Title:
In the Shadow of Ruin
Author:
Mer, Hah and Em
Genre:
Drama, Action/Adventure, AU
Warnings:
Violence and a few naughty words
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:
Thanks for all the lovely reviews! We're inspired by the reaction
:D (and we haven't killed each other yet, which is a good sign).
Stealth
Dragon – We love the idea of Shep on a war-torn planet too.
Although this fic isn't Earth-based, we've been inspired to dream
up a new fic all about this.
Chapter
note: Some of our characters are acting a bit different, aren't
they? Well, it is an eeevil AU ;)
In the
Shadow of Ruin
By Mer, Hah and Em
- Chapter 1 -
(8 years later – present day)
"So, what exactly are you saying, Rodney?" Elizabeth Weir leveled the scientist with her gaze. She knew she needed his brilliance, but his technobabble was intolerably dull.
Rodney McKay rolled his eyes. Why everyone couldn't be at least half as smart as him was beyond his comprehension. "I'm saying that there's another gate here on Earth, in Antarctica."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. The way he seemed to think no one was even half as smart as him did nothing for her patience. The arrogant fool would live to regret it one day. "Yes, but where in Antarctica?"
"Nope," Rodney shook his head. "I'm not giving you the information until I get paid."
Annoyed at his complete lack of regard for her position, not to mention his overwhelming arrogance, Elizabeth couldn't take it any more. She slapped him across the face, and raised her eyebrow threateningly. "You will tell me, and you will tell me now, or you may not live to be paid."
He remained unfazed and put on his best smug expression, of which he had many. "If you kill me, then you'll never know what I know."
Damn it! She thought. I hate it when he has a point. Doubly angry at his insolence, she cast a glance at her head bodyguard and current boytoy Marcus Lorne, and without a word he moved forward to grab the scientist by the arm. She handed Lorne a military-style knife and took a step back as her right-hand man pressed the blade against McKay's throat. A trickle of blood began to run down his neck and the arrogant light in his eyes was quickly replaced by a refreshing spark of fear.
"Well, then, I'll just have to find other ways to convince you," Elizabeth warned in a tone that was venomous yet ethereal.
As she'd hoped, Rodney almost wet himself. He'd heard rumors of how Elizabeth had allowed Lorne to convince others to do her bidding. Rumor had it her "negotiation" skills were how she'd come to be in charge of the group of mercenaries in the first place.
"Whoa whoa whoa, let's be rational here!" Rodney panicked, backpedaling from his prior overconfidence. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement."
"The location, Rodney. That's all I'm asking for."
When he hesitated again she took a deep breath, putting on her best "diplomat" look and leaning in close in her typical negotiating manner.
"Ever since Apophis came back and took over earth, we've been scraping together a meager existence, always in hiding and scavenging inferior Earth weapons just to survive. With unlimited access to our very own stargate, we have a chance to actually turn the tide of this battle."
She watched the beads of sweat form on his brow as she slowly ran a single finger down his arm. Yes, he's going to break any minute now, she thought with a grin. "So, what will it be? Do you want to be a hero, or do you want to meet an …unfortunate end?"
Fortunately for the scientist his desire to save the world, or rather, to save himself, won out. Elizabeth gave a heavy sigh as Rodney outlined the location of the second gate. On the one hand, she was glad to finally have the coordinates for what she believed to be the path to the overthrow of the cruel Goa'uld lord; on the other hand, she loved to watch her muscle man work. She'd known McKay wouldn't last long, but she had hoped for a little bit of entertainment before he broke. Nevertheless, with the necessary information extracted, the planning could begin. Her first order of business was to find a pilot to get them past the constant Goa'uld patrols and into Antarctica in one piece, and she knew just the man for the job.
- - - - -
"Sheppard!"
John approached the hot tub slowly, keeping a wary yet submissive eye on its single occupant. Without so much as a glance in his direction, she waved him closer still.
"Yes, my lady," he responded obediently as he stood before her, bowing deeply to Amounet, the queen of Lord Apophis.
He didn't buy into this "I am your god" crap, but he'd learned long ago that a bit of kissing up went a long way with these … whatever they were. He'd definitely learned it the hard way.
"How may I be of service?" he offered.
"I require a massage," his mistress demanded, her eyes flashing. It annoyed him when she flashed her eyes, as if he only obeyed her because of that reminder of what she was, and not because of the whip that was never far from her hand. Of course, right now, he was also annoyed because, in spite of the fact that they had traveled to the tropics on holiday, he was still required to wear the same form-fitting leather pants he always wore. No amount of powder could remedy his discomfort. He knew because he had tried.
"Yes, my lady," he again replied obediently.
However, as he began to walk around the hot tub again to stand behind her, those cold eyes flashed again. "No, join me in here," she demanded.
"I beg your pardon, my lady," with his rising impatience and discomfort, it was getting more difficult to remain calm and act subservient. "But these clothes aren't exactly good for wearing in water."
"You need not worry about that." She eyed him coyly, clearly believing that by now he required no more specific orders.
John sighed inwardly as he understood her command and began to peel off his clothing.
