FIC SGA: FOREIGN CONCEPTS [CHAPTER 2]
Title: Foreign Concepts 2/11
Author: x-erikah-x
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence and torture
Word Count: ~26,000 in 11 chapters
Genre: Gen, H/C, Action, team friendship
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex and other cameos
Spoilers: Set at the end of season five, but no specific spoilers
Disclaimer: Stargate and its characters belong to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Inc. No infringements of rights is intented.
Beta: Many thanks to wildcat88. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Author’s Note: The full fic has 11 chapters, all finished and edited. I’ll post daily until it’s finished and I’m also working on a fic cover which will probably be ready on Sunday.
Summary: When the team first arrives on Milania, they are impressed with their level of accomplishment. The feeling soon fades when they discover how deep their xenophobia goes.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
John woke up and had to hold back a groan as he sat up. He looked around, seeing himself inside a cell that was maybe 6 feet. He stood, walking to the metal jail bars on one side.
Finding no handle, he tested the bars with a strong yank and only felt a slight vibration from the action. He stuck an arm through to see how far his hand would reach. The corridor outside was twice the distance of his arm. He tried looking around, but didn't see much.
He turned and touched the cold, rough walls as he made his way to the tiny concrete bed, noticing the lack of sharp edges on each corner. He stepped on the thin mattress and peeked through the small window. It was a narrow gap and all John saw was a clouded sky and another dull building across a wide corridor outside.
He sat down on the bed. "Rodney, Ronon, Teyla?" he called out. When no response came, he tried again, louder. "Rodney, Ronon, Teyla?"
Nothing. They were probably in separate cells. Very smart of whomever had captured them.
"Anyone?"
He grunted at the silence and sat back down, wondering what these people could possibly want with him. The last thing he remembered was entering that weird car and being locked inside with a gas grenade. He remembered trying to get out, banging on the windows and door then the world slowly tilting away.
It had been that gate officer from earlier.
There hadn't been a driver in the car when they had entered, and John had wondered if Percle would be driving them. Well, now he knew. He tried to understand why the Milanians had kidnapped them and why only after leaving the building.
A loud metal screech made John snap his head up. The bars were now open. He frowned when nobody showed up to either rescue him or to take him somewhere else.
Alert and ready to jump at the slightest hint of a threat, John stepped out of the cell, surprised to find no one there.
His cell was the last one with only a wall to his right. To his left, four other identical cells, all empty, and a door at the end. He tried the handle on the door, and stepped back when it opened. It took him to another corridor with the same look and feel, but slightly darker and with no windows. There weren't any cells, but it had several identical metal doors. He tested them one by one, and found them all locked.
All except one. The corridors had one door on each end; one was locked, but not the other. Knowing that he was being led somewhere made him more alert, and he took his time to step into the other room.
Also empty. It was a large room, with a long bench on one side, and showers that looked like very tall taps. The only thing inside was a small pile of gray clothes on the middle of the bench.
"Am I supposed to shower and change now?" he asked the walls. "You know, prisons often have guards telling you what to do and stuff..."
When no response came, John walked to the clothes to check for possible uses, like perhaps choking one of the invisible guards.
He was barely halfway there, when a slight ruffling noise made him turn around.
Five men in black uniforms approached him steadily. They were big and sneered at him as they curled their hands into fists. John coiled and stiffened when the door shut.
The five men surrounded him quickly. One of them smirked as he rubbed his fist.
One moment they were all frozen and coiled. The next, John was being held by four of them while the smirking guard punched him hard in the gut. Breath knocked out of him, John tried doubling over, but was prevented from moving by the fierce grip on his arms and legs. He coughed then gagged when the fist connected to the same area again.
And again.
And again.
He fell to his knees, gasping for air when the guards let go of him.
They didn't stop. A punch to his temple darkened his vision for a few moments. He slowly fell to the side. Then kicks and more kicks prevented him from getting up.
A hard boot to his sternum. Another to his coccyx. A sole to his back. Two hard tips to his stomach, his chest....
He barely had a break to try to curl into a ball.
John opened his eyes to slits when they stopped and saw the five guards smirking. He inhaled sharply when he saw a blade in one of their hands closing to his side. The four other men held him down while he jerked, turned and kicked.
Their grip was fierce and soon John couldn't move anymore. His breathing accelerated as the cold knife touched his skin then came up in one swift move. Fabric ripped and cold air hit his body. The blade sliced his shirt and BDUs into useless strips of cloth.
He stared into the eyes of the one who appeared to be the lead guard, fire burning in John's eyes. The man smiled and kicked John's head.
When John opened his eyes again, the guards were nowhere to be seen and the pile of clothes was tossed on the floor in front of him.
