Canon characters are not mine, just taking them out to play.

Story line and unfamiliar characters are mine, however, and I am an extremely possessive person.

Respectful feedback welcomed, encouraged, and craved.

'indicates thoughts'

Gripping your pillow tight.

Major John Sheppard's head felt as if it would explode. He tried not to move but his nagging body insisted that he wake and shift positions. He was flat on his belly, one arm under his head, the other above, both legs sprawled haphazardly. Aside from the headache, his shoulders and knees were protesting in a tandem rhythm with his heartbeat. He opened his eyes to see…nothing. He felt his face for a blindfold, not finding one. The room was black as pitch.

"Rodney," he called out of the corner of his mouth. Too quiet. He tried again with force, "Rodney." His own voice reverberated through his skull. He waited, eyes closed, for a reply. No breathing, no shuffling, no sound. That meant no Rodney. If Rodney were in there with him, there would be noise. It was a defined cosmic law. 'If he were dead...' his breath hitched at the thought '...Don't go there, John. If they wanted us dead, they wouldn't have used knock-out darts to catch us.'

Holding a deep breath, he drug his arms under his body then pushed up, bending aching knees, eventually twisting to sit on his butt, leaning against the wall. A semi-conscious self-evaluation revealed that his feet were naked, jacket and field gear missing. Pulling his arms around his middle, he noticed the heavy shackles around his wrists, joined by section of thick chain about eighteen inches long. The cold around his ankles led his fingers to feel the same cuffs around each with a separate chain leading somewhere out into the room.

A cough brought the sledge hammer in his head to the forefront of his attention again. The fit sapped his strength. He laid his head back, for a moment to let the pounding in his body abate. He shivered as the cold from the stone floor and wall seeped through his t-shirt and BDUs.

"Damn it," he cursed softly, gasping. His voice echoed back to his ears making him feel even more alone. This was supposed to be a simple trading mission. The people of this planet, P6X-420, were humanoid but not like the Athosian's were humanoid as in human looking. These people were humanoid as in two eyes, one nose and a mouth, two arms and two legs, all in the proper places but they had high foreheads, a bad case of male pattern baldness and ridges like a mountain range that ran from hairline to the bridge of their noses.

"They look like Klingons," Major Sheppard had whispered to Rodney out of the side of his mouth. Rodney had locked him with wide eyes but only responded with a tight exasperated lip twitch and eyebrow arch.

The mission was to come to an acceptable agreement with the Noylan people in the city of Drangoon for food and seed in exchange for medical supplies. The neighboring tribe, the Bahtron people of the Hajob City, disagreed, turning the mission into a fight to escape alive.

John hugged himself tighter, pulling his wandering mind back to the present. 'I gotta get out of here.' Sitting quietly, waiting for his captors to show themselves wasn't telling him where to find Rodney and wasn't helping him gather intel to formulate a plan of escape. At the same time, he could hardly keep his eyes open. He pushed against the floor to stand. Disoriented in the darkness, he used the wall for balance and followed it around to hopefully find a door.

Eyes wide in a natural attempt to see in the dark, he traced the rough walls with his hands as high as he could reach. The chains attached to his ankles scraped the floor. From the range of movement he had, he determined they were probably anchored somewhere in the center of the room. He guesstimated it to be about eight by eight. No doors, no windows, no openings of any kind that he could feel.

John's little walk wasn't helping his aching joints or the pounding in his head. It did warm him up but a tightness was developing across his chest. Another cough slid him down the wall to his original seated position. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, clasping them behind his neck. The pinkie finger of his left hand brushed something at the base of his skull.

Eyebrows furrowed, 'What the hell?'

Agitated fingers felt around the quarter-sized metal disk. 'They messed with my head?'

Breath coming in gasps, he dug at it with his fingernails trying to pry it off. 'They put things in my head.'

Boosted himself onto his knees. It was embedded, near flush, leaving no room to grip it. A frustrated yell climbed up his throat, erupting in the room but sending it echoing back. His fingers slipped, no strength left in them. The room was spinning again. Exhaustion whirled him into a doze, curled up on the floor. The cold inside him grew more insistent making him curl tighter. His dreams were plagued by visions of people with blank faces sticking their gangly fingers into his brain.

