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.

Off to never-never land.

"Are you telling me they have no idea where this Tomar takes his victims?" Elizabeth couldn't keep her voice from raising as she spoke. She stared hard at the open wormhole envisioning Lt Ford on the other side head high, shoulders back, giving his report.

Lt Ford stood before the Stargate, hands clasped loosely in front of him. "Yes, ma'am, unfortunately. No one sees them come and go. That or they're too afraid to say. No one wants to disappear in the middle of the night, if you know what I mean."

"I catch your drift, lieutenant."

"But we have searched the city where his followers live and found an abandoned lab. There is a good chance he has a new lab at another location... where he does something to the people that somehow kills them, then dumps them back here for the Noylan's to dispose of. The leader of the Noylan people, Hersha, says the Bahtron's visit every week or so."

"Well, that's good, right? You can follow them back?"

"If it was the Ancient gene he was looking for, we are hoping greed will bring him back." Aiden turned to face the rest of the team. "We have a sort of plan."

Carson balked at Aiden's plan. "No, we don't. We have a long shot. An idiotic idear that has only a fraction of a percent's chance in Hades of workin..."

Elizabeth frowned at Carson's interruption. She knew the man was normally quiet and reserved but when he was frightened, he wasted no time firing up the motor to his mouth. She exchanged a look with Peter before cutting the doctor off, "Carson, what's the plan?"

Aiden glared at the doctor as he came to stand alongside the lieutenant. "It is the best we've got. I didn't hear you throwing out any ideas..."

"Gentlemen," Dr Weir resorted to her motherly tone of voice. 'I sound like my mother and I don't even have children,' she sighed, rubbing her temples. She squared her shoulders again. "I need to know what you are planning."

Carson and Aiden broke from the staring contest to look toward the Stargate at Dr Weir's call. Carson let out a soft sigh while Aiden answered her question.

"We want to use Dr Beckett as bait. Having found two people with the gene, we are hoping Tomar will continue to send his scouts to find more." He turned hard eyes to Carson, almost daring him to protest. "We could fit Dr Beckett with a tracking device..."

Elizabeth finished the plan for him. "And follow him when they take him. It would work only if the Bahtron's come back."

Ford nodded. "From the intel we've gather, there is good reason to believe that an insider that notifies Tomar when visitors arrive."

"Carson, it sounds like a good plan." Elizabeth wasn't military and she wasn't going to order him to do something he was uncomfortable with. She heard a heavy sigh and could picture the Scot pacing, running his hand through his hair.

Carson set his hands on his hips, keeping his gaze on the ground. "No, it doesn't... but we don't have a host of other options, do we." He knew he wasn't getting out of it and if it would bring the major and Rodney back, he would do it.

"Be safe." Came Elizabeth's blessing.

Aiden set a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "We'll update you every twenty-four hours until something happens. Ford out." He signaled Bates to shut down the gate.

A A A A A A

Kiersa blinked against the sleep in her eyes. She and Nellek had been alternating observation of Subject 517 so each could get adequate sleep but Nellek's definition of adequate and hers were two different things.

517 and the other had stopped speaking just as her shift was beginning, the effects of the training device making it impossible for them to interact. 517 was showing signs of withdrawing from his companion even before then.

A beeping from the control panel brought her attention to the monitor displaying the constant reading of the training device. She frowned at the results. It read that 517's brain activity had decreased significantly. This was a positive sign, finally. She depressed the comms to call Nellek.

A A A A A A

Rodney sat huddled in the corner, knees drawn up, arms around his chest. He was bored and under-stimulated so his mind was wandering through random thoughts. They hadn't seen anyone since being placed in the same room. They had been fed six times since their first meal as prisoners. Assuming three meals a day, it made this halfway through day three. Of course, he didn't know how long they had been there before the first meal. With no way of telling time they could be getting fed only twice a day which would make this about day four. Surely a rescue plan was in effect, right? Why was Lt Ford taking so long to find them? Maybe this place was underground... or on another world... how would they be found then?

A strong exhale from across the room brought Rodney's gaze to Major Sheppard. The major was sitting in the diagonal corner from Rodney, knees drawn up, as far from him as possible while being confined to the same room. He had retreated there after becoming so overwhelmed by the pain device that he couldn't form a coherent thought, apparent to Rodney by the vacant stares he fell into while recovering from each attack.

It started with any mention of the major's name or rank. Thinking themselves clever, they used code names- Bob and Doug, Bo and Luke, even Solo and Chewy. Rodney, of course, adamantly insisting he in no way resembled a seven foot wookie. But it adapted quickly, punishing Major Sheppard whenever it sensed he was on the receiving end of a conversation, whether he spoke or not.

"Probably works off of how your brain reacts when you know you are be addressed," Rodney had tried to rationalize.

The device would light, the pain would come and Rodney could only watch as his friend was reduced to a screaming, quaking ball of pain.

