Allanae watched the two women from Sheppard's tribe walk back into their village, disappointed that they had seen fit to return. She'd hoped they would accept their male's decision to remain, but she sensed the woman with the brown curls held more sway over the man than she had thus far shared with them.

'What is it you want now?' she demanded, positioning herself before then and folding her arms across herself.

'Perhaps there's somewhere more private we can have this discussion,' the one called Elizabeth suggested, following up her words with a tight smile.

Reluctantly, Allanae agreed to show them into her home. She gestured sharply with a flick of her hand toward two wooden chairs, their joints bound with twine, and then sat in one opposite them, looking from one face to another. 'What is it you wish to say that cannot be said in front of my people?'

'Since our last meeting, when certain "issues" in your society were brought to our attention, Teyla and I have been thinking that it might be wise for us to talk to you about your...treatment of Major Sheppard.'

Again, Allanae folded her arms over her chest, forming a barrier between herself and the visitors. 'I told you. His is being taught the correct way to behave in our society.'

'We understand that,' Teyla interjected. 'But he is not one of your society. He is one of ours. Where we come from, men and women are considered equals.'

'Then, you think the way we live on Medulsa is wrong?' Allanae asked, fixing them with an angry glare. This was a conversation she'd had a few times before, and she had little patience for it now.

'What we're trying to say is that Major Sheppard comes from a society where he is free to speak to whomever he wishes to speak to. He had no idea he was breaking your laws. And to him, yes, the way you live on Medulsa is wrong. Major Sheppard has spent most of his adult life fighting against what he sees as unjust regimes; he finds it hard to walk away from situations where he feels he can make a difference.'

Allanae listened to their words, but was not fooled. They were saying things that made her think they were on her side – that they could see her point of view – but she hadn't lived all her long years without learning to read what people actually meant when they spoke. They were trying to make it sound like this Sheppard was the only one who had a problem with her people, but she suspected that was untrue.

'So, you do not hold with his attitudes?'

'We don't believe we can dictate behaviours to other societies in the way some governments and military might, no,' Elizabeth assured her.

Allanae studied the lithe woman seated before her. She sensed power in her, intelligence, and an assurance that came with leadership. The other, the one called Teyla, had an odd calmness to her demeanour, something she found quite unnerving. They held their male captive; she should be angry and demanding, not purring kind words and smiling gently at her. This was some kind of ploy to convince her to release him, of that she was certain. All she did not yet understand was why they thought telling her she had upset the male's sensibilities would make her want to hand him back to them.

'So you do not come here with the intention of telling us to change our ways?' Allanae clarified, looking from one to the other of them again.

'I won't pretend that we agree with what you're doing with the men of your village, but it isn't up to us to change that, no,' Elizabeth reiterated.

Intrigued, Allanae asked, 'What is it about what we do that troubles you?'

Elizabeth and Teyla exchanged a glance, and the former dipped her head as she gave way to the other. 'Where we come from, all people are born free. No innocent is ever locked up and punished. Only those who commit crimes would be denied their liberty,' Teyla explained.

Allanae nodded her understanding as she listened. 'So it is much the same as how we have treated your male. He broke one of our fundamental laws and so has been punished.'

She watched as both women shifted uncomfortably in their seats. It seemed she'd said something they didn't agree with...again.

'It's not quite the same thing,' Elizabeth said, her tight smile returning. 'Where we come from, the rules are not quite so...stringent. People have to do something very bad before we would consider the need to remove them from normal life.'

Allanae sensed what they were doing now and it angered her. They were trying, little by little, to chip away at her beliefs – to make her doubt the certainties she had held all of her life. They planned to make her believe their ways were somehow better than her own, so she would change the rules herself. That way, they could say they had not forced anything to happen. Well, she would not acquiesce simply to appease their consciences.

'Dr Weir, your male, this Major Sheppard, broke a rule our people have followed and upheld for hundreds of years. Who are you to tell me that our beliefs are more trivial than yours?' she demanded.

'I'm not saying that at all,' Elizabeth sputtered. 'I was merely –'

'Oh, I think that is exactly what you were saying. Can I ask you both something?'

'Of course,' Elizabeth answered, looking to Teyla, who also nodded.

'You two both strike me as strong women. Are you both leaders of your people?'

Obviously uncomfortable with the question, it was with a definite reluctance that Elizabeth nodded. 'Yes. Yes we are.'

'So all people are not equal in your worlds, and neither are they free to do exactly as they wish.'

'We have rules...every society has to have guideline by which people must live ' Teyla began, but Allanae held up her hand to silence her.

'I have heard enough. You are both hypocrites. Our rules are in place for a specific reason, a reason you have not even sought to learn. You come here making your accusations without knowing the first thing of our history or the trials we women have suffered.' She rose to her feet. 'You are not welcome here anymore, Dr Weir and Teyla Emmagan. You should leave our village and take your self-important duplicity to those who are foolish enough not to examine it so deeply.'

