Chapter 3

Head throbbing like he might be about to have an aneurism, McKay clutched his forehead in his palms and grumbled that he thought he might be dying. And right at this moment, he actually meant it.

'Yeah, you said that already,' Ford muttered, throwing him a murderous glare from where he lay on the bed next to his. 'Several times. And yet you still have the energy to complain.'

'Oh, that's nice. Here I am feeling like my brain's about to explode and you're making jokes at my expense!'

'Yeah, maybe that's 'cos I feel the same way and you're making things worse.'

Admittedly, the bruise now forming on the left side of Ford's forehead did look painful, but Rodney figured that since he was a jarhead he should be able to handle that kind of thing. Physical punishment had to be in the training. But he was just a scientist. Pain really wasn't his thing. When the Medulsan women had jumped them to bring them to their current location, Ford had valiantly tried to hold them off, a futile battle if he'd just done the math, and now he was suffering the consequences...in fact, they both were. They really should have surrendered...that would have been the smart thing to do.

'So what now?' Ford demanded, sitting up to face him.

McKay lifted his head from his stinking mattress, his blood pressure instantly soaring. 'Why're you asking me? How should I know?'

'Because Sheppard told you what was supposed to happen.'

McKay rolled his eyes. 'Some vague details, yes. I'm sorry, I thought I'd already made it perfectly clear that we're off script, otherwise we'd be back in Atlantis planning our next move over a cup of coffee and a bagel in Elizabeth's office right now! Oh, God, why did I have to say that? I'm starving!'

He looked across at the numerous filthy mattresses dotted about the floor around him, putrid and badly stuffed, considering just how far this place was from the pristine orderliness of their boss's office. Who knew how many germs were hanging around in this place? What he wouldn't give for some anti-bacterial scrub and a face mask right now. This place was a life-threatening disease just waiting to happen. His appetite thankfully subsided at the sight of it all.

'Okay. So we're off script. What do we have to do to get us back on track?' the lieutenant asked, his strategic mind kicking into gear.

'Get back to Atlantis, of course,' McKay snapped. 'Am I really being that obtuse or are you just as dense as I've always feared?'

'Hey, don't go taking this out on me,' Ford threatened, his jaw tight and fists balling. 'It's not my fault we're here...and at least I'm trying to figure a way out of this.'

'Well, it's not my fault either,' McKay protested, rubbing his sore wrists. 'Metal manacles? Who uses these things anymore? My skin chafes really easily; these things'll rub me raw before the day's out.'

'McKay, if you don't stop whining, chafing is gonna be the least of your worries,' Ford promised him. 'Now quit complaining and help me figure out a way to get us out of here and back to the jumper.'

'Are you kidding, in these chains?' McKay snorted, holding up his reddened wrists. 'We'd be caught before we got a hundred yards.'

'So we have to figure out a way to get out of these first,' Ford countered. 'Can you see how to pick the locks?'

Again McKay rolled his eyes. 'They're most likely a simple single barrel locking mechanism, easy enough to pick if you have a slim piece of metal to manipulate it. Do you have one?'

Ford looked down at himself and huffed out a sigh. After they'd struggled with their captors and been rendered unconscious they'd been brought to this decrepit hut. While still out, their uniforms had been removed and replaced by the foulest smelling garb Rodney had ever had the displeasure to wear. They were little more than loosely stitched rags.

'No,' the young marine grunted. 'So what now?'

'What am I, Allison Dubois? How the hell am I supposed to know?' McKay squeaked, growing exasperated with all the questions when his head felt ready to explode.

The lieutenant sighed, rubbing his head with his cuffed hands. 'Okay...any thoughts on how they knew we were coming?'

Was he kidding? He'd been thinking of little else since waking up. By rights, Sheppard should be the only person in the Pegasus Galaxy with any genuine foresight of how things should turn out, but apparently these women had been waiting for them, planning their capture. That made no sense at all...unless...

'Dammit! Why didn't I think of that before?' he hissed, heart pounding with the realisation of what must have happened.

'What...think of what?' Ford demanded.

'Sarayah was a conduit for Sheppard to link with his future self because she existed in two places at the same time...she might have somehow done the same thing to herself. Sheppard needed to be in contact with her for the connection to work, but maybe she was able to connect with her other self because...well...because they're one and the same person.'

Ford stared at him blankly, then screwed up his face. 'Say what?'

'Sarayah absorbed a wormhole into her body. Every time she broke apart she became a conduit through time and space...maybe through all points in time and space, who knows, the science involved is way too complex for any of us to fully understand. And if she existed in all points of space and time during those moments, it's possible the Sarayah living here...now...was able to experience her thoughts and memories in some way.'

'So she's probably known we were coming for the past year?'

'Did you not hear me say she possibly existed in all points of space and time? She may have been waiting for us since the moment she was born.'

'That's just insane,' Ford huffed. 'I can't even begin to get my head around—'

The door opened, and half a dozen women rushed in. Before either of them could react, they were forced face down on their mattresses, gagged and covered in sacks before being dragged to their feet and bundled from the room. The next thing Rodney was aware of was the sensation of the ground disappearing from under his feet, plunging downwards, and landing with a thump at a lower level.