A voice pulled him from the unexpected nap. He was shivering so hard it was difficult to unfold himself from his place on the floor. The voice, or rather voices, drawing closer motivated him to push into a sitting position. His head began to swim as soon as he was up and an unreleased cough rattled in his chest. He quieted himself to listen.

"…readings indicate that this one has increased internal temperature. I think he may be ill but I'll need to do an exam to be sure."

The voices came progressively clearer, stopping just to his left. A door that he had missed in his search swung inward, toward his face, blocking his view of the captors. He blinked against the sudden flood of light, eyes tearing.

"Where is he?"

John sat perfectly still, praying they would just go away. Now that he knew where the door was, he had a route out of the room and he could see his chains secured to a huge eye bolt in the center of the room. Maybe he could dig it loose or unscrew it or something. He couldn't think that far ahead yet. Instead, a dark haired man wearing a brown tunic and trousers stepped around the door.

"Ah, here he is. He was hiding from us." The man grinned back at his unseen partner. He sported the lines of age but his pale complexion was that of an indoor person.

'Scientist,' John thought bitterly.

"He doesn't look too good." His voice was condescending, like he was talking about a dog.

John took the opportunity to push himself off the floor to tackle the man. The chains were cumbersome, throwing his move off but it was effective in taking his captor to the ground. He was able to plant two good punches before an overwhelming pain took him to the ground. His mind fuzzed out as his body writhed in agony.

"Nellek, are you alright?" a concerned female voice drifted in from the corridor.

"I am fine, Kiersa." Nellek sat up, taking the correction device from Kiersa, strapping it around his wrist. "He is still quite weak." Nellek reassured her, kneeling beside his new charge. "I am pleased that Master Tomar was gracious enough to give me this one to train. He has fight. Although, this may not be as easy as I expected." Nellek keyed a small device around his wrist, watching the subject's body instantly slump, eyes closing.

The pain flowed through John's body and out of his toes in waves. Once released, he spiraled into blessed oblivion.

Kiersa hitched her brown dress out of the way, to sit on her heels beside Nellek. Tucking her long brown hair behind her ears, she leaned over the subject. She lay a hand on his forehead, shaking her head at the hat radiating from his body. She pulled out a hand held device that displayed data from the implant on a small screen. Touching the screen in various places, she clicked her tongue at the results.

"You're readings on the laboratory monitor were correct." She put the hand held in the pocket of her dress, meeting Nellek's gaze with full concern. "A fever burns within him. We must take him for treatment. Master Tomar would be greatly vexed if this one were to die."

Nellek nodded his agreement, standing to key the intercom just outside the door. "I need to transport Subject 517 to the medical lab."

Nellek returned to Kiersa's side. She was trailing her fingers through his hair. "He is an incredible discovery," he marveled.

Kiersa looked up at him, " Such a frail species. Do you think think are there others?"

"The others that were with him did not have readings like his. I am assuming he is an anomaly amidst their norm."

Kiersa's eyebrows raised. "That is a big assumption considering you have only studied three others of his kind."

"Each unique, though," he defended, raising a finger but not his voice at her. "The female was of the Athosian's race, with whom we have traded many times. The other three were like nothing I have ever seen. The short male that was injured on the first day of their visit, had an interesting core. The round male had similar readings but an artificial piece to his core structure. Now, this one," he laid a hand on 517's shoulder "had the most fascinating readings. I would have liked to keep all, even the Athosian, but when presented with my findings Master Tomar wanted this one."

"What will you do with the other?"

Nellek shrugged, "When this one is fully trained and I do not need him as incentive, he will more than likely end up at a farming camp."

Kiersa looked back at 517, eyes shadowed in thought. Footsteps in the hall brought Nellek to his feet, but she remained seated beside 517. She didn't know why but she almost felt sorry for him knowing, from her experience as a trainer, what the days held for him.

