Disclaimer - I do not own SGA or its' characters, nor am I making a profit from this.

A/N - Thank you for all the kind reviews.


McKay was worried. He looked back and forth between Sheppard and Ronon. Normally the men recovered much quicker than this. Whatever they'd been drugged with had a hell of a kick, not something Rodney felt had to do completely with the local town folk.

The physicist did what he always did when nervous, he spoke. "Okay, so I don't know about anyone else. Last thing I remember is the tavern. We were supposed to meet with Aaron was it? I'm guessing that was a ruse," he rambled.

"I think you are correct, Rodney," Teyla sluggishly replied, the effects of the drug still showing.

"I saw that man earlier, he stunned me. Came in the tavern after you were all unconscious," Ronon gasped as he tried to make himself more comfortable, the chains restricting his movement.

"Ronon, did he say anything... why they've done this?" Sheppard hissed, his head still reeling from the drug.

"Not really, just told me to go down... give in," Ronon replied his breathing irregular as he tried to control the need to vomit.

"Don't suppose this is just some gross case of mistaken identity?" McKay moaned as he slouched back down the wall, his thirst returning.

"I seriously doubt it, Rodney?" Sheppard remarked, his head still causing him pain.


The heavy door opened once more, this time it was not the ordinary man who entered but a tall man, dressed similarly but the cloth he wore was of a higher quality. He stood tall and thin, his features were angled, prominent. The thin man walked over to Ronon, he looked at him before reaching out a hand to grab hold of the ex-Runners face. He turned Ronon's head sideways, right, then to the left so he could get a better look at the Satedan. He crouched so they were face to face.

"If you cause a problem, I'll have my men make it so you remember never to do so again. My men are good, Dex. It will hurt and not always just you," the thin man grinned turning his head to cackle at Teyla before turning back making sure the large man understood the threat.

The man stood, he was pretty sure the Satedan would behave after threatening the woman. Satedan's and their sense of honor, what fools!

"There is some time before my Master arrives. He's left it to me to decide how to get what information I can out of you before he tries. Believe me when I say, you'll want to do this my way," the thin man chuckled as he walked back toward the heavy door.

"Bring the one who claims to be their leader," the thin man ordered as he exited the cell.

Silas Ripley unshackled Sheppard before he and another man each grabbed an arm and bodily dragged the Colonel out of the cell.


As Sheppard hit the corridor separating the cells he instantly winced pulling his head down the bright daylight was painful and temporarily blinded him. The two men dragged Sheppard down the corridor before stopping at a small room annexed off of the corridor. They pulled him into the room, it was stark, the light not as bright as in the corridor.

The room was furnished with a single chair placed in the middle of the room. There was a long table running across the far wall. A small window allowed for a bright shaft of light to fall onto the floor before the chair. Dust motes scattered about the air danced within the exposed light.

They finally dumped Sheppard onto the rigid chair. He tried to make himself comfortable. Silas approached and tied him to the chair, his grin never once leaving his face.

The tall, thin man entered the room his face expressing a detached manner that Sheppard was sure didn't bode well for him.

"Sheppard. Yes we know your names. Please don't ask how or why for that would be tedious. Just accept it and let's move on. Now, I want the location of Atlantis, yes, we know you've changed planets. We want your new location, unfortunately I can't let you go or give your friends any medical help until you do," the thin man answered.

"Can't help you, I'm terrible with things like names and addresses. Can't begin to tell you what the zip code is," Sheppard joked.

The thin man or Berik Duras as he was known, hissed at Sheppard's comments, his patience he realized would be more than tested by these people. Berik had been deliberately chosen by his Master to interrogate the Lantean's until his arrival, his Master had always seen Duras as talented. He'd been instructed that while he could use his talents to extract the information he wanted Duras was under strict orders not to go too far. His Master had plans for the Lantean's himself. He walked over to the table. It held a variety of goodies none of which any man or woman would seriously want to be exposed to.

"Colonel we can discuss this matter like gentlemen or I can torture you, which is it to be?" Duras asked.

"Well, seeing how I don't want you going to extremes on my behalf, how 'bout we just catch up?" Sheppard breathlessly remarked.

Berik Duras reached for the dark colored gloves on the table. He slipped his hands into the gloves flexing his hands against the material ensuring he had plenty of movement. He walked back to the chair holding Sheppard; he paced back and forth behind the man.

"One more chance Sheppard. Give me the address and it'll go a long way to saving your friend's lives," Duras threatened, placing his strong bony hands on either side of Sheppard's head.

"It's at the end of the yellow brick road, ask Elton," Sheppard mocked.

Berik didn't understand what Sheppard meant but hearing the man laugh at his own comment angered him, the Lantean was mocking him he was sure. He felt his hackles rise; Duras walked around the Colonel stopping in front of him. The offended man raised his arm and pulled it back before slamming his fist into Sheppard's face catching him squarely on the jaw.

Sheppard's head was instantly thrown sideways, the shock of the pain causing him to groan at the impact causing any of the remaining effects of the drugs to disappear.