'Be silent or we'll shoot you,' he heard someone rasp, then there was a creak like a door closing and what little light he'd been able to see through the coarse cloth of his covering was extinguished.

McKay remained slumped, hurting too much to move and desperately battling with the claustrophobia now gripping him. From above, he could hear the sound of dragging and muffled voices speaking urgently to one another. He wanted to yell and scream, but the fear of getting a bullet in his head kept him silent.

Beside him, something stirred and groaned, the constrained space meaning it brushed against him as it moved. Whatever it was froze, as if just as startled to find it wasn't alone down there as he was.

McKay hoped it was Ford keeping cautiously silent just as he was. If it wasn't, he was in serious, serious trouble.

oooOOOooo

Having refused the scraps of food Sarayah had offered from her table, Sheppard endured the humiliation of her leading him by his collar and at gun point to what he supposed was his bed – a stinking pile of straw wrapped in ragged cloths pushed up against the wall of one of her gloomy back rooms. Not that that was the worst thing in there. As a nice little addition she'd set up a system of chains and cuffs for him, probably tested for effectiveness and escapability by a few previous men she'd chosen to torment. In fact, even in that dingy little room, he thought he could see signs of bloodstains on the bedding. At least he hoped they were bloodstains...

After hooking the first chain to the back of his collar, Sarayah then attached others to metal hoops on the back of each of his manacles before releasing the chains binding them together.

'This will be your bed for now,' she told him, ruffling his hair as she might scratch a dog's head. 'I hope you like it. I made it as comfortable as possible without making it obvious I'd done so. The others have to really believe I'm keeping you like an animal.'

Oh, now she was really yanking his chain in more ways than one. 'Well, it's not exactly The Hilton...' he muttered, not sure he could actually lie down on something that smelled like someone had wiped their butt on it.

Her expression tightened, and a fleeting moment of annoyance shadowed her face. 'I realise this isn't ideal, Major, but I'm doing everything I can to make your stay here as comfortable as possible under our present laws. Making you my pet means I have an excuse to keep you here instead of letting the others take you to the prison encampment. If you're here I can protect you, but that protection only goes so far before I put my position as leader in jeopardy.'

'And you expect me to be grateful?' he grumbled, unimpressed by her altruism. His chains rattled as he rubbed at the raw skin on his wrists, a noisy reminder of his current dilemma. But Elizabeth would send help. This wasn't like Afghanistan where there was no hope of anyone locating him. This was Medulsa and Sarayah was human, even if she was a little too clued up about things for his liking. All he had to do was wait it out, and yeah, okay, that little hidey hole Sarayah had shown him earlier might make finding him tricky, but Elizabeth wouldn't give up that easily...he hoped.

'Sit...please,' she smiled, pointing to the festering nest of rags. There was nothing to be gained from refusing, so he took the load off his feet, trying to breathe through his mouth for the time being until he got used to the odour. She crouched down in front of him, pushing the key she'd used to lock him in place down into her cleavage. He watched her do it, not really relishing the idea of retrieving that when he needed it.

She stroked his cheek. 'There. Wasn't that easy?'

He huffed a reluctant agreement, drawing up his knees and resting his wrists on them as he glared back at her.

Now he was fully secured she went back to her kitchen and collected a chair, bringing it into his room and setting it down a few feet in front of him. She sat down, still clutching the chain from between his wrists and smiling at him in a manner that was just plain unsettling. He had the horrible feeling she was just waiting to pounce.

'So, any questions you'd like to ask me yet?' she asked, crossing her legs and playfully bouncing her foot as she toyed with the length of chain in her hands. 'You must be burning to know how we knew you were coming.'

Unwilling to satisfy her smugness with any kind of agreement, he assumed his most disinterested expression. 'Not really,' he shrugged. 'That moment's kinda passed.'

She flexed the chain, pulling it taut. 'Please don't lie to me, Major.'

The insinuated threat was obvious. 'Okay, I'll bite. How did you know I was coming?' he ground out, playing his part.

'I saw it...in my dreams.'

He grimaced at the idea that she'd dreamed of him, but kept his clever comments to himself this time. The way she now allowed the chain to snake through her left hand over and over again held him almost mesmerised, the implied danger of the action apparent without any need to put it into words. He really didn't want to say anything that might give her an excuse to swing that thing in his direction.

'Nothing to say?' she asked.

Crap! Silence had been his friend for all of five seconds there. Now he had less than that to figure out a response that wouldn't get him beaten. 'That's...weird...' he ventured, watching the chain as the length of it slipped free of her left hand and hung loose, poised for use. Thankfully, she began to toy with it again, which he took as a good sign.

'It is, isn't it?' she agreed. 'I've seen everything that's supposed to happen here on Medulsa, everything that happens with the Atrascans, even how we fight on Guedeseo. But it doesn't have to be that way. We can be friends this time...maybe more if you're willing to give me a chance. But for now you have to do exactly as I ask so I can keep you safe. Do you understand?'