He sat up, holding back a cry of pain when his body yelled that he was one giant bruise. He looked at himself, wincing at the bleeding wounds and the darkening marks under all the holes and slices on his clothes.
'That's great, John. You've got prison guards picking on you.'
One of the showers turned on by itself and that was John's cue to use it. He took another look at himself, got up slowly then got under the water. The freezing cold water.
He removed what was left of his uniform then cleaned each of the cuts, ignoring all the stings and trying his best not to groan. He was almost finished with the last patch of blood on a particularly hard area to reach when the water stopped. He rolled his eyes and put on the gray prison robes. They were plain and boring like all the other clothes these people liked.
The metal door opened again and the five guards entered. John stiffened and stared into their eyes. They stepped aside and the leader tilted his head out. John walked slowly, trying not to show his limp. He remained alert, ready to defend himself if they decided to use him as a kicking bag again.
They didn't. They accompanied John back to his cell without touching him.
"Do you guys at least have names?" John asked simply to break the silence.
There was no response.
"Okay, what about Curly, Larry, Moe and..."
They kicked his legs and made him trip.
He soon recovered his footing and stopped by the doorway of his cell. "Don't like that? What about Bart, Homer--"
He was kicked on his legs and pushed inside, ending up face down on the bed. Before he could get up, a fierce grip on the back of his neck kept his head down. He jerked and flapped his hands around to get away, but was soon held by the other men. His chest heaved, but no air came. John gasped lungfuls of mattress and another hand pushed his head down. He opened his mouth, but inhaled nothing more than fibers from the fabric. For a moment, the only thing he felt was the hammer in his chest first getting stronger, then slowing down. His extremities tingled then numbed; his chest burned and tightened. Soon, his body sagged and the lack of air seemed unimportant compared to the irresistible urge to sleep.
###
Kirple stood and crossed the distance between him and Commander Dorr, the paper on his hand crumpling with his tight hold.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Kirple narrowed his eyes.
Dorr quirked one side of his lip. “I think the meaning is clear in the report.”
“Commander, I highly doubt those people had ill intentions. In fact--“
“That’s the problem, Kirple!” Dorr said as he stepped forward, now standing a mere inch away from Kirple’s face. “You have too much faith in strangers! But I stand by my officer’s word. They made the first move!”
“Why would they attack without provocation? Why would they come to my office and offer help if violence was what they intended all along?” Kirple returned the same tone and didn’t back off, even when Dorr sneered and narrowed his eyes.
“Who can know how the mind of an outsider works? Who in sane conscience would trust a foreigner’s actions? The mere thought of allowing people like that into our land, let alone this office could be enough to result in immediate arrest!”
“Is that a threat?”
“Make no mistake, Kirple. Your popularity has dropped like a rock ever since those revolting Lenans were allowed to poison our people. One tiny crack and I can have you removed.” Dorr turned around brusquely and left.
###
Teyla woke up inside the same cell she had found herself in the previous day. She placed a hand to her head as she sat up and exhaled slowly to dull the ache there. Her hand slid down to her cheek and she frowned when it met a tender spot there. She cradled her slightly swollen arm and closed her eyes as she remembered the cries and yells.
She had risen to her feet and had run to her opponent, but only the floor had greeted her. They were many and they were strong. She had had no chance. Teyla had stared at the guards' eyes with fire burning in hers.
The guards had seen her furious look as they beat another woman. Deciding that Teyla's actions required punishment, they had dragged a small woman from her cell
Dragged her where?while Teyla pleaded for them to stop. That had only driven them further.
They had twisted Teyla's arm behind her back and pressed her face against the bars to watch as they beat another woman in her place.
Teyla opened her eyes and exhaled slowly, hoping it would take the sting away from her eyes.
She hadn't seen her team yet. She knew they would find each other though she worried for them. Were they in a similar cell? Were they receiving similar treatment? Were they all right?
Her cell door opened and snapped her out of her thoughts. She stared at the man outside. He almost smiled then looked at someone in the corridor beyond her sight. Teyla didn't need to see. She knew who the guard was looking at.
Without looking down or taking her eyes away from his, Teyla walked out. She stood in line. When the line of women started walking, Teyla followed.
They went to the same shower room that Teyla had been taken the previous day. The women did not undress. They took turns and washed their faces, hands and feet then lined up in front of another door.
One of the guards hit a woman with the back of his hand. Teyla reacted and stepped forward. A hand held her. When she looked back, she saw the woman that had been beaten the previous night. The woman had an eye swollen shut; she shook her head, begging with her eyes.
Teyla turned her head back to the scene. The guard stood and the fallen woman trembled. The guard moved away and the woman remained.
Teyla had never felt so helpless. All the women looked down and avoided the men's eyes.
