Title: In the Shadow of Ruin
Author: Mer, Hah and Em
Genre: Drama, Action/Adventure, AU
Warnings: Violence, a few naughty words and some adult situations
Season/Spoilers: none
Summary: Earth is enslaved by the Goa'uld when their first attack is not thwarted, but years later a small band of mercenaries led by Weir discovers the secret of Atlantis, which could prove to be their salvation. AU. Shep-centered. Weir, McKay, Lorne, Teyla and other familar faces are involved.
Disclaimer: We don't own any of the characters. If we did, Shep and Lorne would be our cabana boys and we wouldn't get much writing done.

AN: This is an idea we've been kicking around for a while. What if our favorite SGA characters were a bit eeevil? What if Earth's fate had been a bit different? What if Shep wore leather pants? This fic is the result of those thoughts. Much like the show, it's a drama/adventure with some humor mixed in (Em insisted we have a "plot" too). Lorne is heavily involved in this fic, and we're giving him the fanon-approved first name Marcus. Enjoy :D

The prologue takes place around the time of the beginning of SG-1 season 1 (in an alternate timeline, of course)

In the Shadow of Ruin

By Mer, Hah and Em

- Prologue -

John awoke to the sound of shattering glass. In one fluid motion, he instinctively grabbed the gun off his nightstand, sat up, and aimed into the darkness. As his eyes scanned the room, an explosion rocked the building and the sounds of terrified screams filled his ears. He jumped out of bed, gun still aimed and blanket now haphazardly strewn across the floor, and felt a gust of cold air against his bare chest. Looking towards the source of the breeze, he saw shards of glass covering the floor and smelled smoke seeping in through a broken window. Shit. I knew this neighborhood had gone to hell.

He quickly slipped on his pants and shoes and crept over to the window, glass crunching beneath his feet. Peering cautiously outside, he saw the scene of chaos and horror playing out several stories below; soldiers in strange armor that glinted in the light marched the streets, rounding up civilians into groups and shooting down those who screamed and ran in panic. Balls of flame bombarded buildings just blocks away, shaking his building and casting an eerie red glow in the smoke that billowed over the besieged city.

For a minute he wondered if he was having another one of his dreams, those that had haunted him since his time in the Air Force. But those always followed an all too familiar pattern, and these bizarre soldiers were definitely something new and it sent a chill down his spine. An even closer explosion rocked the building's foundation and the reality of the danger hit John with full force. He had to get out of there.

Without hesitation, John tucked the handgun into the waistband of his pants, pulled on a shirt, and ran for the door.

As John emerged from his apartment building, he realised the error of his impulsive decision. He'd run straight into what looked like a war zone, with nothing but a handgun and limited ammo with which to defend himself. He quickly surveyed the area; dozens of the foreign soldiers were guarding groups of frightened people, and few of the guards wore intricately designed metal helmets that completely covered their heads. They carried large staff-like weapons and shouted orders amongst themselves in a language he didn't understand.

One of the captives, who John recognised as a neighbor, must have noticed that he was armed because he began crying out to him for help. Oh crap, there goes my cover. As he'd feared, the shouting drew the attention of the enemy soldiers towards him and several began to converge on his position. Run… or fight? He began to back away, but there was only a locked door behind him and his keys were three stories up. Okay, there goes run. John raised his gun and aimed at the nearest soldier.

"You know, some of us were trying to sleep."

John didn't see any sign that they understood him, or that they cared what he had to say.

"You! Come with us," one armored man ordered as he aimed his staff weapon at John.

"I'd really rather not."

He fired at the soldier who was aiming at him, but the bullets just glanced off his armor. Before he could fire again, John saw a fiery blast from the staff weapon shooting towards him and rolled out of the way just in time, as the blast singed his shirt. He scrambled for cover behind a nearby car and tried to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. Well, that didn't work. What's plan B? Peering over the hood of the car, he took careful aim at one of soldiers and fired at his head. The armored man dropped instantly, but the others barely blinked and continued towards him. John managed to take out a few more before running out of ammo, but there were still a dozen more men coming at him. Ok… This is where it gets interesting.

After considering his options, he decided he didn't have much to lose by making a break for it. Catching him off guard as he came around the side of the car, John managed to land a solid punch to the enemy's face and wrestled the weapon from his hands. But before he could figure out how to use it, John was struck from behind by the end of a staff and the blow knocked the wind out of him and forced him to his knees. He was quickly surrounded by more armored men, all pointing weapons at him. Helpless to do anything else, he raised his hands in resignation, hoping whoever this strange enemy was wouldn't shoot him now that he was no longer a threat.

At that moment, John's eyes were drawn skyward by a thundering noise and he watched in awe and horror as a ship, larger than any craft he had ever seen, descended on the city. His mind wandered back to the idea that this was all a terrible dream; such things didn't exist in this world. From the massive, darkened form of the hovering ship, smaller craft swarmed into the red sky. They didn't look like any fighter jet John had ever seen before. Don't tell me… that's not a damn UFO up there… He tried to wrap his mind around the concept, when another more familiar noise caught his attention. He grinned at the…aliens around him, who were also watching the spectacle in the skies.