He watched the chain slide out of her fingers again, falling limp. This time she just let it hang there, its next movement undecided. She didn't like lies, but the truth was likely to earn him a beating, too. So what should he say?

'Too slow.' The chain cracked against his left thigh before he decided how to answer.

'Ow! Yes!' he hissed, half expecting her to hit him again. But this time she returned to playing with the chain, giving him time to recover.

She stared at him now, saying nothing. Then she pushed up from her chair and headed to a metal wheel set in the wall several feet away from him, to which all of his chains were attached. She turned it and he immediately felt the tug on his restraints pulling his arms and neck back toward the wall. He reluctantly accepted the haul and gave in to the inexorable direction he was headed in.

'I told myself over and over that things would be different this time, that I would change the way I handled you so you would think better of me. But you refuse to help yourself.' She stepped back in front of him, sliding her hand the length of that chain again and again. 'I really don't want to hurt you, but I need you to do as I ask and be completely compliant or my plan will fail, and they –' she stopped short, looking agitated, muttering something under her breath. His eyes fixed on those metal links, and he swallowed deeply at the anticipation of the agony she might unleash on him with them. 'I was hoping to avoid any kind of violence, but you insist on pushing me until I am forced to act,' she said, looking down on him where he sat restrained and helpless. The chain fell limp, and he instinctively tensed his body, waiting for the strike.

The fact she dropped to her knees and moved in for a kiss instead completely stunned him, being unable to pull free making it all the more of a shock. It wasn't violent, in fact it smacked more of desperation, need, a desire satiated after years of yearning. He rode it out, unable to do a damn thing about it even if he wanted to. She had him exactly where she wanted him...nice and compliant.

She stopped, but barely pulled back, drinking in his features as her eyes roved over his face as he reassembled his expression into something other than embarrassment. He hoped he'd managed a sullen glare; that was what he was going for at least.

'This is what I truly want,' she breathed, stroking his cheek before kissing him again, her hands grasping his face hard while she explored him as if this were the first time she'd ever kissed a man. Then he realised it might actually be just that. Men here were enslaved and abused; he doubted anything as supposedly affectionate as this ever happened between these women and their captives.

She let him up for air again, her breaths coming short and ragged as she brushed his hair back from his forehead. 'This face...this face has haunted my sleep since before I could speak. I used to fear it...used to wake up screaming, terrified of the fate my dreams of you showed me. But now...' she stroked her thumb across his lips then kissed them lightly again, giving the faintest groan of pleasure as she did so. 'Now I realise I need you. I've waited for you all my life, and now I have you I will never let you go.'

Then her mouth was on his again, and all he could think of was the fact she was even loopier now than he'd expected her to be, half-crazed by the visions she'd had since infancy. Rodney had told him he might encounter ripples in the timeline because of Sarayah's journey back to Earth, but he'd never mentioned the crashing great tidal waves he was sinking beneath right now. He felt like he was constantly treading water, waiting for things to calm down, but all the time another swell was rolling in, threatening to drown him. He really needed an intervention right about now...

'Sarayah...Sarayah!'

A static-laden voice fractured the moment of intimacy with its discordant echoes, Sarayah instantly breaking their exchange and rushing to the other room to answer its call, leaving him breathless but thankful behind her.

'What is it?' he heard her bark into the radio.

'One of their ships just passed through the Ring of the Ancestors. They're on their way.'

He heard Sarayah run then, followed by the sound of a heavy door being thrown open. 'Alishia! Kaymah! Your help!' Then she was back in the room with him, stuffing a wad of cloth into his mouth and then wrapping a gag around it to hold it in place. 'If you want to live, say nothing of what just happened to anyone,' she rasped, setting the wheel on a hurried spin to give him more chain on which to move.

Like he could if he wanted to...

Alishia bundled in now, holding him in some kind of headlock while Sarayah let off his wall chains. She stank of stale sweat and sour milk, and Sheppard was glad he was gagged so he couldn't make some smartass suggestion that she should wash more often. Alishia then grappled him to the floor and held him still for Sarayah to pull his arms back and reattached the chain between his wrists. Though he struggled for all he was worth, the two of them combined were too strong to pull free from.

While his face was still pressed to the floor he heard an extra set of feet arrive in the room, thumping across the hard slabs. 'You wanted me?'

'Yes. The Atlanteans are coming for this one and we need to hide him. You will go in the hole with him and keep him quiet while I speak with them and send them on their way.'

The woman, a not unattractive young brunette he noticed as Sarayah dragged him up to his feet, nodded and helped Sarayah push and pull him through to the kitchen, delivering a few kidney blows for good measure to hurry him along.

Alishia had gone on ahead and already had the table aside and the slabs removed, exposing the gaping maw of his waiting hiding place.

'You go first, Kaymah. Steady him as he descends,' Sarayah ordered.

