CHAPTER 6

John dropped down onto his sorry excuse for a bed, exhausted. At least today all he had were a few bruises. Teyla had always accused him of not practicing right after beating his ass into the ground. The fact that she was right was beside the point; currently his every waking hour was spent practicing, and he was still getting beaten to a pulp every day.

Marcus' insistence that John was holding back didn't help matters any either. The harsh trainer had just finished telling John that he would be participating in the match tomorrow, despite his currently exhausted state and worse performance. The man had finished with, "If you win, your training will continue. If you lose, then you are not worth of my time and effort, as well as dead."

How wonderfully inspiring.

John groaned as he got up off the bed and moved to the small water basin in the corner. Splashing the tepid water on his face, he couldn't stop the sick feeling creeping through his gut. His conscience was screaming at him to refuse to go out there tomorrow, refuse to kill for mass entertainment. As his grip tightened on the edge of the basin he shoved the voice back. Dammit, he wasn't just going to roll over and let himself be killed either.

And it's not just for me, he tried to convince himself. McKay is still out there and I'll be damned if I don't get us both out of this.

Angry, either with himself or the situation, probably both, he flopped back onto the mattress. Grinding his palms into his eyes, a feeling of helplessness washed over him. And John Sheppard hated feeling helpless.

Tomorrow everything would change.


Blue eyes darting about nervously Rodney walked down the corridors of the Colosseum. The roaring crowded were bad enough, but his close proximity to the Senator and his bloodthirsty wife was ten times worse. The frozen looks that had been directed his way when Caius had informed them that McKay was coming to the "games" had made him wish that he were back in his tiny white room. Garai's only response had been a feral grin and the comments, "At least this way you both can see what real men are like. I hope you have the stomach for it"

Rodney could have just given Caius a detailed description of Sheppard, but no Rodney never could leave anything important to anybody but himself.

Sighing softly he followed Caius out into the small section reserved for members of the senate. The tension in the mammoth arena was palpable. Looking over at Agrippena he could swear the woman was drooling in anticipation. The bloodlust he saw in here eyes nearly made him sick, as it was he only paled dramatically before dropping into the seat the boy had indicated. He'd never been good with blood. What the hell had he been thinking, convincing Caius to bring him here? Nothing had even happened yet, and already he felt woozy!

Slowly steadying his breathing, Rodney looked around the arena. He was acutely reminded of sporting events back on earth. There were people walking up and down the aisles selling food and drinks as the sun beat mercilessly down overhead. However, in their small section, scantily clad slaves, who seemed to be there for more than just food service, were passing around the food and wine; everything was of course complimentary.

So this is what pure gluttony looks like.

"Isn't she fantastic?"

Rodney started at the whimsical adolescent voice and turned his gaze to the teenage boy next to him, who was currently drooling over one of the slave girls. Rodney turned to look at the object of the boy's affection. She didn't appear to be more than twenty years old, but was still offering her "services" to the lusty old men around her. He noticed the prominent collar around her neck, slightly more elegant than his own, but it still served the same purpose. Rodney was truly and utterly disgusted.

"Hmm, yes. Of course I prefer women to girls, no accounting for taste."

Caius didn't seem to register a word he'd said.

"Her name is Iris, she services both the senators and the winning gladiators and is the kindest soul you'll ever meet. She's been a favorite of my father for several years now, I don't know how she stands it."

Rodney snorted his agreement with the last statement, when he realized exactly what the boy had said.

"She's in contact with the gladiators?"

If Rodney was right and Sheppard was in one of the gladiator troupes, then they would need a way to communicate with each other. If this girl were as kind as Caius said, then maybe she'd be willing to carry a message for him.

"Hmm," Caius muttered, snapping back to reality. "Yes, she is…"

Rodney watched as the boy's brain quickly caught up with what he'd been insinuating.

"You can't possibly expect her to…" Caius sputtered indignantly.

"Why don't you introduce me, and find out, hmm?"

Caius looked like he was about to refuse when the girl took notice of them and started to walk over. A small figure with black hair, golden skin, and an open smile, Rodney felt a pang of sympathy for the sort of life she must lead.

"Caius, it is good to see you. Is this the tutor your mother spoke of?" the submissive voice asked, gesturing towards Rodney.

"It is good to see you as well Isis," Rodney almost laughed at the breathlessness in the boy's voice. "And yes, this is my tutor, Doctor Rodney McKay."

The girl looked at him with empty eyes, "Doctor." A deep resounding trumpet sounded and the dull roar of the crowd thundered higher, clamoring for violence and blood.

"Perhaps we can speak after. I hope you both enjoy the games."

Rodney nodded as the pallor returned to his face; somehow he didn't think that was going to happen.


The howling of the crowd above mingled with the sound of crashing steel, and John stood stock-still as the outfitter went around tightening all the straps to his armor. All reservations about what he was about to do had been placed in the back of his mind by the time they shoved on his helmet.

John stepped forward to get his weapons. He'd been amazed the first time he used them at their strength and flexibility; the two blades were remarkably thin. He simply held one in each hand as he approached the door. Any extra equipment would only get in his way.

