of Rodney's electronic toys, he'd complained for a month over a tablet that supposedly held a great deal of research he'd gathered on his 'unlimited energy sources' project. To be fair, Zelenka did nearly as much grouching. This time, Sheppard found himself almost wishing that nothing would be damaged…or recovered. Not with all that Earth-related, Atlantis-still-existing information just waiting to be discovered by the wrong hands.

"Dr. McKay," Endelas said thoughtfully. "Am I to understand that you practice medicine? None of your personal effect suggests that you're a real doctor."

"Huh," McKay replied haughtily, in spite Sheppard's look of extreme annoyance. "If it's not too painfully difficult for you grasp, then yes, I am. I'm a doctor of science, which by the way, are the only kind that actually do anything useful."

"What McKay means to say is, he's a scientist. I'm sure you've got a few of those laying around somewhere back at home," said Sheppard.

"Several. What do you know of the Interplanetary Gates?"

Before Sheppard could stop him, Rodney had shot back.

"Everything," the scientist griped, unhappy though content to be distracted by the round of twenty questions. "Which brings me to mention how absolutely pointless it is to be guarding the 'gate with an army that could make William Wallace weep. I mean, seriously, does it take a genius to figure out how to remove a few—"

"Rodney, I think you sound a little tired. Why don't you hang back with Ronon for a bit?" Sheppard practically growled in McKay's face.

McKay knew immediately that he'd said too much, blanched, and stopped dead in his tracks. Only to have Ronon slap an arm on his back and push him forward, causing him to stumble out of his daze. "Oh, God," he said under his breath.

"You have interesting friends, Colonel Sheppard," surmised Endelas with a wry grin. "This pressing need to have you all executed is getting weaker, I'll admit."

Their entourage was reaching the pit of a dark swell, the trees overhanging like monsters from a storybook, but broken by an occasional ray of sun. The foliage was clumped very thick here, though rather than getting deeper, the humid forest simply…ended. Sheppard spotted a grassy clearing—or rather, the edge of a cliff—just ahead through the edge of the trees.

"I'd like to introduce you to the Ragnarok—my home and my base of operations," said their captor-in-chief, as the group approached the enormous gap beyond the cliff.

The be perfectly fair—this wasn't what Sheppard expected. A village, a bunch of square buildings; maybe even an old, abandoned Ancient outpost. But down there, at the bottom of the long, sheer drop was a sixty thousand metric ton wonder.

On the red-brown plateau that spanned for eternity, was the Ancient's version of a battle-class cruiser.

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TBC