Except for Teyla.
###
Chapters 3 and 4
Author: x-erikah-x
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence and torture
Word Count: ~26,000 in 11 chapters
Genre: Gen, H/C, Action, team friendship
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex and other cameos
Spoilers: Set at the end of season five, but no specific spoilers
Disclaimer: Stargate and its characters belong to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Inc. No infringements of rights is intented.
Beta: Many thanks to wildcat88. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Author’s Note: The full fic has 11 chapters, all finished and edited. I’ll post daily until it’s finished and I’m also working on a fic cover which will probably be ready on Sunday.
Summary: When the team first arrives on Milania, they are impressed with their level of accomplishment. The feeling soon fades when they discover how deep their xenophobia goes.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
John woke up and had to hold back a groan as he sat up. He looked around, seeing himself inside a cell that was maybe 6 feet. He stood, walking to the metal jail bars on one side.
Finding no handle, he tested the bars with a strong yank and only felt a slight vibration from the action. He stuck an arm through to see how far his hand would reach. The corridor outside was twice the distance of his arm. He tried looking around, but didn't see much.
He turned and touched the cold, rough walls as he made his way to the tiny concrete bed, noticing the lack of sharp edges on each corner. He stepped on the thin mattress and peeked through the small window. It was a narrow gap and all John saw was a clouded sky and another dull building across a wide corridor outside.
He sat down on the bed. "Rodney, Ronon, Teyla?" he called out. When no response came, he tried again, louder. "Rodney, Ronon, Teyla?"
Nothing. They were probably in separate cells. Very smart of whomever had captured them.
"Anyone?"
He grunted at the silence and sat back down, wondering what these people could possibly want with him. The last thing he remembered was entering that weird car and being locked inside with a gas grenade. He remembered trying to get out, banging on the windows and door then the world slowly tilting away.
It had been that gate officer from earlier.
There hadn't been a driver in the car when they had entered, and John had wondered if Percle would be driving them. Well, now he knew. He tried to understand why the Milanians had kidnapped them and why only after leaving the building.
A loud metal screech made John snap his head up. The bars were now open. He frowned when nobody showed up to either rescue him or to take him somewhere else.
Alert and ready to jump at the slightest hint of a threat, John stepped out of the cell, surprised to find no one there.
His cell was the last one with only a wall to his right. To his left, four other identical cells, all empty, and a door at the end. He tried the handle on the door, and stepped back when it opened. It took him to another corridor with the same look and feel, but slightly darker and with no windows. There weren't any cells, but it had several identical metal doors. He tested them one by one, and found them all locked.
All except one. The corridors had one door on each end; one was locked, but not the other. Knowing that he was being led somewhere made him more alert, and he took his time to step into the other room.
Also empty. It was a large room, with a long bench on one side, and showers that looked like very tall taps. The only thing inside was a small pile of gray clothes on the middle of the bench.
"Am I supposed to shower and change now?" he asked the walls. "You know, prisons often have guards telling you what to do and stuff..."
When no response came, John walked to the clothes to check for possible uses, like perhaps choking one of the invisible guards.
He was barely halfway there, when a slight ruffling noise made him turn around.
Five men in black uniforms approached him steadily. They were big and sneered at him as they curled their hands into fists. John coiled and stiffened when the door shut.
The five men surrounded him quickly. One of them smirked as he rubbed his fist.
One moment they were all frozen and coiled. The next, John was being held by four of them while the smirking guard punched him hard in the gut. Breath knocked out of him, John tried doubling over, but was prevented from moving by the fierce grip on his arms and legs. He coughed then gagged when the fist connected to the same area again.
And again.
And again.
He fell to his knees, gasping for air when the guards let go of him.
They didn't stop. A punch to his temple darkened his vision for a few moments. He slowly fell to the side. Then kicks and more kicks prevented him from getting up.
A hard boot to his sternum. Another to his coccyx. A sole to his back. Two hard tips to his stomach, his chest....
He barely had a break to try to curl into a ball.
John opened his eyes to slits when they stopped and saw the five guards smirking. He inhaled sharply when he saw a blade in one of their hands closing to his side. The four other men held him down while he jerked, turned and kicked.
Their grip was fierce and soon John couldn't move anymore. His breathing accelerated as the cold knife touched his skin then came up in one swift move. Fabric ripped and cold air hit his body. The blade sliced his shirt and BDUs into useless strips of cloth.
He stared into the eyes of the one who appeared to be the lead guard, fire burning in John's eyes. The man smiled and kicked John's head.
When John opened his eyes again, the guards were nowhere to be seen and the pile of clothes was tossed on the floor in front of him.
