A/N: As I prepared this chapter, a kitten slept on my shoulder. It's so precious! What's even more precious is when her fur gets all prickly and she starts making this quiet hissing sound, which scares the crap out of our huge dog. You go girl! (She's like the size of the dog's paw. Too funny.)

4

This – is - Stupid! And Rodney was going to make sure, when he got back to Atlantis, that Elizabeth got it through her head the futility of these trading missions, because if you didn't make enemies, then you made crap deals and iffy allies. Then there was the whole potential wraith skipping off to the buffet that was earth and eating their fill that needed dealing with. Yes, a trifle compared to our real need to shop at the Ancient's version of a dollar store. Rodney couldn't wrap his brain around the possible potential this trade mission held. Okay, so this guy with his fancy collection of Ancient devices had created quite a name for himself for the same reason. It was just more piddly pieces of techno that was more beneficial to the singular person than an entire city, or good for nothing more than blowing everyone to pieces.

Sheppard could have attested to that, but he wasn't around to give his insight into the havoc some devices were good at wreaking. Sheppard's own fault, really, for going Buck Rogers on them and flying off face-first into the mouth of hell. It proved, once and for all, that for being MENSA potential, Sheppard was an idiot. Had – had been an idiot. Had...

Rodney trailed behind the line of Lanteans heading up the dusty road leading away from the town and to the palace the towns folk kept insisting was only a mansion, rising up out of the tree line like the beginnings of a mountain. In front of him was Ronon, then Lorne, and finally their fearless leader of the day, Teyla. It wasn't that long of a trek, about a quarter of a mile, but Rodney's frustration was turning it into one of those bad dreams where one keeps running and running without ever moving. By the time they reached the excessively wide stairs and massive double doors, he was panting and griping under his breath, slapping dust off his pants.

" They couldn't have provided us with transportation?" Rodney growled. " They have vehicles. What the hell is wrong with people? Always refusing transportation for the strangers, making them walk just because they're afraid we might make off with their little horse-thing and buggy. I mean do they really think we care..."

" McKay," Ronon rumbled. " I suggest you stop."

McKay glared at Ronon with everything he had and didn't even know he had. " No! I will not stop. I'm sick of this crap! Yeah, it may be their world and they're the ones calling all the shots, but they could be a little more decent about it rather than trying to shove superiority that isn't even there to begin with into our faces..."

" McKay," Ronon snarled between clenched teeth. The runner was getting mad, and McKay was feeling sadistically vindictive about it. On top of everything else he was sick of in the universe, he was also getting sick of being told what to do, and being bullied, and being told to shut up. Since he was being forced on this mission against his will, he would tear into it and every other frustration until the cows came home and Rodney turned blue in the face.

Ronon advanced toward Rodney, towering, but Rodney held his ground. Teyla stepped in between to intercede, mouth open at the ready with a reply, when the doors thundered open and a man in a black uniform and with a thick-muscled body that rivaled Ronon's stepped out. He eyed the group with a mixture of suspicion and distaste.

" The people from the Ancestral home?" He asked. Teyla stepped forward, smiling warmly.

" Yes, I am Teyla Emmigan..."

" This way please," the man cut in, and turned to lead the way with or without the newly arrived guests. The team entered, and Rodney frowned at all the wealth being shoved down their throats. Marble floors, silken carpets, gold frames, and antiques both primitive and advanced. They were taken down a corridor the size of two of Atlantis' corridors, foot-falls echoing, and their breath amplified. They turned a corner into yet another cavern of a hall decked out in what only the filthy rich could afford, went up a short flight of overly wide steps, and another turn to more double doors that the big man opened to reveal an actual chamber.

Devices cluttered the shelves and cabinets. Rodney felt torn. One part, the old rational part, wished him to start salivating, and his hands itched to touch a few things and give his own ATA gene a go. Granted, it would take a crap load of effort, but the results were always worth it as long as they didn't involve explosions, electrocutions, or out of body experiences. Another part of him, a part getting a lot more headway in his conscious than it should have, prickled with irritation at the devices. Ancient devices were Ancient devices, and half the time didn't do squat except blink and make funny noises.

It was getting to be official for Rodney. One more thing he was growing sick of – Ancient device activation. Ancient devices period.