- - - - -
(John remembers)
He tried to move, but his head pounded and his muscled protested, aching with the memory of pain. Whatever that thing was they'd jabbed him with, he hoped he'd never see one again. When he finally managed to push himself up into a sitting position, he noticed his jeans and t-shirt had been exchanged for a silky tunic and pants. The fabric felt soft against his sore body and he wondered why they would provide him with such a comfort after torturing him. Not that anything else about these aliens made any sense. The next thought that crossed his mind was how had he gotten into these clothes? Surely not those oversized goons in freakish suits. Please not those oversized goons in freakish suits.
That incredibly disturbing thought was replaced when he noticed that the cell appeared to completely open on one side. How the hell had he missed that? Pushing himself up, he moved forward slowly, making sure his legs would support his weight. So far, so good. He made his way to the opening in the cell and was relieved to find no guards in the immediate area. It seemed too easy. John took a step towards the hallway and was hit with what felt like a strong electrical charge that sent him flying backwards. Damn it! What the hell was that? Maybe not so easy…
He laid flat on his back, limbs still tingling from the shock, when he heard rhythmic clanging of metallic footsteps approaching. The apparent ringleader of the group punched some buttons, disabling the forcefield. The large man, who John finally noticed had a strange gold tattoo on his forehead, grabbed John's arm roughly and jerked him to his feet, marching him out of the cell.
"Where the hell are we going?" When he received no response, he tried again. "Hey, you…uh… what's your name?" Silence. "Ok…how 'bout I call you Murray. Murray, where the hell are we going?"
The man raised an eyebrow. "I am Teal'c, First Prime of Apophis. And our destination is none of your concern."
The sight of one of those sticks from earlier pointed in his direction silenced any further questions. Eventually, John and his entourage arrived in an elaborately decorated chamber. The room wasn't large, but it was elegant; it appeared to be living quarters of some sort. Then he saw her. The woman from the throne room.
This time she wore no robes, but rather a sleek dress of white silk that rippled when she walked and clung to her well-proportioned figure seductively. Deep brown curls cascaded onto her shoulders, framing her elegant features; dark eyes, delicate nose, full lips stained a rich burgundy. Don't fall for it, John. Brunettes are nothing but trouble.
"Bow before your queen!" a threatening voice behind him commanded as rough hands shoved him to his knees.
"Leave us." She addressed Teal'c and the guards, but her eyes were burning into his. "I am Amounet, queen of Lord Apophis." Her eyes flashed, as if to punctuate.
John had seen the other alien do that before, but it still creeped him out.
"Hey, what's with the eyes, anyway?" Her silent glare continued. "Ok, the eyes are obviously a touchy subject…" After a lengthy silence he continued, "I appreciate the nice pajamas and all, but could I get my clothes back? These pants leave nothing to the imagination..."
"Silence! Stand and remove your clothing."
John quickly got to his feet, taking a step backwards as his eyes grew large. "Whoa whoa whoa! I'm sure you're a nice…uh…woman and all, but I'm not that kind of guy."
"You dare to question your queen?"
"I'm sorry, the last time I checked, the United States didn't have a queen."
Like lightning, a whip appeared in her hand and Amounet grinned menacingly. She walked a slow circle until she was standing behind him, savoring every bit of John's fear. He heard a crack of the whip and let out a gasp as a stinging pain sliced across his back, tearing through his skin and the delicate silk. He made no move to obey her orders and was rewarded with another painful blow to his back. But he did not give in.
Amounet spoke from behind him. "You are fortunate that I appreciate a challenge. Others would not be so…lenient. But in time, you will learn to obey me. They always do."
"We'll see about that."
John braced himself for another whipping, but instead he heard the clicking of heels and was soon face to face with Amounet again. She raised her hand in front of his face, revealing what looked like an elaborate piece of gold jewelry worn on her fingertips and across her palm. He watched in confusion as the orb in the center of her palm began glowing with an orange light, focused on his forehead.
At first he felt dizziness; then, pain began to radiate through his body, continuing to intensify. He struggled to move but was alarmed to find he couldn't move his limbs. What the hell is she doing to me? At last, she released him from her hold. The pain faded to numbness, but he was still frozen where he stood, unable to move anything but his head. John panicked; he was at her mercy now, and he hated nothing more than being helpless.
"What did you do to me?" John demanded, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
"Don't worry, the effects are only temporary." Her voice was soft now, soothing. The calm before the storm? John wondered.
Amounet stepped closer, brushing her hand up his chest. Without another word, she tore his shirt away and he winced as it brushed over the fresh wound on his back. John cringed as she reached for the drawstring of his pants, and with a quick tug they were in a crumpled pile around his feet. He stood in horrified silence, completely exposed in front of this alien queen who looked him over like a piece of meat on display. The fingers of her right hand traced up through his chest hair, then traced his collar bone with a single finger. Her finger trailed across his skin as she circled him, inspecting every bared inch. "Yes, you will be more than adequate."
"Adequate? Adequate for what?"
"To be my personal slave."
- - - - -
