O'Neill Interrupted an interlude Part 2
"You're asking me?" Jack couldn't help laughing, despite his predicament. "Maybe they smelled your BO and left in a hurry. I could understand that."
The irony of being questioned about the deserted Alpha site hadn't escaped him, especially the fact that the first human voice he had heard for so long was that of a First Prime asking him questions he couldn't answer. It wasn't much better for the Jaffa, however - the first person from the SGC they capture and it has to be someone who's been out of the loop for months.
"You will not find things so amusing when my Master questions you." The Jaffa stared down at him and smiled grimly.
"And he would be
?" Jack waved a hand in the air, feigning disinterest. "I know we've met before, but we didn't really get a chance to sit and chat."
The man didn't answer, merely giving the two Jaffa standing to either side of Jack a short nod of command. They stooped, grabbing him by the arms, and hauled him upright. He was unable to conceal a grimace as the sudden move sent his head spinning, but he straightened, endeavouring to appear as dignified as possible.
The walk out into the open was carried out in silence, the presence of the large and ominously silent warrior stalking along behind them, enough to convince Jack that any attempt to escape would be futile.
They ringed into the middle of a large room, its plain walls giving no clue as to its location. Frog-marched to the doors, Jack gave an involuntary gasp of surprise when they carried on straight out into the open air, a long, narrow walkway stretching out across a void so deep the bottom could not be seen. Vertigo had him staggering, only the grip of the two Jaffa keeping him on his feet as the vast fires burning in the depths glowed beneath him.
"Come." The command was terse and the Jaffa wasted no time following their commander's directions. Fierce wind tugged at Jack's hair, blowing its now non-regulation strands across his eyes. He gave a quick shake, trying to dislodge it, but only succeeding in making the Jaffa tighten their already death-like grip on his arms.
So now he was dizzy, aching all over probably from the big honking explosion when they caught him, about to have both his arms fall off from lack of circulation, beginning to feel rather distant and other-worldly, with, all the while, spiky little points of hair ends brushing across his eyeballs.
He raised his eyes to the heavens, ignoring the fact they were covered with swirling orange and red clouds, and implored God to give him a break.
**********
Jack prowled the confines of the tiny cell, his gaze nervously flittering to the door at every turn of direction. This wasn't quite the break he had prayed for.
Despite his earlier bravado, Jack remembered perfectly well who Herak was. And which Goa'uld he served.
Anubis now big cheese of the snake pantheon.
It had been at least a week, by his rather imperfect method of calculation, that he'd been just sitting here, twiddling his thumbs, with the occasional and all too infrequent delivery of food and water the only break in the monotony. On one hand he was glad to have been left alone here for so long, but on the other, he was so bored he was almost looking forward to being tortured.
He finally stopped his obsessive pacing, sitting down on the floor in the corner furthest from the door, with his back against the wall. He tucked his knees up and rested his chin on them.
The distant feeling had grown, creeping up on him as each day passed, until sometimes he wondered if he was in the cell at all, or if it was just one of the dreams. The thing that scared him the most was that when he thought of his friends and colleagues back home, their faces were indistinct and he had to concentrate to remember the most basic of details about them. His life before the cell was fading away, replaced by images and ideas that were totally alien. Sometimes he found himself mumbling unintelligible gibberish, English replaced by Ancient. The process seemed different from the last time, less hurried more leisurely but it was a force that could not be halted, inexorably changing him.
If Anubis waited much longer, all he'd have left to question was a raving lunatic.
*********
Something was going on. The gap between meals was longer and when they did come the servers literally threw the meagre rations through the door and slammed it shut again, leaving Jack to scramble around, trying to scrape what he could up from the floor. Occasionally he heard shouts, angry voices and the sound of marching feet, but there was still no sign that he was of any interest to anyone except the very bad cook.