A tall, paunch-bellied man was standing behind the table across from the door with devices set out before him. He had his hands clasped over his stomach, and a bright smile on his face. When the Atlanteans approached, the man spread his arms wide as though to encompass all the little Ancient gizmos.

" Welcome, my friends, to my home. I am Chief Judge Harl at your service, and have been looking forward to your arrival. I am pleased that you accepted my request for trade. We have not bartered with a people as advanced as we are."

Rodney almost let rip a good snort at that. Advanced usually entailed not using buggies drawn by weird horse wanna-be creatures.

Teyla stepped forward. " Chief Judge Harl. I am Teyla Emmigan. Behind me are Ronon Dex, Major Lorne, and Dr. McKay. Dr. McKay has vast knowledge concerning the tools of the Ancestors. May he look at them as we discuss trade agreements?"

Still beaming as though everything were bright and sunny everyday, Harl nodded. " Of course. Please come forward. Study at your leisure."

Rodney didn't try to hide his annoyance. Too much work. He came forward and eyed each item down the line. There was some kind of a ball, something shaped like a gun, a piece resembling a personal shield but blue rather than green, and items Rodney was already reluctant to touch because he couldn't even compare them to anything. Beside him, Teyla and Harl's conversation was a low, obnoxious hum in Rodney's ear. He heard medicine mentioned, weapons, wraith stunners, the usual currency. Rodney puffed out a breath and picked up the little metal ball. It took concentration that produced a slight throbbing at his temples, but Rodney was able to get the dented contraption to light up around the middle.

He held it up toward Harl. " Hey, what's this one do? Do you know?"

Harl, still in the middle of talking, turned his eyes to Rodney and gaped.

" Ah... um... I am not sure. A-as you know, we are unable to work these devices. It is why we have little use for them."

Rodney looked from Harl, to the ball, then to Harl, irritation flaring like a fire stoked with kerosene. " Soooo... for all we know, I could be holding a bomb."

Harl's jaw worked up and down. " I-I-I suppose..."

Rodney mentally shut the thing off, and couldn't set it down fast enough. " Great, just great. We're playing with toys that could turn out to be grenades. We don't even know what the hell we're getting into!"

Teyla's eyes widened. " Dr. McKay..." she hissed. Ronon glowered at the little scientist.

Rodney couldn't have cared less if Ronon could shoot laser beams out of his eyes. He wasn't putting up with this bull.

" Oh don't give me that. No way in hell are we going to make a blind purchase based on how pretty and shiny these things are. I want to know what they do. In other words, study them." He looked at Harl, knowing he was going to regret this. " If you'll let me, I'd like to study them here, see how much I can find out, maybe do a few test runs. Shouldn't take long since I can tell by looking at a few what they might be capable of." Rodney was really starting to hate himself. He had hoped – prayed – for an in and out mission, not an over night stay. He tried to turn that anger onto Harl, but he couldn't fault the man for not having the Ancient gene.

Harl seemed to relax, though Rodney had not realized he'd gone tense. The older man twitched a smile three times, then nodded ascent. " Of – of course Dr. McKay. It is no trouble. B-But I'm afraid I am unable to entertain you. As the chief Judge, my home doubles as a prison, so you may not feel comfortable staying here. Although there is a nice inn just at the edge of our town. I will even arrange transport to and from my residence."

Transport, now that McKay could allow himself to lighten up a little about. Far be it from him to pass up the sunnier side of the street... Unless it was one of those cramped buggies being offered. Before McKay could reply, Teyla muscled in, probably thinking McKay had been about ready to say something snide. A little presumptuous this time around, but he didn't hold it against her. Rodney was very aware of his lack of self-control over his own tongue.

" Thank you, Chief Judge Harl. We most appreciate it, and we apologize for our suspicion. We have had regrettable encounters with Ancestor tools in the past, so must be cautious."

Harl was back to beaming, a little bigger this time around. " Of course, of course, think nothing of it. I shall leave you now for your studies, although for your own protection, guards must be present. Please do not take that as a sign of mistrust. Prison, remember, though we have yet to ever have a prisoner escape. Some must be brought to me for judgment to be passed, which is why I cannot stay, and I apologize."