When he heard the call for him to walk out, his mind was filled with a clean emptiness. All that was left was the ruthlessly efficient soldier.

When Sheppard stepped out into the harsh sunlight, it was like watching some sort of figure from legend taking center stage. For a moment John stood like a gleaming golden statue, his bronze covered armor and helmet reflecting the sun, the twin blades held steadily in front of him. Then, as he suddenly started moving forward the crowd broke into a thunderous roar; nothing was better than watching a new gladiator.

But John couldn't hear the screeching din surrounding him; his senses were all keenly analyzing the size of the arena and searching for his opponent. When his eyes caught sight of the figure emerging from the shadows only one word entered his mind

crap

The man looked to be around six feet tall, and was wielding an ashandarei. The sword tipped staff was extremely difficult to wield, but remarkably dangerous when mastered. And John could tell right away that this man knew what he doing. Marcus really did want him to win or die trying, didn't he?

As the two men approached one another John crossed his weapons in salute, before rushing forward. As blade and staff met John looked into the other man's eyes and saw only death and blood lust, and with that John's resolve was set.

What followed was like a violent dance. John spun about, ducking to avoid the blade brought towards his head. He swung for the legs of his opponent, who jumped back to avoid the swords. John had no idea of how much time passed as he swung, ducked, rolled and lunged. Each time his blades came up against the ashandarei it felt like hitting a brick wall. John could feel the sheer strength behind the weapon. But for all the man's strength John realized that that was all there was, strength but no speed. John's smaller size was to his advantage he was able to move out of the way of any heavy blows.

John couldn't keep up the pace when a flurry of blows followed his every move, and when the blade next came down towards him he could only misdirect the blow. The blade caught his thigh and he could feel as it sliced through the skin. Hissing in pain he rolled to the side, avoiding the following blows. As he stood up, John gratefully realized that it was only a flesh wound; the blade hadn't reached deep enough to cut muscle.

John now garnered all the speed he could to try and reach past the heavy defense. He struck out from behind with his left blade, was blocked, and suddenly reversed directions to strike a heavy blow with his right blade to the unprotected skin below the man's arm. John continued around and ducked allowing his momentum to bring his left arm into contact with the man's leg. The howl that followed this move let John know he'd finally caused some damage. He quickly stood up and brought his blades to the front to block the incoming blow. This strike however was able to make contact with his left shoulder, John barely able to deflect it enough to not remove his entire arm.

Blood was spilling freely now from both men. However, John's last blow had slowed down his opponent even more. John dropped his left blade and levered his elbow so his arm was behind his back. Circling one another slowly, each man knew that the next contact would bring the end. Taking one final look into his opponent's eyes, John rushed forward.

Ducking to avoid the blow aimed at his weak shoulder he lunged for the man's middle. John's blade slid seemingly effortlessly into his opponent's side. And as the other man began to fall John slowly stood up, allowing gravity to pull the blade from his hand as the dead body it was embedded in fell to the ground.

Gasping, John knelt over, gripping his knees. He didn't even register it at first, but slowly he acknowledged the rushing sound invading his silence. And when he did he thought he might be knocked over by the sheer force of sound rushing down over him. The screams of the crowd were overwhelming. He carefully pulled off his helmet and reached down to grab his sword. Slowly he looked around the arena.

So this is what I almost died for. To entertain a bloodthirsty mob.

In disgust he gave a mock bow, and grinned sardonically as the roars grew even louder. With that he marched off their bloody stage, followed by the amplified voice of an announcer, proclaiming him as "Your victor, The Shepherd".


Rodney slid back in his seat, slowly releasing the death grip he had had on the seat in front of him. As he watched John stalk back off the arena floor, Rodney brought a shaking hand up to his eyes. One clear thought managed to pervade through his horrified mind, I've got to get us out of here now.

Seeing the slave girl Iris walking by, Rodney grabbed her wrist. She paused and looked down in confusion. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was paying attention he pulled her down.

Whispering as softly as he could Rodney asked, "You sometimes interact with the gladiators, correct?"

She nodded.

"That gladiator who just won, is there anyway you could deliver him a small message for me?"

She drew her eyebrows together slowly, "That would depend on the message."

With a sigh he answered, "Nothing treasonous or anything like that. Just tell him that McKay currently the property of Senator Garai."

She looked at him for a brief second. "I will try and do as you ask."

Rodney nodded his thanks and let go of her hand. Turning his attention inward, Rodney went over the current situation. He now knew for certain where Sheppard was, and hopefully Sheppard would know where Rodney was. All he had to do now was come up with some sort of escape plan.

Right, piece of cake.


A/N: A big I'm sorry to everyone for the long wait for the update. I hope I didn't lose too many readers. I blame it on a deadly combination of writer's block, RL, and sheer laziness. Thanks to all the reviewers and those of you who encouraged me to keep going. I promise I will finish this; hopefully without any more two month breaks. Anyhow, let me know what ya'all thought! Next time we'll see about trying to get our boys back home, with some bumps along the way of course.