The slim brunette nodded, quickly climbing down the first few rungs, then steering his feet onto them as Sarayah and Alishia held his upper arms, fingers digging deep into his muscles as they lowered him.

Kaymah's hands found spots he'd really rather have declared off limits to a woman when first meeting her, but Sheppard figured she didn't have much choice considering their respective positions. Once his head was below floor level Alishia began to slide the cover stones back in place, leaving him in utter darkness for the rest of his descent. Unable to see anything, and with Kaymah also now sightless, he lost his footing and dropped the final few feet, his bare soles landing heavily in the gritty dirt at the bottom of the hole. He would have sworn had he been able to speak. Perhaps it was best he couldn't.

The space was tight down there, despite both of their slim frames, but Kaymah managed to turn him so they were facing each other, then groped her way up to his neck before he felt the familiar press of cold, sharp metal that meant she now had a knife to his throat.

The sound of the table being pushed back into position reverberated down the shaft to them, followed by footsteps growing fainter as Sarayah and Alishia departed.

'Don't make a sound, understand?'Kaymah whispered, her breath warm against his neck in that cold pit. 'I want you to listen, and listen well.'

Okay, that was odd. He hadn't been expecting conversation, but since he was gagged and basically a captive audience, he had no choice but to do as he was told.

'Not all of us on Medulsa believe in Sarayah's gift,' the girl hissed. 'She's been off world many times, always insisting she goes alone, no doubt setting up her deceptions...Are you someone she paid to fulfil the prophecy?' She slipped her free hand up to his hair now and gripped it. 'Nod or shake to give me your answer.'

He shook his head, deliberately slowing and exaggerating the movement so she couldn't mistake it.

'So you're not here because faith in Sarayah's leadership skills are waning?'

Interesting...He shook his head again, wondering how much more she would give away with her questioning.

'Then you really are here to take our Wraith defence machine and destroy us?'

He shook his head a third time, a little more emphatically.

Above them, they heard voices. Kaymah pressed in against him whispering into his ear. 'Are you saying she lied to us?'

This time he nodded, seizing the opportunity to undermine Sarayah's authority. He hadn't dared to hope his chance would come so soon.

'I'm going to remove your gag now so you can tell me what you know, but if you shout for help I'll cut your throat. Understood?'

He nodded again, not doubting her sincerity.

She tugged the gag down, pulling the extra cloth from his mouth. His tongue was dry and tasted of old gym socks, but he wouldn't let that stop him speaking.

'You mentioned Allanae when you arrived...What do you know of her?' she asked him.

'She's supposed to be your leader, but somehow Sarayah landed the position instead.'

There was a minor hesitation before she asked, 'How do you know that?'

'It's...complicated.'

There was another pause before Kaymah continued. 'You imply that Sarayah is manipulating our lives in more ways than solely the part you play in them.'

'I'm not just implying...I know she is.'

She was silent again, only the warmth of her body pressed against his and the ever-present blade confirming that she was still there. 'Why would she do that?' she asked a few seconds later.

Figuring that telling her it was because Sarayah was obsessed with him might sound egotistical, he settled for, 'I'm not sure, but you can be certain there's something in it for her.'

Kaymah went quiet on him again, then he felt her squirming, wondering what the hell she was up to. 'Allanae was my grandmother's sister,' she told him, her mouth up close to his ear. 'One day she was in perfect health, the next she couldn't get out of bed. She passed away that same night in agony and delirium. I always thought there was something strange in the suddenness of it all.'

Poison, Sheppard thought. His visions had shown him Sarayah was capable of such acts.

'The very next day, Sarayah put herself forward as an option for our new leader...her ability to predict future events made her an obvious choice. Our women felt vulnerable without Allanae's guidance. They agreed without question...but it was a mistake...we know that now.'

Kaymah's free hand was now groping around near his hip, edging up until it reached his belt. Her fingers slid around it until her hand was right at the back of him, something sharp scratching the skin at his waist as she manoeuvred them, pulling him into her while she exerted pressure behind his back.

'Tonight, when Sarayah gives you enough chain to lie down to sleep, you will be able to reach the metal pin I have just inserted into your belt. You can use it to unlock your manacles and get free. Just make sure she doesn't wake up before you can get out of the village.'

Sheppard breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there he'd thought they were getting into awkward first date territory again. He managed to move his hands into a position where he could feel the rope at his waist. Sure enough, a sharp piece of metal protruded from it, one that his tunic would hide from view.

'Prove to us that she lies and we can depose her and put Medulsa back on the course our lives should have followed. It won't bring Allanae back, but it will bring justice to our family.'

'I'll do what I can,' he promised her, all the time thinking about getting back to the jumper and seeking out his friends. Deposing Sarayah could wait until he knew he and his team were all safe.

'You know,' Kaymah whispered, finally taking the knife from his throat. 'I don't think she really wants to keep you here as punishment. I think she may want you for other reasons...you certainly have some appeal.'