"Want to try again, Sheppard?" Duras inquired as he raised his fist once more, this time punching Sheppard on the side of the head.

The Colonel tried to focus as the second punch stunned him. Before he could regain his focus he felt the impact of a fist across his jaw once more. Two more blows rained down on Sheppard's unprotected face. One punch to an eye causing the skin near his eyebrow to split from the force of the fist's impact and begin to ooze blood down the side of the Colonel's face. The other blow landed across a cheekbone, instantly causing further bruising and small cuts.

"Well, feel like talking now Sheppard?" Duras sneered; he wouldn't be able to inflict the kind of damage he'd like on the Colonel. His Master wanted him healthy. Shame... it would be fun to see how much this Lantean could withstand, Berik thought.

"Sure... you know, most of the women I know can hit harder than you," the Colonel provoked the man waiting for him to react as he expected with his fists.

Duras didn't disappoint, as once again he punched Sheppard, this time aiming for his ribs. His hands now sore, he walked back toward the table peeling the gloves from his hands as he did so. He nodded at Silas, who was waiting a few feet away. With a wicked gleam in his eye, the man moved to Sheppard's side and immediately began punching him in the face not caring where his fists landed.


The wooden door to the cell opened, flooding the cell with light. Its occupants more alert now, anxiously thrashing against their chains.

Two men dragged an unconscious Sheppard by the arms, his feet behind him marking a trail in the strewn straw. The men dropped Sheppard back into place in the cell; his wrists were confined before the men trudged out of the cell.

The three inmates tried to get a good look at Sheppard, he'd obviously been interrogated, his face was red with welts from being repeatedly hit, his slumber not a natural one. His eye swollen, his jaw showing the signs of the bruises blooming already.

The trio heard the voices from the corridor, excited mutterings. Two men re-entered the cell, they moved toward Teyla. Unshackling her arms they pulled her to her feet dragging her out of the cell against the cries of her two conscious team mates.


Teyla was dragged to the room previously occupied by Sheppard. She was pushed down into the room's only chair and tied to it.

Duras paced behind Teyla as she was tied, he'd never been too bothered about using physical violence on a woman. He simply disliked that they always screamed more than men. He walked into Teyla's field of vision stating, "Teyla Emmagan, you're an Athosian living with these... Lantean's. Why, I do not know but I'll give you one opportunity before things turn... painful. I want Atlantis's new location. We know you moved planets; I'm not a patient man Teyla. Give me what I want," he angrily urged.

"Yes, I am Athosian and proud to say so. If you know so much about us then you will already know I will not tell you anything," Teyla firmly replied as she lifted her head in pride knowing her refusal would meet with violence.

Duras was rubbing the knuckles of his hands. They still stung from their impact with the Lantean leader. He turned his face sneering. Bringing his right arm back as he stepped forward, the thin man brought it down forcibly striking Teyla across the face, smiling as he heard the woman's cry of pain.

Teyla's head swung to one side from the force the slap. The shock and pain of the blow registering. She gasped trying to remember to breathe. She tentatively tested her jaw despite the stinging sensations covering her face. As she brought her head around to once more face the man before her, her determination to not reveal how painful the strike had actually been coming to the fore.

Duras waited a few moments allowing the pain from the strike to settle before he raised his left arm this time swinging it down to deliver a harsh back hand onto Teyla's face. He smirked as the loud smacking noise that accompanied the blow was followed by a loud yelp and hissing.

The Athosian panted hard, the sting from the first blow still evident as the hard backslap brought tears to her eyes. She tasted copper, her lower lip split. She spat out the blood once again turning to face the man who delivered the blows, steely determination allowing her to sneer back at the man.

"One last chance, Teyla?" he ground out through gritted teeth.

Teyla simply raised her head once more in an act of defiance.

Duras walked toward the table set to one side of the room that held his instruments. He liked to play with these tools, listen to his captors howl in pain but he knew his Master wanted these people intact. If he caused too much damage he'd find himself on the receiving end of his Master's temper, even Berik Duras flinched at that image.

He turned to Silas, "Bring the scientist, take her back. Our Master will not be happy if we damage his goods too much. Women do so easy damage," he snarled turning back to the instruments gently stroking each one hoping his Master would allow him to play just a little bit.

Teyla was dragged by Silas and another back to the cell. Ronon and McKay barked at the two men as they dumped the Athosian on the hard floor snapping her restraints back into place.

Quietly they moved on to McKay, releasing his wrists they grabbed an arm each hauling the man to his feet not waiting for him to steady himself as they dragged the man out of the cell.

Ronon snarled and thrashed as much as his own restraints would allow shouting at the men that they were cowards and to release him if they wanted to try their luck with a fair opponent. When the door closed Ronon's attention instantly went to his team mate.

"Teyla, are you alright?" The Satedan knew it was a ridiculous question but he needed to hear her say something.

"I am... fine," Teyla hissed as the split in her lip opened just a little more.

"When they come for me, I'll make them pay, Teyla, I promise. What do they want?" Ronon asked.

"Atlantis," was all the Athosian replied, her swollen lip objecting to being used.

TBC ... Please review