Chapter II:
The Time Lord's words rang through the empty prison. The Lanteans looked at each other in confusion but before they could ask spine chilling growls and roars traveled down to the dungeons, stealing all their attentions.
"It's been awhile since I've heard that sound," the Doctor commented absently, his deep brown eyes still glued on the stone ceiling.
"And, um, what was that sound?" Rodney asked with worry in his blue eyes.
"It's a sound of victory, a chant if you will," the Doctor explained, still keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling. The sound of several creatures moving quickly on the floor above them pounded against the stone roof and the Doctor's thin eyebrows furrowed.
"What do they have to be victorious about?" John asked almost pouting.
"They have us, isn't that enough?" Rodney did pout.
"No," Ronon answered, finally jumping into the conversation. "This race is proud and would not consider capturing a few beings from lesser races to be a victory."
"Whoa, whoa, lesser?" Rodney objected offended.
"Your friend is right," the Doctor replied, not listening to the physicist's tone. "To the Gabrihaths, humans are a far lesser race. They may act and dress primitive but they consider themselves to be superior to most in the universe. I'm not sure what they have done that makes them think they are or will be victorious but I can assure you, it's not us."
Heavy footfalls stalled further conversation. Instinctively the Colonel stepped in front of his team hoping that the things, the Gabrihaths or whatever they are, would choose to do whatever to him instead of any of his friends. He struggled to keep his aura of confidence when he felt confusion creep into his spine as the Doctor not only stepped in front of the girl, Rose, but he put his body in the way of everyone in the cell.
"Good evening gentlemen," he greeted warmly, "I don't suppose my friends and I could get some water or food?"
The head guard stepped into the cell and swiftly backhanded the Doctor in the same place as his reddish purple bruise.
"Was that really necessary?" John asked heatedly when the Doctor let out a deep groan of pain. Behind him Ronon growled deeply in his chest at the unnecessary violence.
Sure they didn't know this man who had obviously already received a small beating from these beings, but that didn't mean that they were going to stand aside and allow him to be beaten repeatedly either.
The guard stared at John with an expression of what they all assumed was shock on his face. He bent down to glare at the human beneath him. "How is it you speak our language?" he demanded suspiciously.
"That's my fault sorry," the Doctor butted in. This time the other side of his face took the punishment for his interference as a gigantic, partially clawed hand backhanded him again.
"You are not to speak until spoken to. Is that understood filthy human?!" the guard demanded furiously.
"Oi! Who are you calling human?" the Doctor questioned, affronted by the title. He grimaced as his head gave a furious pound from the blows he'd received. "And if you don't mind I'm getting a little tired of you lot hitting me," he added almost petulantly. "There are other ways to get what you want, you know? Asking for one. Offering an incentive, for another. I find bananas are good for that."
Another backhand silenced him, sending him to the floor of the prison. He cried out as he landed on his right side then rolled onto his back, holding onto his wrist. His face was tightened with pain and his teeth were clenched, but when he opened his eyes there was nothing but anger in them.
"That's enough," Ronon growled menacingly at the creature which was easily two feet taller than him and twice as strong. He stepped forward as though to protect the Doctor from another blow.
"Problems Koltar?" a cold, guttural voice asked from just outside the cell.
The Gabrihath straightened up immediately at the sound of the other creature's voice and bowed its head. "No my lord Kliptock. These things were being taught the rules."
"It seems as if they are being obstinate in being taught, are they not?" Koltar's chest rumbled in what everyone assumed was a chuckle but remained silent. Kliptock looked around the cell, a bored expression covering his face.
"It is no matter," he dismissed almost regally, "bring the two skinny ones. We have need of them."
John and the Doctor looked at their companions with expressions of 'I'm not that skinny!'on their faces. Their friends returned their indignant looks with expressions that relayed an eye roll, bringing brief smiles to the two leaders' faces.
Kliptock walked into the cell and grabbed the Doctor's deformed wrist. With a swift flick of his hand, the newly displaced bones snapped into place causing the Time Lord to shout in surprise and agony.
"You should be more careful with the prisoners Koltar," the royal lectured. He reached out and grabbed the Doctor's chin, turning his head from side to side, ignoring the way the Doctor's eyes glared at him, so he could see the bruises, "they do not want them damaged until it becomes necessary."
"Apologies my lord," Koltar answered sounding chastised though John knew that he was anything but sorry. He'd seen the way the Gabrihath had enjoyed the pain he'd inflicted and it made him sick.
Kliptock returned his attention to his two most important prisoners. "You will follow and you will not attempt to cause trouble," he instructed evenly, "otherwise it is your friends who will suffer the consequences."
