AN: Thanks to everyone for the reviews. I always want to reply to each person individually because it means so much, but then I go and look, and it would take me the entire morning, so in the interest of taking that time to write more of the story, I settle for a mass thank you. I do want you all to know that it does mean a huge amount (as I'm sure a lot of you do know), but if you ever do want to ask specific questions or get a response, feel free to email me. I try to reply to anything that comes in my inbox.
II.
They'd parked the jumper outside the town, far enough that it would be left alone, but not so far they couldn't get to it in the event of an emergency – loosely translated to mean – the wraith.
After meeting up with Klicktik, and his welcoming party, they'd split into two groups. Ronon and Teyla had gone to learn about the Kenai's warrior training program, and Sheppard had gone with McKay to study their weapons technology.
They wound up in a lab that reminded Sheppard of his tenth grade chemistry class. It smelled like sulfur, and there were all types of liquids in canisters and beakers, and some of it bubbled over flames.
Sheppard nudged McKay, "Does this look to you like chemical warfare?"
"If you're asking if I think they're working on the next light beer, no," growled McKay, sotto voice, so they weren't overheard.
"That's what I thought." Damn, Sheppard swore to himself, biological weapons were never good business. They had a nasty habit of killing the people they were created to protect.
"Colonel, if you and Doctor McKay would come this way, please?" a lab worker called to them, and Sheppard realized they'd dropped back, falling behind in their curiosity over the contents of the beakers.
Sheppard jerked his head in acknowledgement, and pulled McKay along. Twenty-four hours to glean all they could, but it'd taken less than one hour to discover bad news.
The next room must be where the chemicals from the previous room were loaded into ballistics, because shells and shell casings were propped on tables, and along the walls.
"As you can see, we have an extensive ordinance program in effect. It has proven to be a deterrent against the wraith, though we have not been wholly successful in driving them away."
McKay snorted, and Sheppard elbowed him.
The speaker paused, waiting for an explanation, and John smiled effacingly, "Impressive," he lied.
The afternoon didn't get any better. After leaving the weapons building, they were shown to a dome shaped building of worship, and lead to a bench that gave Sheppard flashbacks to the time he'd attended church with his best friend's family. There'd been so much up and down, and kneeling, he'd quit trying to follow along and moved when his friend had moved.
Klicktik arrived, and soon others began filing in the room. Sheppard leaned to McKay and asked, "Did you know about this part?"
"What do you think?" McKay hissed back.
"I think you feel that religion is a poor substitute for the unknowns of science," parroted Sheppard.
Rodney's grimace was tinged with pleased satisfaction. "I see you do pay attention to me."
"Only when I have to, McKay," said John. "Only when I have to."
"Setting aside your blatant attempt at humor, which fell short, I might add, what is this? Obviously, some type of religious ceremony, but this wasn't included in the itinerary."
Sheppard didn't know anymore than McKay, but he supposed they'd have to go along with the show, and hope nobody asked them to do anything crazy like sacrifice a virgin, or something.
Or something – because they did – oh, not sacrifice a virgin, but it came close. About halfway into the ceremony, and about the time when Sheppard began to wonder why the hell Dex and Teyla were being spared this, the room fell silent, and all eyes turned on him and McKay.
Klicktik bowed their direction. "Fellow members, we now bid welcome to Doctor Rodney McKay, and Colonel John Sheppard." He stopped and stared at them, waiting expectantly.
McKay looked across at Sheppard, worry beginning to creep across his face. "Do something," he snapped.
"Do what?" Sheppard snapped back. He waved uneasily towards the crowd.
Klicktik finally gestured impatiently at them to come to the altar.
Rodney paled. "No, forget it. I don't do alien altars."
"Just go," Sheppard said tightly. The situation was spiraling out of his control, and the best he could hope for was that it was going to be a harmless speech or something else innocuous required of them.
