Blood Rituals – Chosen
by Angel Ruse

Sheppard, Beckett, McKay and Teyla gate to a world with a deadly secret—will Sheppard and Beckett become the victims of genetic exploitation? Sheppard and Carson whump. No Slash.

The Rose of Ienarna was delicate. The black petals could be torn from their high seat with a mere brush of the hand. Even the thorns were tame on this little monster. Rodney ripped a petal off the sample he was holding and crumbled it between his fingers. Gray dust like ashes fluttered away from his unkind grasp. He glared at the remaining petals and murmured, "Roses are always trouble."

He certainly was no biologist, geneticist or even a palatable nurse. Yet in many ways those things were not so dissimilar from chemistry and engineering. And after having the current problem explained and even being shown the chemicals react to one another, he now had to concede that he could see no way for them to solve the problem this little rose was causing with their current assets.

For all its weaknesses it was a potent little flower. Generally speaking the rose's properties weren't very complex. Once ground the tiny little particles of slate dust became active. If one ingested the ash of the petals, a certain chemical released by the flower upon crushing would find its way into one's bloodstream. The particles naturally sought certain genetic markers for what purpose neither Rodney nor the Khon'Suans knew. All they did know was that it made it pretty darn handy to create a drug that would find these genetic markers and highlight them.

The Khon'Suan nobles were addicted to the genetic materials. They had their own drug treatments, which were administered with each birth of a new bloodthirsty aristocrat. They were treated to absorb the genetic materials, leach strength and other positive qualities and assimilate it into their own genetic coding. It was really rather brilliant, and really rather disgusting. Rodney frowned at the offensive flower in his hand. Because of this flower a portion of Khon'Su's newborn babies suckled blood as their first meal, while the others suckled fear of their future.

Teyla sat down across from him, her eyes following the descent of the ashes as Rodney sprinkled the floor. "I hate roses," he told her for no particular reason.

"Colonel Sheppard told me that the women of Earth love them," she countered thoughtfully.

"They get on my nerves." McKay looked at her. "A couple years ago I had this date with this amazing woman. Long legs that could kill, hair as golden as the sun, and breasts that…" he trailed off, seeing he was rapidly losing his audience. "Anyway, I showed up at her door with a dozen pink roses. When she answered I handed them to her right away and she squealed, tossed 'em back at me and within five minutes had so many hives I could barely recognize her. Totally ruined me on giving roses."

"Did you see her again?" Ronon asked him from the chair he was seated in.

Rodney shook his head mournfully. "No. I could never get that image out of my mind after that, and after commenting on that her slashing my tires sort of cinched it."

"Hmm," Minal hummed. She was sitting at her desk looking pale at the news Syren had delivered about the catalyst. Everything had been riding on this new counter-drug. All their current tries could not neutralize the effects of the Rose of Ienarna for a long enough time to make it useful and their final test had proven unsuccessful. Now they were back at square one and Rodney knew that had to smart.

Iilara looked up at the Lanteans. "As charming as that story was, Dr. McKay, I think it's time for us to concentrate our efforts elsewhere. If we had time perhaps we could do something to neutralize the catalyst, but we have tarried too long already. Indaali will not wait forever." She gripped a crossbow lying beside her and started to load it. "I will warn you there will be danger."

"I'm up for that," Ronon replied, eager to be moving after waiting uselessly for so long. Maybe it wasn't Wraith he would be fighting, but it was action.

Which got Rodney thinking. He snapped his fingers. "Wait, wait, wait. Why fight? What about Teyla's Wraith gene? Do you think they would respond to that? Think it would give us an edge or some authority?"

Minal's eyes were wide. "You are one of the Chosen?" she whispered, looking at the Athosian.

Before Teyla could respond Ronon lifted his gun. "Maybe."

"Ronon," Teyla admonished softly, her brow knit as she approached the security chief. Minal Iilara had her eyes averted. "What is wrong?"