The women hesitated as if they were about to try to persuade her to change her mind. She thrust her index finger toward the door, leaving them with no room for doubt that she was sincere in wishing them to leave.

Without another word, the women departed, leaving Allanae feeling angry and insulted. How dare they think they could fool her that way? There was only one thing that could change the way their people lived their lives, and since the Ancients were long gone from the galaxy, it was unlikely that would ever happen.

oooOOOooo

Sarayah stood at the head of the feeding hut, watching the new male as he ate. He seemed troubled, and she wondered if she had said too much in their evening discussion. She had never opened up to a man before; why did she want to make this one understand? Did it really matter that he thought less harshly of her?

He ate slowly, no doubt still getting used to the unusual gruel mixture most of the others had eaten for breakfast every day of their lives. She saw the slight downturn of his mouth as the flavour registered with his tastebuds, her own mouth twitching in amusement. He would get used to the flavour after a few days, and yes, he would still be here in a few days. She would make sure he was here for months, years even, at least until the novelty of his uniqueness wore off. She wanted him there until the fight left him, and she suspected this one had a lot of fight to lose. He'd been quiet and non-confrontational for the most part of yesterday, but she sensed it was only a matter of time before his true feeling made themselves known.

She couldn't help but feel impressed that he looked so well this morning. He'd almost bounced up the three steps into the hut compared to how the others had trudged in. Normally, after a lashing and a day of work, they would look exhausted and move rigidly, but this one had done extra work and still looked ready to begin again. He was clearly stronger than he looked, and determined to prove that point. She would enjoy breaking this handsome stallion, and it seemed it would take quite some time.

Another of the men caught her eye, staring fixedly at her. Talsan had shared her bed last night, as he often did, but her thoughts had not been of him. He had only been in the prison camp for two years, so was the youngest there, and he'd quickly realised she was the woman to please for an easy life. The boy's company was unsatisfactory at best, and last night, more than ever, she'd felt relieved when it was over. She found his capitulation noisome, preferring her partners drugged and confused, but rewarded him sometimes with better food and lighter work, just to ensure he was willing when they were short of the draught she needed to subdue men. It wasn't easy to get hold of it as it was only meant for use when procreation was necessary, so even intimacy with one such as him was better than none at all. Except now...now she needed someone else to fulfil those urges, and she knew in her heart that the boy would never come close to affecting her the way Sheppard had in his short time among them.

Feeling eyes on her, she spotted Alishia watching her from across the room. She acknowledged her colleague with a dip of the head and turned her attention to the remaining food left at that serving table.

There was plenty left if Sheppard wanted another portion, although she doubted from the way he was grimacing again that he would ask for any more.

oooOOOooo

Sheppard ate quietly, still mulling over the revelations of his conversation with Sarayah. He'd found it hard to sleep, partly due to the strange, uncomfortable and rather pungent surroundings of the dormitory hut, but also because he couldn't get the thought of babies being slaughtered out of his head. He hadn't asked how they were killed, he didn't want to know, but his imagination had spent most of the night filling in the details in some pretty disturbing ways. Perhaps knowing the truth would have made it easier to move past and focus on the task of solving the problem.

When he'd woken that morning, every muscle in his body had throbbed like a bitch, but since lying on his blanket wasn't making him feel any better, he'd done some careful stretches to help them loosen up and was now feeling a little better. Unlike the other men, he'd moved lightly on his feet between the dormitory and dining hut rather than adopting their heavy-legged plod. He wasn't that beat down yet. He still had hope to keep him going.

Eventually, after thinking things over again, he spoke to Balfor, who was sitting beside him. 'I didn't realise the women culled you to control your numbers.'

Balfor froze for a moment, clearly surprised to hear him speak of it. 'Yes, they do...although I think they will allow more boys to survive for a while since our numbers are dwindling.'

Sheppard nodded, grimacing as he swallowed another spoonful of the cold, lumpy cereal. 'Yeah, you told me about the sickness.'

'The stricken men are housed in a hut on the far side of the camp. The women think keeping them separate from the rest of us will make us safe.'

Sheppard huffed out a quiet laugh. 'That all depends on what type of sickness it is, and whether it's airborne or not.' The blank expression his comments met with told him this man, maybe everyone in the village, had little understanding of diseases, or how to treat them. 'Where I come from, we have doctors who could probably treat that sickness. Trouble is, I doubt they'd be allowed to come here after what's happened to me.'

'The women would not trust them anyway. We must simply hope the sickness spares us.'

A few moments passed in silence, then John asked, 'Is it true that the women of this village used to be slaves to the men?'