He sat up, holding back a cry of pain when his body yelled that he was one giant bruise. He looked at himself, wincing at the bleeding wounds and the darkening marks under all the holes and slices on his clothes.
'That's great, John. You've got prison guards picking on you.'
One of the showers turned on by itself and that was John's cue to use it. He took another look at himself, got up slowly then got under the water. The freezing cold water.
He removed what was left of his uniform then cleaned each of the cuts, ignoring all the stings and trying his best not to groan. He was almost finished with the last patch of blood on a particularly hard area to reach when the water stopped. He rolled his eyes and put on the gray prison robes. They were plain and boring like all the other clothes these people liked.
The metal door opened again and the five guards entered. John stiffened and stared into their eyes. They stepped aside and the leader tilted his head out. John walked slowly, trying not to show his limp. He remained alert, ready to defend himself if they decided to use him as a kicking bag again.
They didn't. They accompanied John back to his cell without touching him.
"Do you guys at least have names?" John asked simply to break the silence.
There was no response.
"Okay, what about Curly, Larry, Moe and..."
They kicked his legs and made him trip.
He soon recovered his footing and stopped by the doorway of his cell. "Don't like that? What about Bart, Homer--"
He was kicked on his legs and pushed inside, ending up face down on the bed. Before he could get up, a fierce grip on the back of his neck kept his head down. He jerked and flapped his hands around to get away, but was soon held by the other men. His chest heaved, but no air came. John gasped lungfuls of mattress and another hand pushed his head down. He opened his mouth, but inhaled nothing more than fibers from the fabric. For a moment, the only thing he felt was the hammer in his chest first getting stronger, then slowing down. His extremities tingled then numbed; his chest burned and tightened. Soon, his body sagged and the lack of air seemed unimportant compared to the irresistible urge to sleep.
###
Kirple stood and crossed the distance between him and Commander Dorr, the paper on his hand crumpling with his tight hold.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Kirple narrowed his eyes.
Dorr quirked one side of his lip. “I think the meaning is clear in the report.”
“Commander, I highly doubt those people had ill intentions. In fact--“
“That’s the problem, Kirple!” Dorr said as he stepped forward, now standing a mere inch away from Kirple’s face. “You have too much faith in strangers! But I stand by my officer’s word. They made the first move!”
“Why would they attack without provocation? Why would they come to my office and offer help if violence was what they intended all along?” Kirple returned the same tone and didn’t back off, even when Dorr sneered and narrowed his eyes.
“Who can know how the mind of an outsider works? Who in sane conscience would trust a foreigner’s actions? The mere thought of allowing people like that into our land, let alone this office could be enough to result in immediate arrest!”
“Is that a threat?”
“Make no mistake, Kirple. Your popularity has dropped like a rock ever since those revolting Lenans were allowed to poison our people. One tiny crack and I can have you removed.” Dorr turned around brusquely and left.
###
Teyla woke up inside the same cell she had found herself in the previous day. She placed a hand to her head as she sat up and exhaled slowly to dull the ache there. Her hand slid down to her cheek and she frowned when it met a tender spot there. She cradled her slightly swollen arm and closed her eyes as she remembered the cries and yells.
She had risen to her feet and had run to her opponent, but only the floor had greeted her. They were many and they were strong. She had had no chance. Teyla had stared at the guards' eyes with fire burning in hers.
The guards had seen her furious look as they beat another woman. Deciding that Teyla's actions required punishment, they had dragged a small woman from her cell
Dragged her where?while Teyla pleaded for them to stop. That had only driven them further.
They had twisted Teyla's arm behind her back and pressed her face against the bars to watch as they beat another woman in her place.
Teyla opened her eyes and exhaled slowly, hoping it would take the sting away from her eyes.
She hadn't seen her team yet. She knew they would find each other though she worried for them. Were they in a similar cell? Were they receiving similar treatment? Were they all right?
Her cell door opened and snapped her out of her thoughts. She stared at the man outside. He almost smiled then looked at someone in the corridor beyond her sight. Teyla didn't need to see. She knew who the guard was looking at.
Without looking down or taking her eyes away from his, Teyla walked out. She stood in line. When the line of women started walking, Teyla followed.
They went to the same shower room that Teyla had been taken the previous day. The women did not undress. They took turns and washed their faces, hands and feet then lined up in front of another door.
One of the guards hit a woman with the back of his hand. Teyla reacted and stepped forward. A hand held her. When she looked back, she saw the woman that had been beaten the previous night. The woman had an eye swollen shut; she shook her head, begging with her eyes.
Teyla turned her head back to the scene. The guard stood and the fallen woman trembled. The guard moved away and the woman remained.
Teyla had never felt so helpless. All the women looked down and avoided the men's eyes.
Except for Teyla.
###
Chapters 3 and 4