Before he could respond she stuffed the fetid cloth back into his mouth and forced the gag back over it. He settled for making a mental note to change his aftershave. Though normally having an attractive brunette in such close proximity wouldn't be much of an issue for him, Sheppard felt suddenly crowded, the cuffs, gag and knife putting a rather different and unnerving spin on things. Still, he kept his head and played by the rules, all the time checking that metal pick was still in place. All he had to do was make sure Sarayah didn't find it before they settled down for the night.

Of course, since the woman apparently couldn't keep her hands off him that might be easier said than done...

oooOOOooo

Elizabeth ordered Sergeant Stackhouse to de-cloak the jumper as they came in over the tree line to the west of the Medulsan village. He slowly lowered the craft down to the left of the village cooking fire, letting the dust settle while he cut the engines. Then they watched out of the windshield as the startled villagers began to mass before them.

'Friendly looking group,' he commented as they gathered in front of the craft clutching various tools and implements. He cast a worried glance her way. 'I'm not sure it's safe for you to leave the jumper, Ma'am.'

'Don't worry about me, Sergeant,' she assured him. 'These ladies are unlikely to hurt me. I'm a woman and a leader; they respect that. You need to make protecting yourself and the other men in our group your priority.'

Elizabeth had insisted that two female marines be amongst their numbers, since Carson had told her Medulsan women were intolerant of men. That way, if they refused to allow the men to move freely in the village, she still had some protection with her. Her hope was that the villagers wouldn't attack anyone if they didn't provoke them, but there was no way to know for sure.

Carson, who sat behind her in the forward compartment, looked anxious, swallowing hard as he zipped his tac-vest right up to the top. 'Well, I suppose we should get things started,' he sighed, standing up to hoist his medical pack onto his pack.

'I suppose we should,' Elizabeth agreed.

She asked the two female marines to take point and lower the hatch, something that appeared to be a sound decision when she saw they were now entirely surrounded by women.

'All right, let's back it up, people,' Sergeant Perry ordered, Private Torres sticking close at her left as they pressed forward, P-90s aimed and ready, cutting a path through the resentful gathering.

Perry, at five feet ten plus another inch in her boots, was normally an imposing figure for a female, but here on Medulsa she found her match in many strong looking women. Still, the tall blonde forged a way through, Dr Weir and Dr Beckett tucked in behind both her and Torres, with Stackhouse and Corporal Manson covering their six.

Carson pressed in close to Elizabeth, and leaning toward her whispered, 'Hospitable bunch, aren't they?' as the women clustered around them, whispering and hissing their threats and insults.

Elizabeth met each ferocious look with her own strong stare, careful to show no malice, but no fear either. They made steady progress as they followed Perry and Torres, gaining a lot of ground, but when they reached the centre of the village the women formed a line in which there were no breaches, and they gave no sign of backing down.

'Your kind aren't welcome here,' a voice yelled, though it wasn't clear who said it. A rumble of agreement passed through the women before them.

'And what kind would that be?' Elizabeth asked, raising her chin high. 'You haven't even asked why we're here.'

'We mean the men,' a redhead at the front of the line growled, fixing her fierce gaze on Carson. 'We don't allow men to walk freely in this village.'

Elizabeth's mind immediately moved to thoughts of Sheppard and his team entering the village and breaking that rule. Three men and only one woman would not have gone down well. 'So what happens to men found walking here?'

Suddenly, no one wanted to speak. They all exchanged pensive looks and maintained their abrupt silence.

'Got nothing to say, huh?'

'What do you want here?' A large woman, thickset and powerful looking strode forward, breaking through the line that quickly closed up again behind her.

'I always find conversations work better when the proper introductions are made,' Elizabeth responded, giving her a bright smile. 'My name is Dr Elizabeth Weir.'

The woman paused, folding her arms over her broad chest as she regarded her. 'Alishia,' she finally replied.

'It's good to meet you Alishia. I was hoping to speak with your leader.'

'Why?' the woman demanded.

'Well, I'm the leader of a society of people who might just be able to offer you all a good trade in return for food supplies.'

Alishia looked at the group of strangers with barely concealed contempt. 'We don't allow men into the village, let alone trade with them.'

Elizabeth gauged the woman before her. She seemed rational enough; perhaps there was a way to word this that would make her more amenable to the males in their party. 'These men are all in my service. My personal guards and my physician. They're only here for my protection while I come here to strike up a trade.'

Alishia eyed the men suspiciously. Apparently that didn't impress her much. 'We have no need of trade.'

Already hot after only a couple of minutes in the Medulsan sun, Elizabeth casually wiped a few beads of perspiration from her forehead. 'Really? No need at all? Perhaps it would be better if we check that with your leader before you completely reject my offer. I wouldn't want you getting into any trouble if she hears you made that decision without consulting her.'

Alishia stared back at Elizabeth for a few moments longer, before turning abruptly and pushing back through the line.

'I'm hoping that's agreement,' Elizabeth said from the corner of her mouth. Carson just nodded, his hand resting on the side arm strapped to his thigh the whole time.

A few moments later Alishia returned with a smaller woman walking behind her, partially obscured from their view. It didn't stop Carson's sharp intake of breath, however.