McKay got up reluctantly, and made his way to the front, Sheppard hot on his heels. Once they were standing, facing the crowd, a priest walked in from an alcove behind them. The priest was leading a goat, virginal white, and bleating at the mistreatment of being led into the room. Obviously, the animal was smarter than the two of them had been.
Sheppard locked eyes with McKay, and both shared the sinking feeling that the goat was the one not leaving this room alive. McKay kind of jerked his head towards Klicktik, just enough for Sheppard to see, and mouthed, 'do something'.
Do what? Elizabeth had told him to be careful. Don't insult the touchy aliens. But partaking in a religious sacrifice wasn't exactly what they'd signed up to do. With a heavy feeling, he realized just how unspecific the agreement had been. In fact, it could be loosely interpreted to mean anything. Shit. How did they manage to keep getting into these kinds of situations?
He cleared his throat nervously, and while the priest began a ritual chant, eased closer to Klicktik and whispered, "We need to leave." It was a poor attempt, but he couldn't say 'we object to what you are about to do on personal levels' or 'killing animals for sacrifice is something frowned upon by our people'.
Klicktik didn't reply, instead he shook his head abruptly to indicate 'be silent' and 'no' at the same time.
Should they leave? It was at that point where the crowd murmured a response to the priest, and the goat was lifted by a pair of helpers who materialized from either side of them, and it was efficiently strapped to the altar on its side, legs tied. A band of leather kept the animals neck in place.
The priest withdrew a dagger, and Sheppard slid closer to McKay pulling him back so they would be out of the splatter zone. This was going to be gruesome, and as soon as they could get away, they would, but for now he could only limit what they had to see.
But the priest didn't approach the goat. He approached them. He stepped in front of McKay, and bowing low, held out the ceremonial dagger.
Sheppard watched as Rodney's face transformed from thinly concealed disgust, to uneasiness, to outraged surprise. "No," he said forcefully, stepping back from the knife. "Sorry, I have this aversion to butchering helpless animals."
The second the words left McKay's mouth, Sheppard realized he'd made a critical error. The priest's face grew angry, and cold, and he waved to the helpers who had secured the goat. Four very burly men, who looked capable of giving Ronon a run for his money came at them, two seized McKay, one on either arm, and John had a sinking feeling that he was losing any façade of control.
"Woah, there, hang on – he didn't mean anything!" protested Sheppard. He moved to retrieve McKay from their clutches, but Klicktik waved for the other two large men, and they grabbed Sheppard.
"He has insulted the priest," said Klicktik gravely. "For this he must face the Beriad."
Beriad? What was that? Sheppard had the uncomfortable sensation of a hundred eyes boring into him, and he tried unsuccessfully to shrug out of the hold the men had on him. "Could we discuss this elsewhere?"
"There is nothing to discuss." Klicktik had their captors haul them behind the altar, out of the way of the priest, but in a location where they had to watch the entire process.
"Damn it, McKay, I told you to keep your mouth shut," Sheppard bitched, as the man on his right twisted his arm back painfully to quiet him.
McKay was a mixture of annoyance and fear. "What was I supposed to do?" he snapped. "Gaily go along with slaughtering the poor little goat?"
"Better the goat than us, don't you think?"
That earned Sheppard a smack on the side of his head. When he straightened from the blow, he glared at the brute responsible. "I get it, okay, be quiet," he muttered. The guard merely looked at the priest, ignoring Sheppard.
The priest was waving a smoking rod of incense over the now calm goat, and Sheppard figured there must've been some chemical in the smoke. He proceeded to chant, and the crowd joined in with the priest, and the guards holding him and McKay began to chant as well.
It was eerie, and when the priest slit the goat's throat, the brutal act seemed so sudden, that it caused Sheppard to jerk back, forgetting he was being held in place.
"Oh, god," McKay muttered, before trying to pull away. He couldn't move, and wound up leaning forward, retching from the gore.