Again, Balfor looked startled that he knew so much. 'Who has told you all of these things?' he asked.

'Sarayah chatted with me last night when I got back from digging the field.'

An odd expression crept onto the older man's face, something caught between horror and pity. 'She seems to have taken quite an interest in you. I don't believe she has ever told an outside man about our history before.'

'Well, I'm the new guy. Perhaps she felt like purging her conscience.'

Balfor blinked at him. 'Since she has none that is most unlikely. You would be wise not to encourage her attentions. She has a tendency to lure men in with kindness, then once they feel safe, she turns on them like a feral cat. '

'Are we talking a small feral cat?' Sheppard asked hopefully, figuring he could cope with a few scratches.

'Our feral cats are bigger than a man.'

Being disembowelled wasn't really something he aspired to. He supposed maybe he should tread a little more carefully with her. 'Well, it takes a lot more than that to scare me,' he said, feigning bravado as he cast a glance her way. She was watching, just as she always was, a slight smile curling her lips.

'I'm sure she already has your measure,' the old man said, sipping at his water. 'She has had many years of practice in assessing men's breaking points. Right now, she is being nice to you, but it would be a mistake to assume it will always be this way. If you are not willing to give her what she wants, she will take it regardless.'

Sheppard dragged his eyes away from his captor, his guts churning over as Balfor's warning confirmed his own fears. Sarayah was favouring him, showing attention he didn't want. Okay, this wasn't the first time he'd had to reject unwanted attentions. How hard could it be? Still, there were other things he wanted to know, like where she'd got her gun.

'Do your people trade with the Genii?' he asked.

Balfor shrugged. 'We aren't party to any details of whom they strike their trade deals with. Why do you ask?'

'Because the gun she's carrying is Genii.'

'Ahh, well that weapon comes from Sarndon, over there.' Balfor pointed to a huge bear of a man sitting with his back to them. 'I seem to recall him mentioning something about being Genii when he first came here, but my memory is a little dull these days. These Genii, they are friends of yours?'

'No...definitely not. They ambushed my home and tried to take it over. I subdued the threat and shot their leader, some guy named Kolya. He was trying to kidnap one of my colleagues, so I had to stop him.'

The brute of a man from the other table suddenly turned and glared at Sheppard.

Balfor leaned a little closer to John. 'Sarndon has unusually acute hearing, I'm afraid,' he hissed, his warning, as always, too late.

The major froze. 'Now you tell me!'

He sensed the man was about to launch for him before even one of his huge muscles quivered. But Sheppard wasn't quick enough. Monobrow threw himself across the table and took Sheppard with him before he could manoeuvre his legs out from under it. The weight of the man landing on top of him knocked the wind from his lungs, and the punch the Genii delivered to his face set free a warm rush from his nose.

'You shot Kolya, you bastard?' the man growled, and Sheppard realised there was little point in denying what he'd said.

'Yeah, I did. When people invade my territory, they get what's comin' to them,' he grunted, trying to wrestle the hulk off him so he could regain his breath.

'That man was my mentor – the greatest Genii to ever live,' Monobrow ground out, spitting in Sheppard's face. 'He was like a father to me.'

'Yeah, I can tell; you inherited his build.' Sheppard was strong, but his wiry frame was no match for the sheer weight of this guy. And no one was coming to his aid.

Somehow managing to get a leg curled under the bulk of his attacker, Sheppard kicked him off. The man mountain's back slammed into the table, tipping it over, but he was soon rising again, his anger driving him on. Sheppard also jumped to his feet, catching hold of Monobrow's arm and using the man's momentum to lever him over his shoulder and fling him to the ground, where he rolled him onto his face and twisted his arm up high behind his back.

'I have no argument with you, buddy. I suggest you back off while you still have some dignity.'

Though he bucked a few times to try and throw the major clear, the Genii eventually realised the pain far outweighed his efforts. He nodded his agreement, though he looked far from please about it. Sheppard stood and gave him room to get to his feet, muscles tensed and ready to spring him into action again if necessary. But the man simply sloped away and resumed his seat at the other table, shoulders hunched in anger as he finished off his meal.

Sheppard looked around at the startled faces of the men whose breakfast he'd disrupted. Thankfully, they had all managed to eat most of their meal before the attack, so not much had gone to waste.

He mumbled his apologies, just as his adrenaline levels dropped and the pain of his injuries began to register. Blood still ran from his nose, making him wonder if it might be broken. There had been a fair bit of force behind that punch. In addition, the lacerations on his back had pulled open again when he'd fallen, and then again when shifting the huge man's weight. He wished he'd thought of that before deciding the shoulder throw was his best move to employ.

A slap on the back almost made him whimper – almost, but he fought it down. Sarayah grinned like a Cheshire Cat behind him. 'Well fought, pretty one. I was beginning to worry that your tales of military command were merely an exaggeration to impress me.'