John hadn't expressed it in so many words, but Rodney could see his resolve was weakening. He had stopped talking two meals ago, only sitting in his corner, his features emotionless. His eyes were dark, haunted. Rodney couldn't miss the hopeless look on his face before he buried his face in his folded arms.

Rodney was shaken from his thoughts by the clanking signaling the door was about to open. He pushed to his feet, wincing at the knots in his thighs from disuse. He glanced to see if the major noticed but he hadn't even moved. He thought about getting closer to him, somehow protect him. He didn't even get a chance to move before the door swung wide, admitting an arrogant looking Bahtron man.

He gave Rodney only a glance as he walked over to kneel beside John. "517," he called softly.

Rodney sucked in a breath. 517. A cold knot formed in his stomach. He had witnessed first hand the pain these people were inflicting on the major for accepting his own name, to make him forget. Major Sheppard said they were trying to make him forget who he was. 'What should I do? I have to get us out of this. What would Major Sheppard do?'

Nellek walked in the cell. 517 had withdrawn from his companion to sit in the corner, forearms braced on raised knees, head bowed. The two were separate, that was good. This method was working. He glanced at the round one standing a bit unsteadily in the opposite corner. He looked as if he were building up the nerve to be defiant. It didn't matter. It was time to take 517 to meet Master Tomar.

Nellek lowered to one knee beside 517. He called him gently, not wanting to startle him. "517, you must wake. Master Tomar wishes to meet you." He placed a gentle hand on his head.

Rodney watched as the Bahtron man put his hand on Major Sheppard's head, stroking his forehead with his thumb. Anger overwhelmed him, making him shake with contained rage. He glanced at the two brutes, both watching him like cats eyeing a caged rat. He felt like a rat, lab rat. He was gaining new respect for Carson's little white mice.

Someone was calling him. What was happening? He couldn't remember where he was. His body hurt, his headed pounded with his heartbeat. Something bad had happened but he couldn't remember what. Something bad had happened but he wasn't in the medical bay. Couldn't smell the sterility or feel the crisp air. He wanted to step through the fog that was keeping his memories hidden. What was that something?

A pinpoint of memory broke through the darkness. He grasped it, caressed it, followed it until reality came crashing back, slamming into him so hard he gasped aloud.

Someone was touching him, pushing his hair around. He prayed it was Carson. Carson was good. Carson was nice. Carson could make the pain go away. Carson could make this thing in his head go away. Yep, Carson was good. John lift his head to see Nellek. His gut knotted. This wasn't over. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to go home. Wanted to sleep in his own bed. Wanted to eat real food. Were military rations considered real food? Rodney liked them. Rodney would eat pretty much anything. Rodney... where was Rodney?

Glassy dark eyes roamed until they locked onto helpless blue. He didn't look so bad, shaky, scruffy but unharmed. 'Can't talk to him. I want to talk to him, tell him... what? Everything will be okay? There is no rescue. Elizabeth didn't send a rescue for Colonel Sumner... a colonel... why would she risk lives for us?... Oh my god, there is no rescue...'

Nellek watched the conflict play on 517's features. Hands clenching and releasing, toes curling and flexing, eyes lacked focus. When his breath began to catch in his throat, Nellek turned to his assistants, "Get him up. He isn't responding very well."

Rodney couldn't take his eyes off Major Sheppard's. His insides churned, shoulders slumped at the direction things seemed to be moving. They were going to take Major Sheppard away. He would be alone again. Hopelessness closed it's fist on his chest, feeling as if it would suffocate him. What was going to happen to them now?

A A A A A A

Nellek had taken him away from Rodney. Brought him to another room. He had tried to keep mental notes on directions and visual markers but eventually one torch-lit stone corridor looked like the other, all blurring together. Nearly convinced they were running him in circles to keep him confused, he started to protest when they came up to a set of intricately carved double doors.

Nellek pushed the doors wide, leading them into a cavernous room. The torch light flickered against the stone making it look like the dungeon of a horror movie castle. John kept his head lowered while flashing his gaze around to take in the towering columns and low pile red carpeting that stretched straight to the other side of the room.

The double doors closed behind him with an echoing rumble that resonated in John's heart. He squashed the fear, pushed the dread down deep, swallowed against the tightness in his throat. The entourage continued herding him forward, passing neatly shelved gadgets, apparatus and doohickeys, to stop at the base of a low dais on which sat an over-sized throne. This looked like a museum or a pirate's booty room.

Nellek watched 517 out of the corner of his eye. He held in the glee that threatened to erupt in a laugh at the awe in the subject's features. He wasn't sure how this meeting would go. It was a little early as 517 wasn't submissive yet and hadn't accepted his new life.

"So this is the one," a deep, echoy voice filled John's ears. He blinked, not seeing where the voice was coming from. He looked to the left to see a man, Klingon-looking just like all the other inhabitants of this planet, with a long cape that drug the ground, sauntering toward them. He stopped directly in front of him, towering a foot taller than John and twice as broad.

