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.
Arise, Shine.
Carson stripped off the heavy robes that blended him with the Noylan's dropping them to the side of his make-shift tent. He lay down on the cot wearing only his t-shirt and uniform pants. The day had been boring, meandering around the city acting like a tourist, trying to impress the covert Bahtron spy. He couldn't see anyone acting strangely or spy-ish. Nothing out of the ordinary but he wasn't exactly sure what constituted ordinary either. Now he was tired from the incredibly long drawn out hours of sunlight and sweaty from the robes, together making him cranky. He flopped onto his belly, grumbling. Lt Ford, Teyla, Sgt Bates and Sgt Markham were camping out by the Stargate, waiting for him to activate the tracking beacon. This was such a bad idea, he couldn't even begin to explain how much.
Watching the door flap lazily whip in the evening breeze, his eyes grew heavy. After a few long blinks, his eyes finally closed. His mind drifted, wondering what was happening to Major Sheppard and Rodney. His imagination could be quite graphic at times. He was hoping the Bahtron didn't come but at the same time he was praying they did and that he was blessed enough to get his missing friends home.
A sharp sting to the upper part of his right arm, snapped his eyes open. In the pale moonlight streaming through the open door flap he could just make out a toothpick-sized dart protruding from his bare arm. He didn't even get a chance to move, thinking only of activating the tracking device but the strength drained from his limbs too soon. As consciousness fled, he saw two shadowed figures tiptoe into his tent. Then everything went dark.
A A A A A A
Aiden woke to the smell of coffee brewing on a campfire. He breathed deeply, coming back from dreamland at a leisurely pace. He didn't want to leave the arms of the lady-friend that had been visiting his dreams of late. He rolled onto his side, opening his eyes a crack to see Markham pouring a steaming cup of the dark liquid stimulant. The man was scruffy, as they all were from camping out for three nights. Widening his field of vision, he noticed the sky was pinking up with the dawn. "Anyone heard from Dr Beckett yet?"
Teyla came from behind, stepping over him with an armload of small branches. "Not yet. He is quite nervous about all of this, making it difficult for him to sleep." She dumped the wood near the fire, dusting off her clothes. She didn't continue, sucking at a thorn prick in her finger.
Markham passed her the cup of coffee, then drew himself one, finishing her train of thought, "So we thought we would give him a few more hours."
"You're going to spoil him," Aiden chuckled, puffing his chest and throwing his arms wide in a momentous stretch. "Can't have that." He stood twisting his back until he got three good pops in each direction. "Where's Sgt Bates?"
Markham tossed his head in the direction of the far bushes. "Call of nature."
"I'll go check on Beckett, then." They had wanted the doctor to blend so he didn't have a walkie, only the slim Ancient tracking device affixed to his chest under his right arm. Aiden rubbed his arms against the chilly wind, donned all of his gear and began the ten minute trek to Dr Beckett's tent.
The sun was peeking over the horizon as he neared the brown burlap tent the doctor had to barter for in the city. The fire in the front had long ago burnt out and the door flap was whipping freely in the wind.
Aiden's insides grew cold at the quiet permeating the camp. "Doc?" he called toward the tent. He expected to see the bleary doctor pop his head out but he didn't. Holding his weapon at the ready, he peeked in. Aiden's heart went double-time seeing the cot tipped and the bedding strewn about the dirt floor.
He ran back out calling to the doctor. Maybe he was relieving himself. But why would the tent be trashed? Maybe he was in the village. This early? "Doc?" he called spinning a slow circle to scan the flat prairie-like terrain. Receiving no reply, he keyed his comms, "Teyla, Markham. Dr Beckett is gone... We lost him."
A A A A A A
Rodney paced the small room shouting and cursing until his legs gave out. He had been returned to pitch darkness shortly after Major Sheppard was taken. The food hadn't shown up yet either and his stomach was telling him it was way past time.
