TITLE: A Price Too High
AUTHOR: Wraithfodder
Copyright Disclaimer: See part 1.
SUMMARY: Sheppard must strike an agreement to free his friends, but is he ready to pay the price asked?
PART 3
Sheppard didn't much care for the two strong-arm goons whom he'd been handed over to once he'd been granted entry to the small castle. They escorted him through the winding halls, up the stairs, into what looked like someone's rather spacious private quarters. Correction: bedroom or chamber or something similar. It was definitely not your standard meeting room. A desk and some chairs would have been nice but instead, the room was very open, with a tall vaulted ceiling, and what looked like an oval Oriental rug covering the stone floor. A simple but ornately adorned large couch of some sort sat decoratively by a window hidden by thick curtains. Oh, he wasn't very fond of castles, not after the last pseudo-one he'd stepped foot into.
"I understand you wish to trade." The voice was female, husky and authoritative. He turned to find himself facing a woman who stood at least six inches shorter than him, but the pile of thick auburn hair twirled atop her head added another inch or so. She was perhaps a few years younger than him. Her regal bearing more than made up for her diminutive size, but what he found more worrisome was the almost avaricious manner in which she was eyeing him from head to toe.
"Protran Audran?" he said smoothly. People had such weird titles in the Pegasus Galaxy.
"Yes," she acknowledged, continuing her disturbing visual assessment of him. "My husband, Protran Millan, is away in Markel on business. I will conduct any business in his absence."
"That's fine by me, Protran," he replied back.
"You may call me Audran," she said.
"Colonel John Sheppard," he decided to add. She probably knew who he was as after all, he'd been sent for.
She circled him, her deep green dress trailing along the floor. Her actions were a bit unnerving, but oddly enough, not as disturbing as the expressions on the two guards who still stood somewhat behind him. They seemed to look almost resigned to what was occurring.
"Yes," Audran suddenly spoke, a smile in her voice. "I believe we have an agreement."
Alarm bells went off in his head. He'd barely said a thing and she was agreeing to... what? And what did she want in return? "As we indicated to your people, we were interested in investigating a building within your village," he spoke up as she stopped just inches in front of him.
"Oh?" She was staring at his shoulders.
Sheppard nodded. He shot a quick glance at his shoulders. Okay, no dandruff, so why the interest? He resisted the urge to take a step back. Hadn't these people heard of personal space? "Yes, well, our team is looking for technology left behind by the Ancestors. You know of them?"
Her deep blue eyes narrowed very slightly. "I have heard of them mentioned in the Readings."
Readings. That had to mean ancient, or Ancient, text of some kind, Sheppard surmised. "Might we take a look at these Readings?"
"Which building are you interested in visiting?" she asked. She walked over to the window, beckoning him to join her. She brushed aside the thick curtains.
"That one," he pointed out at the view of the village square. "The one with the three spires on top. It's your sanctuary, right?"
"Ah," she murmured.
He really didn't like the sound of that. It was kind of 'ah' that meant that the building probably did not have free admission, as if they didn't already know that. And he was getting to the point he really didn't like asking just precisely what folks in the Pegasus Galaxy considered fair trading value. The last mission had been a disaster. The local natives had wanted Teyla's hair, literally. Some stupid fertility ritual and they'd never seen that particular color of hair, and that had sent them into a real tizzy and well, damn good thing they all could run like bats out of hell. They'd all looked pretty stupid when they'd piled through the gate gasping for breath, but hey, they'd hadn't been scalped! And now Teyla was on the mainland, helping to settle some Athosian dispute, and missing out on all the new fun and games.
"So, we can take a look?" he asked hopefully.
"I see no reason why not," she responded, pulling back the curtains very carefully to obscure the window behind it. "However, those who wish to visit must be accompanied by guards. We value our history."
"That's understandable." He smiled, noticing that the guards had followed them over to the window. It was like having a pair of trained dogs just hovering around, waiting to chew off his kneecaps if he made a mistake. Or worse, trained redwood trees. These guys were big.
"Then we can strike an agreement," she replied. A second later, she was squeezing his upper arm.
Okay, this was getting a little too touchy-feely for his liking. Trading fruit, C4 or nuclear technology was one thing; he was getting damned tired of Pegasus Galaxy women eyeing him like he was a hunk of cheese. He backed up, but ran smack up against redwood tree #1. "We can trade technology," he remarked quickly. "To help you protect your people from the wraith. In fact, we might be able to find something in your Readings, which are, uh, over in that building which we really wouldn't mind visiting right about now."
"That would be useful, but at the moment, I have more pressing needs," she replied, her voice even huskier than before. She ran her hand down from his shoulder to his elbow as though calculating something.