"You are a child of the Wraith. One of the Chosen," Minal replied gently, only sparing the briefest of glances. "I have never met one."

The Athosian shook her head. "It does not mean anything other than different genes, Minal. I am no different than you."

"No, no," Minal breathed shaking her head. "You are…"

"Look, Minal," Rodney interjected a bit impatiently, and for once Teyla was grateful for that particular aspect of his personality, "Right now our little Chosen One wants her friends to be rescued. Would Indaali react towards Teyla the same way?"

The security chief looked at him. "Maybe. If his lust for blood has not blinded him already. There is only one way to find out. The Winnowing Grove is an hour's walk from here and there are creatures."

Rodney blinked. "Creatures? What sort of creatures?"

"The deadly kind," she responding simply.

McKay waved his arm and looked heavenward. "Thank you so much for your brutal honesty. Don't even bother to soften the reality of it just a tiny bit, you know, for the sake of making this mission seem sane."

Ronon smiled quietly, checking his gun. "Maybe they're furry and cute."

"Great," the physicist huffed. "All I need is Peter Cottontail coming at me with a chainsaw. Thank you, but no. If you guys will excuse me a minute?" He didn't even wait before disappearing from view.

Teyla put her hand on Minal's hand, noticing it was trembling. The black-eyed woman turned her head towards the Athosian. "Perhaps we can help you," Teyla told her gently. "Dr. Beckett is a brilliant healer. He may be able to take the steps that your Dr. Syren cannot."

Iilara smiled wanly, looking hopeful. "If that is so then I will give you my life, Chosen."

"I would never ask it," the Athosian replied softly. "You are affected deeply by the things your government does, but no one else in the senate building seemed troubled."

The Khon'Suan woman exhaled. "No one there is in danger of losing their lives or their loved ones. To work in the government one must be born into a noble family. Since all the nobility partake of the blood rituals they have nothing to lose and everything to gain."

"And you are…"

"Yes," Minal replied wryly, looking directly into Teyla's curious eyes. "I am a noble. I have partaken of the blood. I didn't know any better until I befriended one of the peasants in the village. I would take Dr. Syren to the village, guard him as he practiced medicine on those less than ourselves." She said that with a bitter laugh. "They killed her, my friend. And then Syren started working on a way to wean us off the blood addiction. That was the first step in my transformation from loyal guardian to rebel."

Teyla again put her hand on the other woman's. "Then perhaps you are the first in a long line of people that can change. Do not give up."

Iilara smiled a genuine smile. "I won't."

Chimes tinkling in the rainfall at a nearby window awakened Colonel Sheppard from the sleep he had not even been aware he had fallen into. And man, was it cold or what? He shivered in the cool air and attempted to find a warmer position. Except his arms wouldn't move. Sheppard opened his eyes and saw that he was no longer in the lab. His arms were strapped to a cold, metal table that was reclined so that his head was higher than his feet, and his mouth was bound shut with something that reminded him of duct tape with a bit thrust between his teeth. He had a bad feeling about this.

The room itself was dark. Sparsely placed glow lamps flickered in the shadows, revealing stone pillars with carvings. He definitely had a bad feeling about this. The atmosphere didn't say comfort. He was almost afraid to examine his other surroundings.

Yet a noise from the floor beckoned his attention. Swallowing uncomfortably, he drew his gaze down and not far away saw a crumpled form sprawled on the floor. His stomach seized at as Iryll watched him through hopeless eyes. She wasn't dead. Her eyes would blink now and then, her chest would rise and fall. But neither did she appear alive in any emotional sense of the word. Her wrists bled on the stone floor, on her dress and skin. He could see symbols carved into her collarbone. It filled him with disgust. She was so young. So unbelievably young.

Two men broke the horrid silence, though just barely. They entered from a great door on the other side of the room, walking on slipper-shod feet, their eyes blindfolded and heads bowed. How they could see he did not know, but they found Iryll without error. Each took a hand and dragged her as if she were a mere rag doll. John yelled through his gag, but no one paid him any mind. He wanted to kick the bed he was stretched out on, but his legs were shackled tightly down.