With that said, Harl hurried out, and Rodney could have sworn the man was trying to walk fast without it turning into a run. He didn't like that, and apparently neither did Ronon or Lorne, both with furrows in their brows, and Ronon scowling deeper than ever. But no one said anything about it. Rodney turned back to the devices, and sighed wearily.

" Actually, we should have just grabbed one and gone. If Sheppard hadn't gone and blown himself up we'd be out of here..." the words died with a heavy exhale. He felt the stares burning into his back, but didn't give the team the benefit of turning around in all humility and apologizing. Maybe at another time, or in another life, he would have, but he was a little busy trying to get the muscles in his throat to unclench and blink back the burning in his eyes.

It was screwed up. He was pissed at Sheppard – supposed to be pissed – had every right to be pissed. Well, pissed in general, not necessarily at Sheppard only. But Sheppard was at the top of the list, and McKay let him stay there rather than fight it just so he could end up sobbing like a little girl, whining about never having any friends because they always get themselves blown up. Sheppard had gotten himself killed by his own choosing, therefore McKay wasn't going to waste energy pitying the man, or himself. No point. It had all been inevitable. Rodney had always believed Sheppard had harbored a secret death wish. Or was so dense couldn't get it through his head that he wasn't immortal.

Yet he couldn't deny his own words stung – no, stabbed - and right then he put himself up at the top of the list with Sheppard.

McKay grabbed the nearest device – that little ball, like a kids toy – and began looking it over without really seeing it. Feigning busy work, he turned his head just an inch to catch the looks of the rest of his team. Ronon and Lorne – alert and stoic, Ronon a little annoyed but then when wasn't he. Teyla – she wasn't hiding anything, and was looking to the floor in melancholy thought. McKay really wished he were more limber so he could kick himself.

SGA

Kace stayed crouched before Sheppard, and Sheppard remained huddled against the bed, rocking, shivering, twitching, ripping his own mind apart trying to piece it back together. One eye-lid fluttered, blinked, then righted itself.

" Come on, friend Shep," Kace cajoled. " Just a quick look see. That's a nasty gash you got and from the look of the blood creeping around your flanks, I think it's safe to say it hasn't stopped bleeding. Come on, little friend, it's me, Kace. You can trust me. I swore I wouldn't hurt you and when Kace swears, he swears on his own head. You can't beat that."

Sheppard looked up at him, tilting his head to one side, brow creasing, eyes narrowing, mind pushing through sludge and stone walls trying to fathom this man called Kace. The mind scrambler hadn't been applied, because the effort to recall wasn't acting like such an ordeal for the mind-cracked man. But sweat still beaded his forehead, and eventually the effort did increase, an indication that Sheppard's mind had wandered, one thought leading to another, moving too fast for Sheppard to grasp, or too fuzzy and refusing to clear. It wasn't so much memory loss that Sheppard suffered, but a complete inability to control the conscious parts of his own brain. The scrambler, from what Kace was able to glean from Gorek's mind, sent out pulses of energy – like electricity – through the brain, disrupting memory long term and short term, and coherent thought. It jumbled everything together, with even smaller pulses still flitting about Sheppard's skull, continuing the disruption. It wore off, eventually, a very long eventually, and caused less damage than electricity. Although Kace had caught the mental rumor that prolonged use eventually led to either permanent brain damage or suicide.

Sheppard probably wouldn't last much longer for either.

Another side effect was seizures, which Sheppard had suffered twice since Kace's arrival. But today would be Sheppard's lucky day since Gorek had forgone another pulse administration. The only worry was the constant bleeding from that gash.

" Shep, Shep!" Kace snapped his fingers before the man's face. Sheppard was drifting, his struggles turning to pain that twisted his face and had his hand shooting to his head to grab a fistful of spiky hair. The snapping made Sheppard flinch back to the here and now, and trying to push further back into the bed. Kace raised both hands in a placating manner, and inched back a little.

" Whoa, easy, little friend. No harm by me. Come on, Shep, you need to let me check that cut, see if I can't stop it from bleeding. You'll attract vermin. Get sick..."