He threw himself to the floor against the wall as opposite the door as he could figure. His imagination was running wild at what that rat-bastard Nellek was doing to Major Sheppard. The pain he himself inflicted by just saying John's name, made Rodney sick to his stomach. He wished Carson were here to ease the major's suffering or that Lt Ford were here to blow that nut-case away. But they weren't here and it was up to him to come up with a way to get them both out of there. But how? They wouldn't let talk to him, made no demands, he hadn't seen one other person since Nellek took the major. He was an animal to them and so was Major Sheppard.
A A A A A A
He was in perfect blackness. It was thick, cradling him, lulling him for a long time. He didn't have to think or feel or see. It was a quiet, peaceful place. There was no pain, no fear, no Tomar. He didn't have to be a leader or savior or warrior. But too soon it began to recede, his consciousness to fight upward, back to the surface of reality. He didn't want to go back.
Tomar had toyed with him, cat and mouse, lion and antelope, Wraith and human. But he didn't quit, couldn't quit. For Rodney, for the innocents of this world, for the innocents of any other world. Tomar was a power hungry lunatic. John could never allow him the strength that Ancient technology would grant him.
Tomar showed him many items that looked to be of Ancient craftsmanship, some weapons, some not, most like nothing he had ever seen before. John knew that all he had to do was touch the things and his DNA would betray him so he kept Tomar busy with a combination of sarcastic remarks, escape attempts, and the ever-effective silent treatment.
When he wouldn't cooperate, Tomar used the pain device but his preferred method of punishment seemed to be physical contact. Leaving the pain on, he would slap John around. Slap, not punch. One punch would have probably killed him. No matter how he goaded Tomar, he wouldn't get angry enough to use a fist.
Eventually time whited out. John couldn't keep a thought anymore. He had no idea how long it took, but his body failed to respond after being slapped down again.
Tomar's boots had appeared in front of his face, voice rasp in his ear, "You are going to make this hard, aren't you. Tomorrow will be much more fun."
And John knew no more until now. The pain from the device was still there, set on about the level of a dentist drilling a nerve without novocaine. Through the nagging hurt, he knew he wasn't going to be able to retain his sanity much longer.
He came into fire, burning through every muscle, every bone, every fiber of his being. It consumed him, stealing the breath from his lungs, choking him. Lying on his belly, panting, he felt the world come rushing back. He pried his eyes open to see the same room. He heaved a whimpering breath. He wanted this to be a dream so badly it consumed him.
"Ah, I see you are awake." That haunting voice made John's insides churn. Sucking a deep breath, he lifted his head to search out the origin. To look Tomar in the eye was to reassure himself that he hadn't given in to the torture.
He seemed to be in the center of the room. Tomar was to his left, sitting on the low steps leading up to the throne. With immense effort, John slowly pushed himself to his knees. His head felt too heavy causing him to lose balance and brace himself with his hands. He felt too much like he was bowing but he couldn't move any further. Tomar had begun to circle in slow tormenting footsteps. He concentrated on the stone floor to keep the growing panic hidden. "Is it tomorrow already?" he rasped.
Tomar knelt before the trembling being. Yesterday was for fun but today would be for true, no more delays. "I have something for you."
John turned his head to look directly into Tomar's eyes. Hard, heartless, soulless eyes. He tried to suppress a chill that started at the crown of his head, traveling through to his toes. He failed miserably. He covered with, "Oh, really? You shouldn't've."
John couldn't stop a flinch when Tomar shot a hand out to wrap around the back of his neck. Pulling John close, he whispered, "Show. Me."
Heaving great breaths in near panic, John shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat. "No," he whispered blinking back the moisture that sprang to his eyes. He knew what would come for his refusal. His body dreaded it. When Tomar released him, he returned his gaze to the floor, struggling to control his breathing.