A A A A A A

The incessant pounding in Rodney's head brought him out of the darkness and into the…darkness. He ran a hand across his eyes to clear whatever was blocking the light. Finding nothing on his face, he waggled his fingers in the air but couldn't see even the faintest outline.

"Major Sheppard," he hissed into the darkness. No reason to draw attention to himself by shouting. "Major Sheppard." He listened intently. Unfortunately, he could hear as much as he could see.

Not comfortable having all sides of him exposed, he stood to feel his way to the corner of the room, noting the smooth walls and floor, both warm to the touch. It must radiate because he was warm despite being stripped to his t-shirt and BDUs. He reached the corner and slid back to the floor.

Aside from the headache, he felt groggy. He sighed remembering the incident at the Stargate but he couldn't for the life of him think of why. The Noylan people were friendly and accepted the team with open arms. It had been a peaceful couple of days spent feasting and exchanging stories.

"Come on, McKay, you gotta think," he coaxed himself.

Rodney massaged his temples then moved to rubbing the knots out of the back of his neck. He felt so alone, isolated. Alienating everyone was a self-defense mechanism, coming unbidden to his attitude and the way he treated people. But he knew where to find someone when he needed company. Right now he really needed reassurance. It was creepy in the Pegasus galaxy.

"The first day...," He spoke to the open room, keeping himself company. "...after the introductions, the neighboring people, the... uh..." He snapped his fingers trying to pull up the name. "... the Bahtron's. We hadn't been formally introduced but it was obvious they were extremely opposed to trading with strangers when they tried to set fire to the meeting hall." He paused his train of thought pulling up more information from his foggy brain. "On the other hand, they hardly seemed intelligent enough to mastermind a kidnapping... and for what purpose. Surely they didn't think it would sway the trade deal... or the trade partners. Did the Bahtron people want to be included in the trade agreement? Are they negotiating right now with Elizabeth?" He could almost picture her tight lipped, pacing the control room, not giving one inch into their demands.

He sighed heavily. Finally abandoning the hope of miraculously gaining nocturnal vision and the pounding in his head insisting on it, he curled up on the floor for just a little nap. His last coherent thoughts being of Major Sheppard, wishing he were there.

A A A A A A

Teyla awoke to the bleeping and shuffling sounds of the medical bay. She fought to open her eyes against the bright lights. Her vision was foggy and brain even more so. What had happened?

She laid her head back on the bed with a slight groan, eyes closed, as her memories flooded back. The followers of Tomar Bahtron attacked during the final negotiations of the trade agreement. She sat straight up when she recalled Major Sheppard and Dr McKay were left behind. "Dr Beckett," she called in a panic.

"Welcome back, love," Carson's gentle voice came from the left. "Easy now. You were hit with a pretty powerful sedative." He patted her shoulder, looking over the monitor displaying her vitals.

She looked up at him, eyes full of concern. "Did you get them back?"

Carson pressed his lips together, his expression held sadness when he turned back to her. "No. We sent a team back but they couldn't find any trace of them. The Noylan people are scared witless. They won't even speak to us, for trade or otherwise. It seems that little battle cost several dozen of the Noylan people their lives."

Teyla slapped the bed, grinding her teeth in frustration. "I should have seen it."

"Easy now. You couldn't have known, Teyla. We can't even figure out why they attacked."

She shook her head, closing her eyes in disgust at her own stupidity. "The first day, when Tomar came to Drangoon, every one of his followers had bio-scanners. The fire in the meeting hall was a diversion. He was searching for us." She turned serious eyes to lock onto Carson's. "He is a collector of the unique."

Carson's eyes widened. "And the Ancient gene makes Major Sheppard and Rodney very unique." He keyed the comms in his ear. "Dr Weir, this is Dr Beckett." He waited, shifting his feet impatiently.

"Carson, this is Weir. Is Teyla awake?"

"Aye, and from what she's tellin me, we may have a bigger problem than we suspected."

So many reviews, for just the teaser! Thanks to all of you! I hope this story lives up to your expectations.

Third time is a charm right? Thing keeps eating my formatting!