A clank and a thud had both men snapping their heads to the corridor. Footfalls made Kace stiffen, and Sheppard cringe, unfolding into a crouch of his own with finger tips barely touching the floor and back curved in the posture of something preparing to pounce. Kace turned bodily himself, rising a little, reaching out one hand toward Sheppard. The skinny man was looking a little wild and hell-bent for blood.

" Easy, friend, easy."

Jeers, howls, and cat-calls had erupted, rising to a roar of noise, and when Kace saw the reason for it, he burst out laughing.

" Well looky here, looky here! How ya doin' boss?" Kace rose to his feet as Gorek unlocked the cell and stepped aside for Harl to enter. Sheppard froze, then snapped from his own terrified stupor to go scuttling backward until he hit the wall, where he shrank into a trembling mass of flesh, bone, and dirty clothes, breathing fast like a man who'd been tearing across country at a mad dash.

Kace was shoved aside by Gorek, and kept being shoved until his legs met the bed and he was forced to sit. Harl, wearing a look of mild disgust, lifted the hem of his robes from off the floor to approach Sheppard. Once towering over the terrified man, he snapped his fingers. One of the goons entered, handing Harl a device, which he promptly held out to Sheppard.

" You will activate this, or you will be punished. Do you understand? I will not be humiliated by the likes of you!"

Humiliated. Kace squinted as he bore his gaze into the man's head to take a little peek. Visitors, four, three men, one woman, looking for items, but that was all Kace got when Gorek shifted, blocking Kace's view of Harl. For in depth mind scans to work, a direct visual view of the one being scanned was required. Something about these four people was scaring the crap out of Harl.

Kace could still see Sheppard. The closer Harl brought the device, the further Sheppard shrank back.

" Take it! Take it!" Harl snapped. He reached out, grabbing Sheppard's arm, only to find Sheppard's long fingers curled in a tight fist. Harl tucked the device under one arm and attempted to uncurl the man's fingers. For a twig, the man still had a good amount of strength in him. Harl's attempt had him tearing the flesh of Sheppard's lower palm and upper wrist until blood was drawn. Snarling, conceding to a point, he threw Sheppard's arm down and snapped his fingers. The blond thug smirked, and stalked up to Sheppard. He grabbed the man's hood, hauled him to his knees, and thrust the scrambler to his temple. Sheppard screamed, and it quickly became the only sound in the prison.

The scrambler remained at Sheppard's head for an unhealthy amount of time. Sheppard's eye were wide enough to rip, his back arched until Kace thought it would snap, and his fingers spread stiff as wood. Harl watched the torment; impassive, but smug satisfaction pouring from him like mud. The agony wouldn't stop flowing, and it was making Kace nauseas. Sheppard wouldn't be holding out much longer.

" That is enough!" Harl called. The blond removed the device from Sheppard's head. Sheppard crumpled to the floor, panting, whimpering, and shuddering.

Harl sighed wearily and crouched beside his supposed prize. Kace was disgusted to see the man reach out and gently stroke Sheppard's bloody back. Sheppard flinched, but that movement alone wore him out. He couldn't pounce if he wanted to, and oh how he wanted to.

" Sheppard, Sheppard, Sheppard," Harl sweetly admonished. " You only have yourself to blame for this. I am offering you so much for one mere act. Why must you fight me? Do you think I enjoy hurting you? Do you think I am so cruel as to want this to happen? You are the one in control of fate, my friend. You have the power to end this. All I am asking is one demonstration of what these objects can do, then you can be free."

Kace, realizing his view was clear, dove back into Harl's mind, and gaped at what he saw.

Like hell Sheppard was going free, Kace had discovered that a long time ago. What was sick was that upstairs, right this minute, gathered in the very room Sheppard had been not that long ago, were people who knew Sheppard. It was why Harl was afraid. Sheppard's salvation was a few stair flights away, and he wanted them gone. But not at the expense of losing potential gain. These people were from the floating city, after all, home of the Ancestor's.

Kace looked back bemusedly at Sheppard. Now that explained a lot.

Still stroking Sheppard, Harl held the device out to him. " Please, Sheppard, this one act. It is all I ask. Then you will be free."

Sheppard raised his head on an unsteady neck. Desperation spilled from him like a flood, and his frightened eyes lingered on the device.