The footsteps echoed past John and continued for what seemed like forever. John closed his stinging eyes, incrementally lowering his head to rest on his forearms. He was so tired, the pain device was still on causing his nerves to pulse with his heartbeat, he yearned for home. During the first parts of this evasive game, he thought about activating anything that looked like a weapon and using it on the bastard but he figured he wouldn't get far with Tomar in possession of the wrist controller. Then he would be killed knowing he had given him a step toward dominating the people of this planet. And he still had Rodney, Tomar still had Rodney and could use him to activate more weapons or worse things. That was as far as his thinking got before pain required his utmost attention.
"Look at what I have for you, 517."
Tomar's almost gleeful voice called him from inside himself. He didn't want to look. Apparently he didn't perk up fast enough. His breath caught when the pain intensified, whiting out his vision. When he turned, pushing himself into a seated position, the pain lessened to the drill in the tooth level. He squinted at the two stumbling figures Tomar's brutes were shoving toward him.
Rodney swallowed against the panic raising inside. Two goons had yanked him from the pitch dark cell to lead him down countless corridors for who knows how long. Long enough that his glucose-deprived leg muscles were quavering. Maybe it was his turn to get an implant in his head. Maybe they were taking him to Major Sheppard. Maybe they were going to kill him.
Unfortunately, fear and bullies and low-blood sugar tended to loosen his tongue. "Where are we going? Did I mention that I have an acute aversion to pain? I tend to respond well to a hot meal, plushy accommodations, a little ki..." His rambling was interrupted by a slap to the back of the head from the goon on the right, making him stumble. Rodney felt it best to shut his mouth. Rubbing the spot on his head, he marched on with his escort eventually ending up in a vast torch-lit room lined with equipment. Glancing as he was pushed past, Rodney could make out various Ancient trademarks on some of the pieces.
A familiar figure was being pushed along several steps in front of him. Peering through the dim light, he was able to make out Carson. What the hell was he doing here?
Carson felt as if someone were doing a jig inside his head. He had woke up some time ago in complete darkness. He was barely getting his bearings when two big galoots yanked him out to lead him down a million corridors of exact description. Perchance they were taking him to Major Sheppard and Rodney.
Shooting a sideways glance at the guards, he moved his hand discreetly under his right armpit. Pretending to scratch his ribs, he ran his thumb across the Ancient device affixed there. Unable to check it, he had no idea if it was even working. Dropping his hand, he prayed it was.
The corridor opened out into a vast room. Carson slowed, gawking at all of the shelves lined with shelves of equipment. An iron grip on his arm propelled him forward. He squinted through the poor lighting catching sight of a large man. From the description the Noylan people gave, he deduced it must be Tomar. He was terrifyingly big.
Toward the front of the room was a massive throne on a dais. Kneeling at the foot of those steps was a familiar form. "Major Sheppard," Carson called past the hulking Tomar.
John's eyes widened at the sight of Dr Beckett and behind him Rodney. He had a sinking feeling that he knew what Tomar's gift would be. His concern for his team was cut off when Carson called out to him. Every muscle locked rigid with agony. He collapsed to the floor, his face grinding into the brick, a long scream erupting from his soul.
A A A A A A
Lt Ford paced before the open Stargate. "I have no excuse, ma'am. We should have expected this. I..."
"Aiden, I need you to focus. Dr Beckett had the tracking device on him, right?" Elizabeth's feelings were going a dozen different directions. She wrung her fingers, pacing in front of Grodin at the control panel.
Lt Ford beat back his guilt at losing the doctor. He knew it wouldn't do anybody a bit of good. He squared his jaw, straightened his shoulders. "Yes, ma'am. We placed it under his arm hoping they wouldn't check there."
"And how long has he been missing?"
Aiden glanced at his watch. "I checked on him less than half an hour ago. The fire was long dead so he was probably taken some time in the night... What?" He turned to Markham, running toward him.
"Lieutenant?" Elizabeth frowned, staring hard at nothing, trying to catch a piece of the conversation happening on the planet.
"We have it. It's coming from the mountains east of the Noylan city, about a half hour hike from here." Lt Ford's voice held obvious relief while taking on a hardened tone. He was ready to retrieve his missing team mates.