Elizabeth flashed him a look, and he whispered, 'It's her! It's Sarayah!'

'Sarayah? But she's not supposed to be the leader,' she whispered back to him. 'Didn't John mention something about a woman called Allanae?'

The two women broke through the crowd and came to a standstill in front of the visiting group. This smaller woman looked every bit as formidable as her cumbersome companion, her near black eyes showing no hint of warmth or welcome. Her hair, long and untidy had been drawn back into a shambolic ponytail, as if she had made some hurried attempt to improve her appearance before meeting them, but her clothes, made of neutral coloured rough cloth and both tattered and filthy in places, showed she actually cared little for the way she looked.

Sarayah now regarded them all, her gaze lingering a little longer on Carson than the rest of them. He visibly shrivelled under her gaze, though he said nothing in reaction. Eventually, Sarayah's eyes shifted to Elizabeth and stayed there. 'I am Sarayah, leader of this village. You are the head of these people?'

Elizabeth held her look with confidence. 'I am.'

'What is it you wish to discuss?'

'My people and I are hoping to set up trade with Medulsa. We're a long way from home and in need of friends. If you could supply us with some food stocks, I'm confident there is something of value we could offer you in return.'

The woman looked a little bored by her sales pitch, folding her arms over her chest and looking hugely unimpressed. 'We already have many trading partners who are able to satisfy all our needs. We have no desire for new trade.'

Undeterred, Elizabeth pressed on. 'I imagine we can offer many things your current trading partners would be unable to provide you with.'

'Such as?'

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she tried to read the woman's inscrutable features, gaining no usable insight despite her boundless experience in dealing with difficult people. This woman, ill-kempt though undeniably beautiful in a feral way, had the most detached demeanour she'd ever encountered. Normally when people protested their indifference there was something else there, some glimmer of interest in their eyes to suggest they might be swayed. But with this woman there was nothing.

'Perhaps we could go somewhere to discuss this in private. I'm sure there's a deal we can strike that would be advantageous to both of us.'

'Anything you have to say can be said in front of the people standing here,' Sarayah assured her, gesturing to the gathered crowd. 'I hide nothing from them.'

Elizabeth nodded, feigning impress. 'Really? That's an admirable quality...one I've heard spoken of many times, though it's seldom true.' She held Sarayah's fierce gaze, unwavering. 'But if you're sure, I'll state exactly the deal I would like to strike with you. I'd like the immediate return of my missing personnel and in exchange we won't mount an occupation of your village while searching for them.'

Sarayah simply blinked at her, while the others around them grew instantly more agitated and hostile. The woman held up her hand and silenced them. 'I'm not sure who you are speaking of. No one has entered this village for weeks...other than you and your occupying troops.'

Elizabeth looked around at the sea of faces ahead of her, guilt clearly written across many of them, but Sarayah's still remained completely unreadable. 'So you're saying you haven't seen them?' Elizabeth clarified.

'Are you certain they came here?' Sarayah asked, her facade of calm unrelenting.

'Yes, I'm certain. And let me warn you, when I find proof that you're lying, I will return with greater numbers and we will turn this planet upside down until we find them. I'm sure you understand.'

The Medulsan narrowed her eyes, the only change she'd allowed her expression to display in the whole exchange. 'Any attempt to occupy my village will be met with force...I'm sure you understand that too,' Sarayah assured her, several of the women behind her now brandishing weapons, though only primitive knives and bows.

'That would be very unwise,' Elizabeth warned, then she forced on a smile. 'But since you apparently haven't seen my missing people, you have nothing to worry about, do you?'

Sarayah also smiled, a savage, thin line that exuded no warmth at all. 'Exactly. Now, if you don't mind, the evening is drawing in and we still have many chores to complete before nightfall.'

'Of course. We'll leave you to your...chores. Thank you for your time.' Elizabeth turned away and waited a couple of seconds for Perry and Torres to take point and lead the way back to the jumper.

As the rear hatch closed behind them, Carson said, 'Don't get me wrong because I really am glad to be away from that woman, but is that it?'

'No, that's not it,' Elizabeth told him, taking up her seat beside Stackhouse in the cockpit. 'Sarayah was convincing, but apparently her little acolytes aren't quite such accomplished liars. Our people have been there. All we need to do is gather just a tiny scrap of evidence that that's the case, and I will have troops crawling all over this place until they're found. This isn't over until we bring them home.'

'So what now?' he asked, shrugging off his unneeded medical pack and dropping into the seat behind her.

'We head back to Atlantis. Right now the Medulsans are ready for us, but later, once they've had time to let down their guard, we'll send a recon team through again. Then hopefully we'll find the evidence we need. And once we have it, Sarayah's going to be sorry she ever chose to play her games with me.'

Carson swallowed hard and nodded as the jumper lifted off the ground and swung round, leaving the angry crowd of Medulsans behind them. 'I hope you're right, Elizabeth. I really hope you're right.'

oooOOOooo

Sarayah waited until she had confirmation that Elizabeth and her people had left via the Ring of the Ancestors before allowing herself to relax again. Then she crossed to her pantry and took out a bottle of wine, collecting three metal cups as she turned toward her loyal companion.