Maybe it was a small modicum of defiance Kace couldn't feel, or maybe it was just exhaustion, but Sheppard set his head back on the floor, closing his eyes with a shudder.

Harl's hand stopped on Sheppard's shoulder. The older man's fingers curled until they dug into the younger man's flesh. Sheppard's eyes snapped open, wild with pain, while Harl's face twisted with rage.

" You filthy Lantean!" He snarled in a rage that burst through the cell like an inferno. Harl shoved Sheppard onto his side, rose, and proceeded to kick the skinny man over and over, each kick more vicious than the last. Sheppard didn't have the breath to cry out as the air was continually driven from his lungs.

" You useless, scrawny, filthy Atlantean!" Harl stopped kicking, heaving angered breaths. " What use are you to me! What use are you to anyone!" He dropped back to a crouch, and leaned in toward Sheppard's ear. " Do you want to hear a little secret? Your friends are here. They have come for you, but you will never see them. Ever!" he shrieked, making Sheppard flinch. " They will leave this place, never knowing that you were here, and I will let you rot in this prison until there is nothing left of you but bones! Do you want that? Do you want to never see your friends again? Just activate it! Now!" Harl rose, and gave Sheppard one final kick. Something cracked, but Sheppard remained quiet.

Harl sucked in several breaths, leaned forward, and spat a wad of saliva onto Sheppard's body. " Rot then!" he screamed, turned, and strode furiously from the cell. The blond followed, then a smirking Gorek, who nudged Sheppard before leaving.

When the cell clanged shut, and the footsteps receded, Kace pushed himself from the bed, dropping to his knees beside the motionless form. Kace was pushing it, he knew, but he reached out and touched the man's shoulder.

Sheppard shuddered. He was still alive. Kace didn't ponder the man's fortune. He took advantage of the situation, and began checking him over. Pain in Sheppard's chest, so Kace rolled him enough to feel the area and along the flank, protruding bones making it all the more easier. Definitely cracked ribs, not really broken, but Kace was sure pretty close. He rolled Sheppard again, this time forward, and lifted the shirt to look at the gash. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but it was still moist. Not much to be done about it now. It would dry, scab over, and become another scar a part of the collection cross-hatching Sheppard's back.

Kace lowered the shirt back into place, and remained kneeling by the man who by all rights should have been dead by now – or at least subjected to Harl's every whim. The purpose of the brain scrambler was to subdue, bringing the one being scrambled to the level of a mindless drone to react on every minor command. However long Sheppard had been here – yet to be discovered in any mind Kace had time to scan – three days alone should have had the skinny man groveling and begging for release. A mind scan wasn't needed to tell Kace that Sheppard's brain was made of sterner stuff, and it made Kace shake his head in amused wonder. The longer he remained penned up with this man, the more he discovered, the more he wanted to know. Harl could waste Sheppard's body and his mind, it didn't take away who he was – whoever he was. Someone strong, no doubts there, even as he was now.

Kace had never been one to judge a man's fate, but what was happening to Sheppard wasn't right on more levels than simply cruelty. Kace was getting the strong impression that Sheppard was far from deserving this abuse. Kace liked the guy, he really did.

Since Kace was certain Sheppard had no power to stand even with Kace's help, he carefully gathered the broken man, lifted him, and carried him like a child to lay him on the bed. Kace found it disconcerting on the man's behalf that it didn't take much effort. Sheppard didn't react except to moan and suck in a hissing breath of pain. Kace made certain Sheppard rolled on his good side where he could curl into him self as his only defense against that pain. Once Sheppard was settled, Kace went to his own bed, and removed the straightened piece of wire. He went back to Sheppard, and placed the wire in Sheppard's limp hand, following up with a pat to the bony shoulder.

Kace was probably no better than Gorek and Harl, but he had one constant going for him. He knew they wouldn't kill Sheppard. They needed him, he wasn't expendable. Kace was. Besides, unlike the two mutual enemies, Kace planned to make it up to Sheppard – if it could be pulled off.

SGA

A/N: I will attempt to double the updates, but if I catch up with myself then it's back to once a week. I'm still trying to figure out a better ending, so if people want to suggest things, that's fine. You don't need to know the whole story to make suggestions, it's still all open for change.