As the leader spoke, several more guards, each look equally as menacing as Koltar, stepped into the cell, surrounding the rest of the remaining party. It was obvious that they were meant to reinforce the threat that Kliptock had just made, thus ensuring that the Doctor and the Colonel did as they were told.
Pain pulsed through the Doctor's arm, making his fingers tingle with pins and needles. However, he knew that it would not last long and that it would calm to a dull enough ache to be ignored and so he chose to block it out until then. Besides, he knew the race they were going to meet and he didn't really relish showing them any outward signs of pain. Judging by the dark look on the Colonel's face, he knew as well.
Holding his arm against his torso, the Doctor straightened up and plastered a smile on his face. "Why didn't you say so? Like I told your friend over there, all you had to do was ask. You should try it next time."
Koltar stepped forward to give him another love slap but the royal stopped him. "No, it's alright." He studied the Doctor for a few moments before smiling, "I think we're going to have fun with you."
"Weell," the Doctor answered dragging out the syllable longer than he actually needed to, "I'm not one to brag but I am great at parties. Have you ever had a banana daiquiri? I created one in seventeenth century France and I must say that it was pretty good."
Kliptock did the Gabrihath equivalent of an eye roll then turned around and started walking away. After throwing encouraging smiles to their friends both John and the Doctor followed, walking side by side.
Each step jolted his broken wrist and the Doctor found himself unable to stop the grimaces that kept crossing his face.
"So, how is it I can understand what they're saying?" John asked casually, his hazel eyes wandering around to his surroundings. The hall they were walking down was non-descript but that didn't stop him from trying to find something that would tell him where they'd been taken in comparison to the jumper.
"My ship translates all known alien languages. It even does French! Mickey had a hard time wrapping his mind around that one."
"Who?"
"Mickey or Mickey the Idiot if you like. He was Rose's boyfriend for a long time but they broke up a bit ago. We got stuck in a parallel universe for a little while and he decided to stay behind for his Grandmother. Good lad; he's currently fighting off Cybermen," the Doctor rattled.
John was about to ask what the heck a Cyberman was but they were led into an oval room that soon stole his attention.
The corners had been darkened but a bright light illuminated two large stone circles in the middle, reminding John of the pews in an old fashioned courtroom. Chains lay limply on top of the stone but even still, the Colonel could see the dried blood that coated them; it made him cringe in revulsion.
"I believe that's where we're supposed to wait," the Doctor piped up cheerily and John threw an annoyed expression at his newest companion. How could the man be so happy given the direction their circumstances were heading?
"Indeed it is," Kliptock answered. He waited until both men stood squarely in the center of the stone before he snapped his fingers and wrist cuffs snapped loudly around their arms, pulling them above their heads and holding them in place while a wraith drone came and attached the ankle cuffs.
"You know, they aren't really my style," John quipped dryly. The Doctor smiled in appreciation of his humor but kept his laugh hidden in his chest.
"Colonel Sheppard," a cold, slithering voice greeted, "we meet again."
"What, no kneeling?" John asked not bothering to give the interrogator a reply.
A Wraith Queen with long, flowing silver hair stepped out of the shadows. The bright light shimmered as it shone on the waist length mane that seemed almost weightless upon the translucent shoulders which were laid bare by her "off the shoulder" black dress and cloak.
The air sparkled with hostility, but both men ignored it as the Wraith focused her attention on the Doctor.
"New stock," she said with a turn of her head as she eyed him curiously. The air went from hostile to suffocating as she approached, a hungry look in her eyes. The Doctor showed no reaction to her, somehow remaining impassive and stone-faced.
"No, dear sister, he is not stock," another female voice cooed. A second wraith Queen stepped out of the shadows, grinning wolfishly at both John and the Doctor. Unlike the other queens, this one had ebony-black hair ending at just below her shoulders; small wisps of white streaked the long strands, making John think that she was younger than the rest. It was just as thick as the others' but there was a certain shine to it that even those with silver hair lacked. Given her diet, she was just as thin as the other wraith Queens but instead of the black leather dresses, she wore a royal red dress, slinky and doing its job of accenting her figure quite well. Her skin was something else entirely; instead of the translucent gray of all the rest of the wraith, this one had a brown hint to her skin, almost like a constant tan, that helped compliment her red dress. Unlike the others which had soulless eyes, this queen had very expressive green eyes that made her appear that much more human.
To his right, John heard the Doctor gasp in surprise. It sounded almost foreign to John's ears and he wondered if the Doctor had ever made that sound in his life. When he looked over at the thin man he was shocked to see nothing but sorrow and remorse in every molecule of the man's being. Clearly there was more to this wraith than meets the eye and the Doctor knew what it was.