Nellek and his men lowered to one knee in respect for their master. He didn't notice until too late that 517 had not.

John pulled his shoulders back, squared his jaw, stared hard at Tomar.

"Ahh," Tomar purred. He stepped close to John, meeting his angry gaze with one of humor. "Defiance." He tilted to look at the back of Nellek's head. "I am disappointed, master trainer. You should have had this taken care of by now."

"Yes, Master Tomar. I wasn't expecting your call for a few more..." Nellek's excuse was interrupted by 517 crashing down on top of him. They landed in a heap, 517 thoroughly stunned by the powerful backhand. Nellek helped him to his knees, keeping his own eyes averted. 517 spat blood, wiping his chin with a shaky hand.

"Give me the control device."

Master Tomar's clipped voice made Nellek's insides quiver. He didn't hesitate in handing over the wrist device.

John's head reeled at the force behind the idle slap from Tomar. He bowled into Nellek then rebounded to land on the stone floor. Trying to gather his wits, he rested on his knees. If this was how the day would continue, it wouldn't be long before John was dead. Then it would all be over. No more pain. No more worries... Worries... Rodney. He had to bargain for Rodney.

"Hey," his voice was scratchy from abuse. Tomar turned to face him, the control mechanism in his hands. John tried not to let the fear show on his face. He swallowed back the lump in his throat before proceeding. "I want to make a deal with you."

Tomar arched an eyebrow at this new attitude. He looked down at the creature at his feet. Physically weak, shock of dark hair, dark eyes... expressive eyes, full of fear but his actions, the set of his shoulders, the clenching of his jaw, spoke resistance and courage. Tomar smiled, a thrill racing through him when the brave front wavered.

John went on trying to ignore the knot in his stomach tied by the creepy smile that spread across Tomar's face. "I'll do whatever you want but you have to let my team mate go."

"I do not make deals," Tomar continued in that tormenting drawl. He slowly walked around 517. "I can make you do anything I want... and your team mate as well." He dropped to one knee behind 517, setting his hand heavily on the subject's shoulder. He traced the control device lightly with his index finger, pressing upward to the top of the head. Flexing and curling his fingers in 517's hair, he lowered his voice to whisper, "You are my property."

John grit his teeth as Tomar continued to invade his personal space. Anger and fear coursed through his body making him tremble. John froze as Tomar touched the device in the back of his neck. His eyes caught something shiny on the side of the throne, locked onto it, concentrating to block out the icy fingers in his hair. Like scratching a dog. When Tomar claimed him as property, the anger surged, overloading his senses, pushing him into action. While twisting to the left, he brought his right elbow up and back against Tomar face. He didn't wait to see the damage but rather shoved forward to roll to his feet, facing Nellek and the two goons.

Nellek watched Master Tomar out of the corner of his eye. He had never seen the master work but it was incredible how he could instill so much fear with only a touch. He saw the rage building in 517's face but didn't realize how far it would go until too late. The tantrum lasted only a blink but Master Tomar was on his back, the control device had flung out of his hand, skittering across the floor and 517 was punching, kicking and dodging the two underlings for all he was worth.

Nellek's men made quick work of pulling 517's arms straight behind him, forcing him to kneel until his head nearly rested on the floor. 517's breath was coming in great exerted gasps from the fight and being bent nearly double.

John relaxed in the grip of his captors to relieve the pressure on his shoulders. His cheekbone ached where one of the goons got in a hit. He kept his eyes on the floor, the lump returning to his throat. He failed on two counts, Rodney wasn't free and he wasn't dead.

Nellek held a hand to Master Tomar, pulling him to his feet. Then went in search of the control device.

"Nellek." Tomar's voice echoed through the room. Nellek trotted up to the master's side. "You have failed." In one swift movement, he snapped the trainers neck, letting him fall to the floor.

John couldn't breathe as he stared into Nellek's dead gaze. Tomar's boots came into his field of vision, saw him pry the recovered wrist device from Nellek's clenched fist. He thought his heart would beat out of his chest. 'God, help me.'

Tomar knelt before 517, attaching the controller to his wrist. "According to the texts I have accumulated, it takes a special piece in the core structure to activate the machines I have gathered. You have the purest form of that piece I have encountered. I need you to show me how to use them."

John's mind raced. The Ancient gene. He was taking about the Ancient gene... so whatever he found, if it was really Ancient stuff, would be pretty powerful. This guy was a power-hungry psychotic. Many innocent people would be enslaved and murdered at his hand. He couldn't risk that, even at the cost of losing his own life... or Rodney's. He was yanked from his thoughts by his head being pulled up by a fistful of hair. He met Tomar's cold gray eyes with complete defiance, even challenge.

"Show me," Tomar snarled, his patience clearly exhausted.

"No," John ground between clenched teeth.

"Then I hope pain is something you enjoy."

I hope I still have friends! Thanks for all the encouraging reviews!