He would have thought, after so many months of being alone, that this non-existence, this limbo of a waiting room, would be easy to bear. He was being fed and watered and was inside, in relative comfort compared to Harry's moon. But that wasn't the case. The constant anticipation, and he had to admit it, fear, of what was to happen next, were slowly shattering his nerves and doing more to break him than the worst physical torture. He knew it was happening, but, as he wrestled with the changes going on in his mind, he could spare no extra energy to stopping the ever increasing depression he was falling into.
Instead of pacing, he now spent most of his time curled up on the simple mattress that was a poor substitute for a proper bed, lost in a world of dreams and delusions. The faces of his team mixed in with others, familiar yet out of place Colonel Mitchell with Carter in the F-302, Dixon shooting at Jaffa. The last scene was the one that convinced Jack it was all just a product of his warped imagination, because both Daniel and Jonas were there, and Daniel sure didn't look glowy.
Everything was moving along without him. Even in his own dreams he wasn't needed.
He had been forgotten.
**********
The jolt from the staff blast had Jack doubled over in pain, clutching at his belly as if to stop his insides from cascading out onto the cell floor. He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling, and breathed in short, panting gasps, trying to understand what was happening to him. He lifted his hands reluctantly, almost afraid to look.
His stomach was unmarked, with no sign of the wound he knew had been there just a few minutes ago.
It was getting too hard to keep everything straight in his mind.
It wasn't working anymore.
**********
When they did come to get him, Jack was not prepared. He had to be physically wrenched from the cocoon of blankets he had created for himself, and carried bodily through the corridors. His legs seemed unable to take his weight, stiff and sore as if he had been frozen in one position for a very long time. His hair hung lankly, almost reaching his shoulders, and he felt a full beard hot and uncomfortable on his face.
How long had he been there?
As his mind woke, he tried to take some control of the situation, finally getting his feet underneath him instead of dragging behind, and took the next few steps on his own. The Jaffa holding him eased their grip slightly and slowed a little, as if acknowledging his efforts, or at least the fact they didn't have to carry as much of his weight.
It was a surprisingly quick journey two or three turns of the corridor and they were in front of doors that looked more important than the others they had passed, if only by their size. A squish of motion, they parted, and he was dumped unceremoniously at the foot of a large throne.
Jack's dignity had deserted him along with his energy. He didn't make an effort to defiantly stand, instead staying on all fours, his head hanging. He did manage to raise a hand and give a rather dismissive wave of greeting to the Goa'uld he just knew had to be watching him.
"Colonel O'Neill. I apologise for not welcoming you earlier to my home, but I have been somewhat busy."
Jack raised his head and gave the black cloaked figure a smile. "Haud forsit." His voice rasped dryly in his throat from long disuse.
"Good, I am glad it was no problem. I hope our relationship will now continue on a more pleasant footing."
"Spero sic quoque. Magas victulus exsisto bono."
Anubis nodded, the cowl slipping a little from his face, revealing a dark void. "The question of food will depend on just how cooperative you are now we have a chance to talk." He paused, standing, his robes rippling around his feet as he strode towards Jack. He bent, taking Jack's chin in a firm grip and raised it, pulling it painfully up until O'Neill met his gaze, his neck bent at an awkward angle. "Why are you speaking in Ancient?"
Several things flashed through Jack's mind in the next moment. He hadn't every realised he was speaking in anything other than English until Anubis had mentioned it, but it was hardly surprising. What was surprising was that the Goa'uld had not only recognised the language, but appeared to understand it.
Jack made a conscious effort and managed to make the switch back to his native tongue. "Ancient? Moi? Not likely. School boy Latin the product of a Catholic upbringing. Just messing with you a little." He grinned his best shit-eating grin. "It worked."
His chin was dropped, and he thankfully lowered his head again. The Goa'uld was silent, and Jack finally looked up, to find the horror-movie visage pointed directly at him.
"I think you will soon find little to joke about, O'Neill. I have questions I want answers to answers I am sure you can provide."
Jack felt a strange relief at being back on familiar ground. Torture. He could do torture. It was mind games he had a problem with right now. What little mind he had left wasn't in any condition for games.