He grunted, holding the back of his hand to his nose to stem the flow of blood as it began to run into his mouth.

'Come with me. We'll get you cleaned up before work begins.'

She marched him out across the compound at gunpoint, Genii gunpoint ironically, and steered him into a smaller hut. Inside was more comfortable than the other buildings he'd had the pleasure, or rather displeasure, of visiting. There was an actual bed, albeit a roughly crafted bedstead with dishevelled, slightly tatty and stained bedclothes. He supposed this might be her quarters; she was the leader of this rough band of warrior women, so it made sense that she would want a room of her own. There was a second door in the adjacent wall on his left. It was closed, concealing what lay beyond it, but he had noticed a small extension to the side of the building as she led him to it and it obviously opened onto that.

His eyes wandered to a crate set on its end and acting as a nightstand. Two cups sat on top of it. Two cups suggested two people. The wide bed with its rumpled sheets suddenly seemed less innocent than they had a moment ago. In an odd way that made him feel a little better. Apparently, this woman wasn't solely interested in him, after all.

Setting the cups aside, Sarayah lifted the box and set it in the middle of the floor, then collected a stool from the corner and set it next to it. 'Sit,' she ordered, and after a moment of hesitation while he considered making a bolt for the door, he complied.

Once he was settled, she poured a bowl of water and set it on the stand in front of him. Then, she damped a cloth and handed it to him. 'Here. I assume it's not the first bloodied nose you've suffered. You know what to do.'

Sheppard cleaned his face, leaning forward and pinching his nose, watching the drips of bright crimson blood falling into the water and swirling around as they began to dilute. Disturbingly, he felt his shirt being pushed up to his shoulders, and Sarayah's fingers drifting over the torn skin of his back.

'What're you doing?' he demanded, tensing at her touch.

'Your wounds need attention or they will become infected,' she told him.

'As long as that's all you're doing,' he muttered.

She pushed her hands up to his shoulders, gripping them and leaning in to tell him, 'Then, you'd better hope that's all I choose to do, because you have no say in the matter.' Her fingers caressed his collarbones as she spoke, drawing his follicles to nauseated attention.

He bore it silently for as long as he could, then growled, 'Okay, I get the message.'

'Good,' she barked, and he could feel her triumphant smirk as she withdrew the threatening contact. Instead, she smeared that god-awful lotion over his injuries, leaving his skin stinging and slick beneath his shirt as she let it drop down again. But it did deaden the pain somewhat, which was a surprise and welcome relief.

'You fought well against such a strong opponent,' she said as she came to stand in front of him, her eyes glistening with excitement at the memory.

'The bigger they are, the harder they fall,' he said, matter-of-fact, dabbing at his nose to see if the flow had stopped. The bridge stung as he wiped it, suggesting the skin had split. Not surprising considering how hard the Sarndon had hit him.

'Even so, most men would have backed down from the confrontation. Sarndon is feared amongst the others. I'll make sure he knows his behaviour toward you was unacceptable.'

'Don't bother. I don't think he'll trouble me again.'

'I will decide how to deal with this,' she snapped, a sharp reminder that the issue of discipline was not up for negotiation as far as she was concerned.

The drips began to slow and then stop; only the cut on the bridge continued a slow ooze. Sheppard sat back and wiped his face again, holding the cloth to his nose to collect the last dregs of the bleed. Once he was sure it had stopped, he dropped the stained cloth back into the scarlet water.

'Now you are done, we can put you to work.'

'More digging?' he asked, rubbing his thumbs across the blisters and callous' on his tender palms.

She shook he head. 'Not today. I have another task in mind for you. That way, I get to keep a closer eye on you.'

Oh, joy! he thought, rising as she twitched her gun toward the door.

She led him out to the gate, beyond the steep walls, and into a wooded area that lay not too far from the camp. An axe, the blade rusty and the handle stained with someone else's blood, leaned against a tree, and a few chewed up stumps standing around the clearing told him what she had in mind.

'We need wood for the cooking fires and to keep the guards' quarters warm on colder nights. This one should supply more than enough for the time being.'

She slapped her hand against the bark of a tree with a girth of at least four feet. Sheppard looked up at it, feeling his shoulders slump at the thought of what his hands and back would feel like by the end of this day. She stepped away from the tree, gesturing toward the axe with her gun.

With a sigh, he picked it up, took up stance, and swung the axe as if he were swinging a golf club on one of the piers at Atlantis. The reverberations that shuddered up his arms as the axe head made sudden contact with the steel-hard bark reminded him that this would be nothing like that kind of fun. The four feet trunk might as well have been twenty feet round for all the impression he'd made on it. He had the distinct feeling this was going to be another long, hard day in the crazy world of Medulsa.