The smell of vomit and blood almost undid Sheppard's stomach as well, but he managed to stamp the nausea down. Klicktik looked annoyed at McKay's reaction. As the people began to leave the room, he ordered their guards to take them to the holding room.
"Our people will come looking for us," threatened Sheppard, as they were dragged from the room.
Klicktik didn't look concerned. "They are welcome to do so, but that won't stop your friend from facing the Beriad tonight."
They were tossed in a room that was bare of any amenities; a mattress in a corner, and a small hole that must be the toilet. Sheppard paced restlessly at first, while McKay dropped on the mattress, trying to recover his stomach.
It'd probably been an hour before either of them spoke, but nerves finally broke Rodney. "Where are Ronon and Teyla? Do you think they know what's happened?"
"I don't know, and I don't know."
"You're a lot of help."
Sheppard turned away from the wall he was examining for a way out. "Like you? You know, McKay, you are nine-tenths reaction, and one-tenth control. You never think before you open that mouth of yours. How you managed to -"
McKay was, at that moment, ten-tenths outrage; "You're blaming me for this?"
"I wasn't the one who pissed off the priest."
Rodney jumped to his feet. "No, you're right. You didn't say anything. In fact, you stood there while that psychotic throwback to the good old days handed me the dagger. What was I supposed to do? God, I can hardly cut my steak once it's cooked!"
"You didn't give me a chance!" retorted Sheppard heatedly.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said McKay sarcastically. "Should I have waited till I was cutting the damn things throat?"
"If that's what it took!"
Both men were now only inches apart, and the anger was crackling between the two. At Sheppard's final dig, Rodney pulled back, and the sudden chill in the room had nothing to do with the ambient temperature. "I see," he said finally.
Sheppard saw the hurt beneath the surface of McKay, and regretted his harsh words. He should've done something before it got to that point. Should've hauled their asses out of that ceremony from the get-go. It was his fault the situation had escalated. "No, I'm sorry," he said wearily. "I should've gotten us out of there before it came to that."
"Yeah, well, maybe you should've," agreed McKay, but added, "And I shouldn't have reacted like I did. You're right, I screwed up. I speak first, think later."
The door opening sent both men pulling back in wary preparation. The same four guards stepped in, and waited after moving to the side. Klicktik, and a new guy they hadn't met before, walked in to stand before them.
"This is Rakura, leader of the Beriad, he is here to ensure that the contestant is prepared and ready to fight."
Fight? Sheppard frowned at the usage of contestant and fight. "What is this Beriad?" He'd assumed it was some kind of trial or punishment.
Rakura seemed startled by their lack of knowledge, but explained, "It is a fight in the arena of training. The accused faces off with a trained warrior. It is how we teach our warriors, and it provides valuable experience before we must face the wraith. It also serves as a form of entertainment."
"So all I have to do is fight?" asked McKay.
"Can I take his place?" Sheppard could hold his own against an opponent a lot better than McKay. He'd rather be the one beaten up, than Rodney. Plus, he was more expendable, and Atlantis could function with him laid up in the infirmary, as opposed to the head scientist.
Klicktik answered both. "Yes, and you may."
"Then it is settled," said Rakura.
"No, it's not!" exploded McKay.
Sheppard growled, "Not now, Rodney."
"You are not fighting my battles, Sheppard. I did it, I should be the one to fight. I don't need protecting like some weak younger sibling."
"You're my responsibility, and I don't want you fighting, simple as that."
McKay disagreed, vehemently. "No," he said. "Kukura, or whatever your name is, take me to this arena." He held out his hands to be led away.
Sheppard pushed down his arms, and stepped in front. "I am his commander, therefore, I have the final say in what happens, and I say I'm taking his place, clear?" he addressed Rakura and Klicktik.
"It is your right," said Rakura.
Klicktik nodded. "Take them to the arena," he ordered.
As they were pushed out the room, McKay shot Sheppard a look that promised this wasn't over by a long shot.
TBC…