"Yeah, you hear that?" John sneered at the alien soldiers. "These are our guys."

John winced as one of them slammed the point of his staff weapon into a sensitive spot on his side.

"Silence!" the man commanded, and turned to his fellow soldiers. "Put this one with the rest. See that he doesn't make any more trouble."

As he was roughly shuffled along with more of the captives, John watched transfixed as dozens of military jets flew in formation to meet the enemy armada. But as the alien ships opened fire and fighter after fighter erupted into flame and smoke, the debris rained over the city, shattered, along with all hope of victory. He felt a pang of regret being on the ground, when he knew he should be up there where he belonged; to die flying was surely a better fate than whatever awaited him.

- - - - -

After the noise of the battle faded, it was replaced with crying and whimpering from the desolate crowd, still oblivious to what the alien soldiers intended to do with them. Of the several hundred captives, John Sheppard was the most outwardly calm, as his mind raced through plans of possible escape routes from this desperate situation. Unfortunately, they all led to certain death. Screwed… we are so screwed.

John noticed the bombardments of the city had also ceased, and a relative calm fell over the night. It was then that he spotted the object moving towards them - another craft coming from the mothership, larger than the fighters from the recent battle. Great…what now? The craft hovered briefly overhead, then set down a short distance away. The door opened towards the crowd with a hiss, and in the blinding light from within, John could make out the silhouette of a woman.

The female figure walked down the ship's ramp onto the street, with a fluid grace that didn't seem quite human. Light from the ship and the fire-lit sky glinted off her gold headdress and illuminated the sheer fabric of her dress, though her face was still obscured in darkness. John was momentarily distracted by her beauty and had to remind himself that whoever this woman was, she was the enemy. As she continued to approach, escorted by more of the helmet-wearing soldiers, the light of a nearby fire revealed her face and the red light flashed in her eyes. John shivered involuntarily as he got the disconcerting feeling that she was staring directly at him with those cold, inhuman eyes.

Her guards ordered captives aside as the woman strode through the crowd, surveying them for some unknown purpose. John's heart skipped a beat as she stopped directly in front of him and lingered. He tried to keep a brave face under her intense gaze as she walked around him, circling like a hunter inspecting her prey.

The woman turned to her guards and pointed a slender finger at John. "This one." She abruptly turned her back and started back toward the ship. "Kill the rest."

"Woah, what did you say?" The woman showed no reaction and kept walking. "Hey, I'm talking to you!--"

Before he could react, two soldiers grabbed John by both arms and began to drag him to the ship, following her.

"What the hell are you doing! What do you want with me? You don't have to kill anyone! Please--"

They had reached the ramp when the screams began. John managed to turn around as the ramp folded up behind them, in time to see a row of alien soldiers firing on the crowd as people ran in terror and fell to the alien weapons.

- - - - -

John was led through the dimly-lit corridors of the ship, following behind the mysterious woman and surrounded on all sides by armored guards. After a few more sharp jabs from the staff weapons, he'd decided that maybe it was best to surrender to his fate and go quietly. Observing his surroundings, he noticed the décor was in complete contrast to what he expected to see on any kind of spaceship. Large curtains of a silky white fabric hung from the ceiling along every wall and flickering torches were the only visible sources of light, casting a warm glow on the hallway. Through a door that slid open automatically, the hallway opened up into a large chamber, similarly adorned with draped fabric and torch lights. A tall golden throne was perched on a pedestal at the far end of the grand room, and in it sat a man with a commanding presence.

The woman walked up the steps and took her place beside the man in the throne, who looked down at John with disdain. Like his companion, he also wore a headdress, and was dressed in elaborately embellished golden robes that cascaded onto the floor. He looks like he's in charge here… maybe now I'll get some answers.

"Kneel!" one of the solders commanded.

"I'd really prefer to stand, if that's ok with--" John felt a sharp, painful blow to the back of his legs and his knees buckled and hit the ground hard. Rough hands held him in place. "--or, I could just kneel."

The robed man rose to his feet, towering over John from his place on the pedestal and smirked arrogantly. His eyes suddenly flashed with a light from within, as if confirming his alien nature. He spoke forcefully, with a strangely deep and distorted voice that echoed in the vast space.

"I am your god."

John stifled a grin. "You're my what now?"

The man's expression turned to fury and he waved a signal to his men. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw a guard approach him holding a smaller rod-like weapon with three pointed prongs on the end. This can't be good… When he felt it jab him just below his neck, his entire body exploded with searing pain and a tortured cry escaped his lips. After what seemed like hours of agony, he felt himself falling as his vision blurred and faded. The last thing John saw was the smug and satisfied face of the alien leader, before succumbing to the merciful darkness.

- - - - -

AN: The next chapter will return to present-day Stargate time and we'll meet up with some more familiar faces. Please let us know if you like where we're headed with this :)