"Oh, so you do remember me Doctor," the second queen remarked when she noticed his reaction. "I was worried that with the change, you wouldn't know who I am."
"Well, now that we're all acquainted," John quipped, not liking that he was out of the loop.
"My apologies Colonel Sheppard," the peculiar queen said, almost managing to sound like she meant it. "My name is Amara. I know it's not customary for us to give our designations, but with the Doctor here I suppose it will come out sooner or later."
"And, you two know each other," John said, still trying to piece together what was going on.
"Once upon a time, yes."
"You sound very-"
"-human?" the queen answered with an almost sinister smile. "That's because I was one, a long time ago. Do you remember Doctor? You meant to drop me in the far Beltzian system. Well, you were off by a few hundred light years and instead I ended up in the Pegasus galaxy, stranded on a planet. I suppose I should thank you because at least the planet could sustain life, wild or otherwise, but there were also these little spider-like bugs as well."
John gave an involuntary shiver at the mention of the Iratus bug. His encounter with one had been over and done with for a couple years now but each time he thought about it, shivers of revulsion swept through his limbs.
The queen turned her head, one pencil-thin eyebrow raised. "I see you've had the 'pleasure' of encountering one Colonel," she remarked, making sure to put a sarcastic note on the word 'pleasure'. "Yes. We'd heard about that; we'd actually hoped it would have killed you off for us but no such thing happened. Instead, you managed to kill it. Consider yourself lucky. Those that are capable of dying quickly do not normally last once in the clutches of the creature but those of us that are able to survive centuries," her lip curled in distaste, "are not so fortunate." She swept a frail hand over her form, "This is what happens. Much like your Doctor Beckett hypothesized."
"I am so sorry," the Doctor apologized with eyes so full of sorrow it made John feel pity for him.
"You always are," the queen returned, clearly not accepting his apology. "Yet, you never once thought to stop and check on me, or any of your companions do you? No, you just drop us off where you like then leave, never giving us a second thought."
The Doctor kept a steady gaze, knowing that she was right. He hated to admit it but that was exactly what he had done to her and continued to do to those that chose to travel with him. None of his other incarnations had tried to go back and check on his companions, none. And until now he hadn't had to worry about meeting them again. However, this version knew that, if or when he lost Rose as a companion, he would do anything to make sure he could check up on her; whether it be in her past or her future.
"Ah, but this one is different, isn't she?" the queen asked as though she had read his mind. There was so much glee in her tone that it made both John and the Doctor uneasy. "Well, I may just have to visit with her, you don't mind do you Doctor?"
"Leave her out of this," the Doctor answered with enough threat in his voice John had to fight against his instincts to shy away. It baffled the Colonel to see such a drastic change take place. It was as though the previous genial and mournful man had been nothing more than a hologram and here stood the true Doctor. If that was the case, John thought that just maybe the true Doctor was more of a threat to him and everyone in the Pegasus Galaxy than the wraith were.
Chains rattled against one another and the stone slab the Doctor stood shook a little as he strained against his bindings. Thin and wiry though he may be, John could see that he was no wimp. The chains rattled and some rock from the ceiling came falling down the more he pulled.
"Oh relax," the queen scoffed. "Did you think I'd honestly talk to her without you?"
"If you touch one hair on her head, I swear I'll-"
"-You'll what? Kill me? Oh Doctor, you and I both know you wouldn't do that."
No, but I would, John thought though he didn't say it. As a principle, the pilot was against the taking of life but with the wraith he often made an exception. Wraith weren't to be reasoned with; they couldn't be trusted either. To them it was you-die-because-I'm-hungry and that was that. They never spared anyone and therefore the Lanteans didn't spare them. Although, they'd never come across a wraith so human before either so with this one, he wasn't quite sure.
"No, I wouldn't kill you," the Doctor replied in a low, coarse voice. "I'd bury you in a timeless prison, allowing you to live forever without actually existing."
The queen walked up to him with no more warmth or teasing in her eyes. "I believe you already have," she said. She didn't give the man time to respond before she landed a backhand so hard on his face that John thought he'd heard the man's cheekbone break.
After taking a minute to compose herself, the queen stepped back to allow her 'sister' to have access to the both of them.
"Now then, sister, I believe there were some tests you wanted to perform?"
The other, more wraith-like queen sneered at the more dominant one then hissed at the two men. She slunk forward, her form swaying slightly with her hips as she walked. One, long-nailed finger traced idly down John's face, drawing blood as it played.
"I have heard you are strong enough to withstand even a queen's questioning," she began, her finger moving from his face down to his neck then his collar bone. "But are you strong enough to handle two?"
Amara stepped forward with a malicious smile in her eyes, "Let the tests begin."
TBC