He let out an expansive breath. It was so hard to breathe without access to his mouth. It was like claustrophobia and the more he thought about it the more intense his discomfort became. Sheppard stretched his fingers, but he knew he couldn't do anything.

Another cloaked figure entered the room. Atius. He did not wear the blindfold, but he walked quietly as the two priestly-figures had done. When the Khon'Suan doctor looked into his face John glared with all the rage he felt inside. If he could, if he had the chance, he swore to himself he would kill this man for his monstrous science.

As it was, he could do nothing as Atius bowed his head and whispered prayers to the Wraith. Sheppard would have liked to tell the scientist exactly what his prayers would get him from the Wraith. Not that any of these sick-minded strangers would listen.

Then Atius stopped and looked up. From a pocket in his robe he removed a small case and from that a needle. John tensed. It was filled with black catalyst. Maybe they were just going to kill him and get it over with. Like Carson. He closed his eyes a moment, then pulled himself out of it. No. Carson wasn't dead. He wouldn't believe that.

He groaned as the needle penetrated his arm. The liquid went in slowly as if Atius savored each moment of his discomfort. Within his flesh the tissue surrounding his veins warmed, and the feeling spread quickly as his bloodstream assimilated the dark drug. Sheppard tensed.

And then the great doors opened once more. Indaali entered, changed from his state gray to deepest crimson. Atius pulled the needle from his arm, opened Sheppard's shirt, and stepped aside for his leader to take his place at the Lantean's side. The Colonel held his chin high in defiance even though he knew something was about to happen that he probably wouldn't thank his new enemies for.

"It wasn't always this way," the Minister said, gazing down upon his prey. Thunder shook the walls. Despite the chill in the room Sheppard was hot, sweat moistening his clothes and hair. "No one on the outside knows how this government works. When I began training to be a politician it was to help my people. And as one climbs in rank they learn the secrets of Khon'Su. The terrible choices one must make."

John grunted, showing his distaste on his expression if not in words. Whatever choices Indaali had made when he was younger, Sheppard was certain now he was quite happy with his so-called duties. The light in his eyes was unmistakable. Indaali wanted blood. He craved it.

"The Wraith are coming," he continued softly. "The beacon at the gate is lit, signifying their wakefulness and eagerness to feed. I don't have time to drink from you properly, over a period of months. So I will take all of your blood this night." John squirmed uncomfortably.

The Minister moved to a nearby stone table. He reached down into the center and removed a long dagger that Sheppard hadn't even known was there, buried in a recess in rock surface. He shifted as the Khon'Suan returned to his side, bowing his head.

"May the Wraith find strength in your blood," he whispered, then lifted the knife.

Sheppard moaned hard into his gag as the blade sliced along his collar. Saying nothing, Indaali traced his flesh with a reverent expression. Blood was life. Blood was everything to these strangers. It slipped down his skin like hot rain. The Colonel's chest heaved with every ragged breath he took as Indaali cut him, then moved to the other side. It was barbaric and invasive. Sheppard could feel his fingertips start to tingle from the strain of trying to pull his arms free.

His handiwork complete, Indaali stepped back and looked at the fouled blade. "May you bleed true for the Wraith and for their servant," he finished the prayer, then flicked the blood off the dagger onto the stone table. John watched the drops sink into the paths of other rivers of blood from countless other victims over the centuries.

Atius approached then, holding within his hand a crystal vial. He pressed the opening along Sheppard's bare skin and started collecting his life's blood for whatever sick purposes.

McKay, where the hell are you? he thought urgently. I'm going way, way past worried.

A/N: Thanks to all my lovely new friends! And can I say this? I HATE being cold+curses Jack Frost+

Email: angelruseATgmailDOTcom
Archive: Go for it.
Disclaimer: Don't own the fine hineys of Shep or Beckett. Don't mean I can't imagine I do.