He politely pulled away from her, but the trees followed him, like shreds of iron ore attracted to a magnet. Damn, he would agree to hand over his weapons. But they'd had no choice in the matter, and he couldn't say 'no' to a meeting with this woman, not with two of his people captive and well, everybody here seemed pretty friendly.
"So, if you would get out of your clothes now," said Audran very matter-of-factly.
"What?" Sheppard coughed out. He blinked in astonishment. That was too friendly!
"Did you not hear what I said?" she remarked, looking puzzled. Her voice sounded even huskier than before as she encircled her hand around one of his wrists.
"Doesn't your husband object to this?" He yanked his wrist away. Good lord, what a stupid thing to say.
She grinned and he felt his stomach curdle in horror as she spoke. "This was his idea."
Oh crap.
The door to the room slammed open and a woman entered in a brusque stride. In probably any other situation he might have done a double-take. She was in her mid-thirties, pretty much on the gorgeous side with long wavy brown hair and brilliant green eyes. If she were in a bar on Earth, she'd be fighting off the guys left and right, but all Sheppard wanted to do was flee when he saw her. Not the sight of her, really, but of the several long straps of leather that draped over her shoulder to fall almost to the floor. Those bits of leather simply did not go with her pale yellow outfit. She put down the satchel she'd been carrying, pulling out something that was rolled up. She unfurled a long black leather strap with little metal studs regularly dotting it every inch. She snapped it out. It struck the floor with a resounding harsh noise that did not bode well for him.
"Why is he still in his clothes?" The woman demanded, squinting her eyes in an almost predatory glare.
Sheppard actually gulped. "Okay, I am so not into S&M," Sheppard muttered weakly under his breath. Nor was he into group sex, because another woman with an even large satchel entered the room, pulling out a similarly studded strap from her bag.
Audran stared at him, an odd expression creeping onto her flawless face. Maybe the terminology didn't translate but he was positive that his apprehension definitely did. "I will be back momentarily, Hetcha," she said, abruptly turning and leaving the room. "Prepare him."
"I don't think so," he replied tersely, but he quickly found any escape hindered as two sets of beefy hands clamped solidly atop each shoulder.
PART 4
"Unless you've got a store of wraith enzyme I'm unaware of," remarked McKay snidely, "You're not breaking those bars."
Ronon Dex turned away from the series of long steel bars that kept them imprisoned in the room. It wasn't as though it was a dank jail cell with straw on the floor and a bucket instead of a toilet. Instead, it was a decent sized room where they could sleep, and a bathroom off to the side for privacy. McKay had no idea how bad things could truly be.
"I was checking," said Ronon. He sat down at the table next to McKay, who was busy munching on a large grain roll while checking his computer.
"Are you going to eat that?" Ronon asked, pointing toward a few small pieces of fruit on the plate.
"No, it looks and smells suspiciously of citrus. It would kill me quicker than a wraith," replied McKay. "Ah hah!"
"What?" Ronon easily polished off the spare pieces of fruit. He was truly surprised how well fed they were for being prisoners. Of course, the guards could just be lulling them into a false sense of security. Sheppard had been gone for hours with no word.
"If this is any indication, there is a ZedPM in that building with the…" He frowned for a moment, forehead crinkling in thought. "Cats, yes, they looked like small stone cats, in front of it."
"The two-storey stone building with the three spires, triple-locked double doors in front where we were captured?" asked Ronon.
McKay paused. "Uh, yeah, that one."
Ronon wondered if McKay had truly noticed those details, but then again, it was Sheppard's job, as well as his own, to ensure the safety of preoccupied scientists such as McKay. The details of where escape lay, or assailants might hide, was a higher priority for him than where a ZPM might be tucked away.
McKay continued to chatter on about the particular energy signature that had drawn them toward the village. Ronon tuned him out, focusing on noises outside in the corridor that led to their cell. Fortunately, McKay seemed too preoccupied with potential finds to realize just how long Sheppard had been gone. "Sssh," Ronon motioned.
"What?"
"The guards are back."
"Oh good, we can get some—" McKay stood to get up and go over to the bars, but Ronon quickly motioned him to be silent. "What?" McKay scowled.
"I want to hear what they're talking about."
Slowly, but surely, the two guards were busy talking, either unaware they were being overhead, or they simply did not care. As the conversation progressed, Ronon realized dismally that it was the latter.
"…probably take all night."
"Think he'll cooperate?"
A snorted noise of amusement. "You think he has a choice? The Protran can be very persuasive."
"I heard the outworlders want entry to the Raelan Sanctuary," said the other voice. "The price will be high."