'Get them back up,' she ordered Alishia, who immediately obeyed by pushing the table aside so she could lift the stone covering from the pit. Once the table was moved, Sarayah set down the bottle and cups and began pouring, standing back and watching as her faithful and trusted seconds pushed and pulled her prisoner back out of the hole and into the failing daylight of her kitchen.

As she removed Sheppard's gag she noticed it was a little looser than she'd originally tied it. It was a fractional difference, but it was there all the same, and with his hands restrained behind his back it seemed impossible that he'd done that himself. She decided to make sure the knot was as tight as she could possibly make it next time, even if that meant she had to cut the thing off to free him.

'A celebration!' she announced, passing a cup to each of her female companions. 'His people came and we were able to rid ourselves of them without them finding anything suspicious. I think it was as successful a meeting as we could have hoped for.'

She drained her cup in one, refusing to stop even as Sheppard told her, 'They'll be back. We don't leave our people behind.'

Kaymah immediately back-handed him, knocking him a little sideways. 'And you don't speak unless we ask you to, beast.'

'Unless I ask him to,' Sarayah corrected, her annoyance prickling. Kaymah was good at what she did, and definitely someone to rely on, but sometimes she overstepped her role. Though what she'd said was fundamentally correct, it wasn't accurate in the context of Sarayah's home. Here, only her word counted in terms of their rebellious prisoner.

'Of course.' Kaymah acquiesced immediately, sipping again from her cup.

Sarayah watched Sheppard steady himself, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of his mouth and running down to his jaw line. She saw an image from her dreams, watched him struggling to resist foods in that country known as Afghanistan while she forced them on him until his mouth bled. The sense of power that remembrance ignited in her made her want to overpower him even more until she felt barely able to contain herself. No matter all the promises she'd made to herself over the years of expectation, she really couldn't help but yearn for this man in a way she had never done with any other. He moved her, or more specifically, his suffering moved her, and no matter how much she tried to convince herself that things would be different this time and he would not need or want to kill her, that desire to control him gnawed at her very soul, urging her to satisfy it. At the back of her mind a small voice whispered, He deserves it.

'Thank you, ladies,' she suddenly announced slamming her cup down on the table. 'I don't think I will be needing you for the rest of today. 'You can take yourselves home and get some rest. Tomorrow this one starts work and I'll need you to be alert for anyone seeking him while he is out of the confines of my home.'

They nodded their agreement and respect, and set down their cups alongside hers, heading out of the building.

Sarayah turned to Sheppard now, dipping the cloth she'd taken from his mouth in the remainder of Alishia's wine and, clasping his chin in her hand, she carefully wiped his face.

'I see that old injury still plagues you,' she murmured as she concentrated on cleansing away the blood from the stubble already shading his jaw. 'The tissue seems to have been left weakened.'

'Well, it's the only thing that is,' he assured her, as if the suggestion that any part of him was weak was an irritation.

She couldn't help but smile at that comment. Despite his bravado he clearly felt vulnerable and it showed in his words if not his actions. She kicked a chair away from the table, then picked up the wooden cudgel that sat on its surface, the one she usually used for tenderising meat. 'Sit,' she ordered, pointing it at the floor.

He narrowed his eyes at her, standing firm. 'You really are enjoying this aren't you?'

'Major, what have I told you about your behaviour?' she reminded him.

He scowled, taking longer than she expected to respond. Two well placed thumps to the back of his knees soon solved that problem.

'I was about to do it,' he grumbled, but she knew he would have refused to sit on that floor willingly. Her actions had just saved them both time.

'Not quick enough...again,' she told him. 'These women need to believe I have complete control over you. I need them to think you fear me.'

'Well, they're not here right now,' he pointed out.

'Consider this a trial run,' she offered in response.

Once he'd rearranged himself into a more comfortable position, sitting cross-legged on her cool stone floor, she collected up some bread and cheese, along with some pieces of fruit on a plate and set it down on the table top, pouring two more cups of wine. She felt him watching her every move, enjoying having his attention so avidly focused on her. He had to be wondering why there were two cups filled, and when she looked at him at last she knew she was right because his eyes remained fixed on them. So, deciding to prolong his agony, she sat down and silently carved herself a slice of bread and cut off a hunk of cheese. Then after dicing both she ate some, stabbing her knife point into a square of bread first, then cheese, and eating them together.

After she'd enjoyed a few mouthfuls, she offered the next loaded knife to her companion. 'Hungry?'

He grimaced at the knife now poised at his lips. 'Not really,' he mumbled.

That had to be a lie. He'd been here some several hours now and had eaten nothing in all that time. 'Come on, Major. I think you must be by now,' she urged, jabbing it a little closer.

He flicked his gaze quickly up to hers and then back to the food, opening his mouth and snatching the bread and cheese from the blade with his teeth. Satisfied with his response, she sat back and regarded him over the rim of her cup of wine.