"Be safe, lieutenant. "
"Always, ma'am. Ford out." As the gate snapped off, Lt Ford turned to his team. "Let's bring them home."
A A A A A A
Tomar looked between the two newcomers, frozen by the distress of their companion, and 517, writhing on the floor. "Think kind thoughts, 517," he called, in a light voice. He motioned the guards to bring the two closer. "See the gift I have brought you? I told you today would be fun."
John fought hard to being his breathing under control. With all his mental strength, he concentrated on bringing his twitching body back under control. Rodney was here, now... and Carson. How the hell did Carson get here? What would Tomar do to them?
The pain receded back to the dentist drill level once again. He almost thought the short sharp one was better than the low constant. He lay on the floor, shaking uncontrollably, curled so he still had full view of his friends.
Carson had nearly jumped from his skin at the gut-wrenching cry that erupted from Major Sheppard. The man looked in a bad way, nothing defined in this lighting but the fact that he was on the floor in agony was enough for Carson's insides to twist. He turned to Rodney, who had just reached his side as they were shoved forward, his face stark shock. "What in bloody hell was that?"
Rodney's face grew long, his shoulder's slumped. He pinned Carson with wide blue eyes. "Don't say his name," he said simply, forcefully. A pop on the back of the head from one of the goons, forced his attention forward.
John watched as his friends got closer. Rodney walked with his gaze barely off the floor, hands twitching at his sides, feet dragging. John knew he needed to eat soon. Carson paced him, eyes wide taking in the whole room. John knew from the jumpy, twitchy body language that the doctor was frightened near out of his wits.
Tomar's long legs obstructed his view, making him blink to shorten his focus. He followed the legs up to the amused face. Blinked again as Tomar knelt, leaning close. He was fiddling with a device about equal to his over-sized hand. "We will start small." He dangled it above John. "Activate it."
John clenched his hands into fists, pulling them under his chest, spoke through grit teeth, "No."
Tomar let out a heavy sigh. "Your companions each have the unique piece for which I have been searching, the one that activates these devices. Stronger than others I have used but not as strong as yours. All the others died quickly, either by the mechanism they were touching or by my hand because they could work nothing. The likelihood of them dying, one way or the other, is great."
John gave him nothing but a hard stare and stubborn silence.
"I grow weary of this game." He dropped to a knee in front of john. He tangled his fingers in his short hair, pulling him to his knees. "For every refusal you give me, I will break an appendage..." Turned his head to face the others. "Of one of your companions."
John glared at Tomar out of the corner of his eye. "I will. Kill you," he stated clearly, resolutely. Somehow Tomar would die by his hand.
Tomar turned his gaze to meet John's. A wide smile split his face. "No you won't. Do you know why?"
Cold slowly started to seep through John's insides. He waited as Tomar left an agonizingly long silence, eyes never leaving his, before continuing. He felt Tomar's hand leave his hair to touch the device in his neck.
"If you kill me." Tapped the disk hard. "This will kill you. Slowly, painfully. Your senses will overload, your systems will shut down and you will die." He set the unknown device beside 517 and stood swiftly, leaving him braced on his hands and knees. "So, let's get started, shall we? No. More. Games." Tomar stopped, facing 517's cell mate. He took the trembling man's hand in his own, pulling it straight. When the man tried to pull back, the guards restrained him. When his companion made a move to protest, another guard clamped a large hand over his mouth.
If Rodney had had anything in his stomach, he would have spewed it onto the floor as Tomar rolled his arm, prepping it for a clean break. He wished himself to faint, not caring about the ribbing he would receive when this was over... if they were still alive.
Carson heaved breath through his nose, his lips pinched hard against his teeth, held immobile against the broad chest of the brute. Panic raised inside him, seeing Tomar position Rodney's arm. That would take pins to set, months to heal, probably muscle and nerve damage in the long run.
John pulled a whimpering breath. His hands shaking so hard he almost dropped it, he picked up the device.
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