"I've never been in there myself."
"I was chosen for the ceremony once on Caffan Day, but still, I really don't have that good a threshold for pain to gain entry," came the other voice, followed by a sharp laugh.
Before Ronon could stop him, McKay, who had also heard the increasingly twisted conversation, leapt up and went to the bars. "Hey!"
The two guards went silent. Ronon had to resist the temptation to smack the scientist very hard and knock his head into the bars. A moment later, the two guards came over.
"We can't let you out until the agreement is struck," said the one guard. He was tall but rangy, and seemed lackadaisical in his guard duties. Ronon knew he could easily snap the man in two if the need arose.
"Excuse me, um…" began McKay.
"Termen," said the rangy man. "This is Grazerr." He indicated the bigger, black-haired man who looked more formidable.
"Termen," repeated McKay. Ronon could tell the man was doing everything possible to maintain his composure. "We're wondering when our friend Colonel Sheppard will be returning."
The two guards looked at each other. "Whenever the Protran is done with him."
"Done with him?" parroted McKay in worry.
"It will probably take all evening," added Grazerr. "The Protran isn't in the best of moods."
Ronon was about to talk when McKay just swatted him. "We couldn't help but overhear you mentioned something about pain."
"Yeah, the agreement transaction can be painful," nodded Terman.
"I assume you mean that in a figurative sense," continued McKay.
"No. If Hetcha's involved, there are always needles." Termen winced but in all honesty did not look that bothered by the admission. Grazerr nodded emphatically.
"We can here to trade in good faith," snarled Ronon, his anger surfacing. He hoped the men would stray closer to the steel bars. Now he had no qualms about killing either of them.
"And the agreement will be struck in good faith, as it always is." Grazerr looked upset, as if his honor was being questioned.
"Needles?" McKay's voice sounded on the verge of cracking. "All we wanted—"
"The agreement, yes." Now Termen was definitely upset and when he took a better look at Ronon, took a step back from the bars as if realizing the danger. "The Protran always honors her word."
"Her? She's a she?" McKay sounded shocked.
"Well, yes, Protran Millan is away," Termen said as if McKay had just asked the stupidest question in the galaxy. "Protran Audran rules while he is away."
"And during that time," added Grazerr. "She will select the men who resemble Protran Millan, and they are required to fulfill her needs."
Ronon thought he'd seen a lot in his lifetime, but even this sounded strange even to him.
"What?" squeaked McKay.
"Well, why do you think she selected your colonel?" Termen was now definitely annoyed, as if the prisoners were idiots. "He fits her requirements. You," he eyed Ronon with unease, "are too big, and you…" The look he gave McKay was rather insulting. "Are just not what she desires."
"De-des…" sputtered McKay. "So she just abducts strangers off the streets?"
"He was not abducted. He went willingly, and obviously since he has not returned, he has agreed to her … request." Terman spat out the last word with a slight shudder. "Besides, it is not as though the few men in the village who met her requirements have not fulfilled it, as was their duty."
"They just all ran for the hills when Protran Millan left," muttered Grazerr under his breath.
Terman smacked his companion hard across the chest as a warning. "You should not speak of the Protran's actions in such a manner."
Grazerr rubbed his sore chest, nodding in apology. "We must leave. We will be back later with lunch, unless your friend returns earlier." With that statement, both men departed, despite McKay's angry yells and pleadings.
Ronon finally pulled McKay away from the bars. "You're wasting your time."
"We have to get out of here! Rescue Sheppard!"
"We're trapped. I've already checked," reminded Ronon.
"How can you be so calm?" McKay accused hotly. "They're—they're torturing him! I mean, they were talking needles. Needles mean drugs! Persuasive? That's persuasion. That's just a weasel word for torture! They don't even care that we know!"
Weasel word? Ronon had no idea what that term meant, but then half of what McKay said made no sense.
"What is it with the women in this galaxy? Does Sheppard have a 'I'm available, attack me,' sign painted on his forehead!" continued McKay, pacing frantically.
Ronon finally grabbed the man by the arm, swung him around and plopped him in the chair. "You're giving me a headache," he said curtly. "We'll rescue him.
"And in the meantime, this Protran woman is—she's—" McKay couldn't get out the words.
Ronon walked over to the bars, jerking at them savagely with both hands. They were solid. They were trapped. The only consolation was that the guards had not spoken of anybody being killed by this Protran. Sheppard was a soldier. He could endure whatever this woman could inflict upon him. Life in the Pegasus Galaxy could be harsh, and there was far worse suffering than what might be occurring to Sheppard at that very moment.
To Be Continued