Sheppard chewed it as if it was the most distasteful thing he'd ever consumed. He swallowed hard to down the dry mouthful, but she was certain he appreciated the food. She leaned forward and stabbed her knife into two more squares and fed them to him again. She could sense the humiliation oozing from him, but he took the food all the same.

'Good boy,' she purred, eating some more herself now. 'See how well we can get along together?'

He shot her a sour look, apparently not appreciating the term "good boy". 'I'm not a damn dog!' he grunted, a minor and completely ineffectual mutiny.

She shrugged, the aged chair beneath her creaking as she leaned back and regarded him. 'Well, it's your choice. Either you're my pet or you're a slave...and I assure you I treat my pets far better.'

'That's not saying much,' she heard him mutter, his eyes lowered to the stone floor.

'Are you thirsty?' she asked, holding out the second cup of wine to him now.

'I'd prefer water.'

She poured a measure of the wine onto the floor in front of him, seeing his expression change from rebellious to resigned. 'This is what I'm offering to you. You can either take it from the cup or lick it up from the floor as a real pet would when I spill it...your choice.'

Without uttering his agreement, he allowed her to tip the cup to his lips, grimacing at what he obviously considered its sharp taste. It was tart, but she'd never been fond of the sweeter versions. She didn't drink it to feel mellow; she enjoyed the way it heightened her sense of taste. 'You don't like it?' she asked.

'It's not really my thing.'

'No...well, it's another thing you will learn to adjust to in time.'

'Where's Teyla?' he asked, out of the blue.

Trying not to let his question spoil her mood, she picked up a couple more chunks of food and held them out for him. 'I told you before, that's not your concern anymore.'

Through gritted teeth he hissed, 'She's a member of my team. If she's missing it's always my concern.'

Sarayah's temper flared, but she held onto it, resorting only to slamming the blade of her food laden knife into the tabletop, where it sat reverberating in the moment of silence. 'You have no team now,' she growled, catching hold of his chin. 'You have no position, no rank, no role to play in any other society any longer. You are my pet; you exist in no other capacity than that. Is that understood?'

A dangerous look entered Sheppard's eyes then, a look that told her she had pushed him to his limit for the day. 'I thought this was just an act...part of your plan.'

Annoyed at herself for allowing the anger through, she pinned on a smile before replying. 'It is, but as I told you, I need you to be compliant at all times. You never know who is watching.'

'Bullshit,' he growled back at her. 'You may have taken my clothes, my weapons and my freedom, but those things don't make me who I am. Who I am is inside me, and you'll never change that...not ever. Is that understood?'

Something in the back of her mind told her to pounce on him, to beat him to a pulp where he sat until he apologised and at least pretended to acquiesce, but she fought it down. Her dreams had shown that approach would get her nowhere but into trouble. So this time she wanted to do things differently.

She caught hold of the leather collar still fastened around his neck and pulled him backward away from the table with it, leaving him scrabbling on the floor to roll over and take some ownership of the journey. She didn't give him the chance, using every ounce of strength she had to haul him through to her back room and attach the first chain to the link on his collar as he sputtered and caught his breath. Once that was done, she attached the wall chains to his wrist cuffs, finally removing the chain keeping them secured behind his back. Then she turned the wheel so he had just enough length free to be able to lie on his sorry looking bed.

'As part of your act, I don't want to hear another word from you today. I expect complete silence. Do you suppose you can manage that?'

'I don't know...it's not exactly my strong point,' he quipped angrily, receiving a sharp slap across the cheek in return.

She paused, taking a moment to compose herself. 'I'm sorry for doing that, but this isn't a game, Major. One slip and my plan is for nothing. All you have to do is be obedient for a few days and you might get through this unscathed. Don't you want that?'

He glowered up at her, wiping a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth on the back of one of his chained hands while giving a sharp nod. The metal gave a satisfying clanking sound, solid and secure. He wasn't going anywhere tonight.

'Now I suggest you get plenty of rest before morning. I have a job planned for you that should keep you busy and out of trouble for most of the day.'

She walked away, leaving him glaring at her back. She thought she heard him mutter something about her being a "crazy bitch", but she chose to let it slide just this once. It didn't hurt to let him score the odd minor victory. She'd learned over the years of dreams and nightmares that he was virtually unbreakable, no matter how oppressed he was. If she couldn't break him, she would keep him close so he couldn't get away from her. With both Sheppard and McKay missing, plans on Atlantis might have to be altered. And that change in his destiny would hopefully change hers, breaking the universe's plan for her to fall foul of the experimental 'gate. Her own plan had been years in the making and so far had gone just as she'd hoped. A few more days and this would all be over. The Wraith would come and his people would believe Sheppard lost to them and stop looking for him at all. Then, he was all hers for as long as she wanted him.

Now that was a prize she could be patient for. She'd waited all her life, after all.


A/N: So now you know what Sarayah has in mind for the major. Uh oh...!

Once again, thanks for your reviews. It's good to hear what you think :)