EIGHT

"You bring me luck." Burnon said with the smirking smile she wanted to slap off his face as he stepped up beside the bed.

"Goodie for me." Jen mumbled, refusing to look at him, choosing instead to concentrate on checking the patient. Sometime in the last few hours his fever had broken, but he was still unconscious.

"He will live?"

"His fever's down and the antibiotics seem to be working, but I can't be sure of anything without the proper equipment."

"Good. You live another day."

"Who are you, the Dread Pirate Roberts?" Jen frowned, immediately liking the man to a character in one of her favorite movies. Burnon raised his eyebrow but didn't answer.

"Look. I can't do anything more for him if you insist on keeping him here. He could live, he could die. But if you don't let me get him to a real facility, I can't guarantee his safety." Jen waved her hands in the air, exasperation and exhaustion getting the better of her common sense. "I know, I know. He dies, I die."

Burnon laughed and clapped her on the injured shoulder. Then he leaned forward, his face sober. "Then we understand each other, doctor."

Jen winced when he squeezed her shoulder before letting go. His use of the word Doctor didn't get past her.

"You called me Doctor."

He nodded. "What this unintelligent planet lacks in medical technology, it makes up for in eager men willing to further my cause." He waved his hand around the room.

"You mean men you can get hurt or killed so they can steal for you." Jen muttered.

Burnon laughed. "You're smart. I like that. Maybe I'll keep you around."

"What?" Jen stuttered.

"Take her back." He called over his shoulder. Mr. WWF stepped into the room and nodded at his boss.

"My friends will be coming for me." She blurted out.

"The soldier and the scientist?" He laughed. "Let them come. They won't get far, I'll just kill them like the others.

Jen felt a wave of relief course through her body. He'd all but admitted she was still on the same planet! They'd find her soon, she was sure of it.

"Should you be thinking of escape…" he gave her a cold smile. "My men have disabled the Stargate." With a smile he turned and left, leaving Jen alone with the wrestler.

"My men," she mimicked, "will fix it." Knowing for all his vocalization, nothing could get past Rodney McKay.

The wrestler stepped forward.

"All right, all ready." She muttered, grabbing the blanket off the floor and wrapping it around her shoulders. If she was going to be stuffed in a cave, she may as well be warm. The wrestler took her arm – good one this time – and pulled her forward. With a longing look at her knapsack and the pocket with the power bars, she let herself be yanked out of the room.

As they walked back through the cafeteria – dining area – or whatever she should call it, the half a dozen men seated about the tables stared openly. A few even leered. She wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear so she kept her eyes on the archway ahead.

When they had to pause and step aside to let a small group of boisterous men through, Jen couldn't help but overhear their conversation. Each man was blatantly arguing over whose turn it was to keep the gate key.

Gate key? As in Stargate? Was that how they'd disabled it?

The tallest man was holding a long silver object over the head of another man, which resulted in a jumping match that soon turned into a scuffle, then developed into an all out fist fight. This brought cheers and verbal goading from the men who were eating, and it digressed from there.

Jen rolled her eyes. Men. The same no matter what planet you were on. It was always about the fighting.

Warily, she turned and sat heavily in an empty chair, pulling the blanket tightly around her shoulders.

The wrestler stepped in to break up the scuffle. Jen saw a flash of silver as someone's boot kicked the object of their battle spinning across the floor. It skidded to a stop under the chair beside her.

She looked up quickly to see if anyone noticed.

They hadn't.

Pretending to cough she bent quickly and snatched it up. The stone felt cool in her palm. Without looking she jammed the cold crystal up her sleeve. Tugging the blanket tightly around her shoulders she watched the scuffle, hoping no one saw, no one noticed. She wasn't sure what a gate key was, but if they were fighting over it, it had to be important.

Her head snapped up when the door to the cell rattled. Startled, she looked around, her half sleeping mind grasping for details. Then reality came back and she scrambled to her feet. Her body protested the position she'd fallen asleep in, but adrenaline kicked in again, pushing everything else out of the way.

Mr. WWF unlocked the door and held it wide, his hand extended, indicating she was to step out of the cell.

Jen walked forward, wondering what was wrong now. Had her patient taken a turn for the worse? She tried not to think about it.

He took her back to the boy's room where Burnon was in a heated argument with two men she recognized from the group who'd started the scuffle in the dining area. Ignoring the raised voices, she moved to check on the boy, whose status hadn't changed.

"What do you mean you lost the gate key?" Burnon's voice was sharp and steady.

Jen subconsciously stiffened, clutching her wrist where the long narrow crystal still lay pressed against the inside of her forearm. Realizing what she was doing, she allowed her arms to relax and busied herself with double checking the boy's vitals.

The two men cowered back stuttering excuses. The taller was the one she'd seen taunting the others with the crystal. He looked terrified. The second man with a much shorter in stature, looked like he was about to burst into tears as they both tried to make their case for why they'd lost the object.

"Enough!" Burnon shouted. He turned towards the soldier who'd escorted the two men into the room. With a barely perceptible nod the soldier accepted his orders and raised his gun. Jen jumped and clapped her hands over her mouth to cover the escaping scream as she watched the two men shot down.

Rushing over she dropped to her knees, checking both men but her trembling fingers already knew the answer. They were both dead. She looked up at their executioner, whose face remained expressionless.

"Have someone clean up this mess." Burnon ordered.

"You killed them." She whispered.

Burnon pursed his lips. "They disappointed me. I thought you might like reassurance of what happens to those who disobey me."

Two soldiers entered the room, accompanied by several of the farmers. The bodies were quickly removed and Jen could no longer watch the pale faces of the farmers as they were made to carry out the lifeless corpses of their friends.

She turned away.