"Herak will prepare you. Do not be concerned I have matters to attend to, but I shall return."
"Ophero non volito mehi." Jack gave himself a mental kick, annoyed at his slip back into Ancient.
Anubis paused in his steps and turned back. "This is interesting, but it can wait. As you say, I will not hurry on your account. I intend to take my time with you, O'Neill." He spun and exited the room, his entourage of hangers-on hurrying to follow, leaving only a grimly smiling First Prime.
"Oh, goody."
It seemed Ancient did not lend itself to sarcasm.
**********
At first it seemed to Jack that his interrogation would go along the standard lines. The usual high table, the straps except in this case there was the interesting, but not unique, addition of a yoke across his neck which also held his hands securely in place, and the normal gloating attendants standing in the wings to observe.
Things started to go south when Herak brought out a spiky metal ball, holding it extended on the palm of his right hand so Jack could get a good look at it.
"We have recently used this on Jonas Quinn, with great success. My Lord Anubis was very pleased with the information we obtained from him."
Jonas? Jonas had been here? And recently? Jack tried to get his head around the information. Where was Jonas now and what about Teal'c and Carter? Had they been captured as well?
He knew better than to ask. He closed his eyes, fighting the sudden urge to struggle.
"I see you are ready, Colonel O'Neill. Good." Jack didn't need to look to recognise the echoing tones of the Goa'uld.
He felt, rather than saw, the snake approach, that weird hair rising on the back of the neck sensation growing as the seconds stretched on.
When it happened, it took him by surprise even though he had been expecting it. There was a sudden, sharp pressure against his skull then pain as the thing burrowed into his brain. He couldn't tell where the entry point was as agony engulfed his entire head. It moved quickly, tentacles seeming to reach down deep inside him, inching their way through his thoughts.
Jack could hear himself whimpering, a soft, low sound that did little to alleviate his distress, but he couldn't help it.
"The pain is severe, I have been told - a rather pleasing side-effect of the device. But you can end it swiftly by not fighting. Show me what I need to know and you can return to your cell. There is food waiting for you already."
"Peto Abyssus."
Anubis laughed, and Jack felt his breath against his cheek as he leaned closer and spoke softly into his ear.
"The only one going to Hell is you, Colonel. In fact, you are already there."
**********
Jack had never thought he would be happy to see a cell, but when he was tossed back through the door, he could only feel relief.
He rubbed at his neck, cringing at the stabbing pain that shot down and sent his spine spasming. The nasty metal ball was still imbedded somewhere inside his head, ready for the next session. Herak had taken great delight in telling him that when he had finally regained consciousness.
And all for what? The questions had seemed random and often quite meaningless. Anubis had wanted gate addresses where the Alpha site had been moved to, the planets the Tok'ra used, planets with Ancient technology. That last one seemed of special interest.
Jack had resisted, feeling the snake pushing into his thoughts. He had tried to keep his Ancient knowledge from the Goa'uld at all costs, mentally spitting out gate addresses at random as a distraction. For once his ability to forget the details of missions and briefings unless important, was an advantage as he regurgitated the symbols without any actual information. At last the barrage of information had been too much and the Goa'uld had called a halt to the proceedings, with a promise of more to come.
Jack crawled his way to the bowl sitting in the center of the room, seeing Anubis had not been lying when he had said he had ordered food for him.
Food for his pet Tau'ri.
Jack took a few bites of the soft bread and promptly threw up.
**********
"This time we shall try something different, Colonel." Anubis stretched out a gloved hand and patted him gently on the shoulder. Jack couldn't help flinching. "You have done well." Another pat. "I am pleased. Already my men are investigating the planets you have given me, so we shall move on."
Jack could do nothing but shake his head. He was ill-prepared for another interrogation so soon after the last. If Anubis found out about the information Jack held in his brain, he would use it to destroy everything that stood in his path to total domination, including Earth.
"Tell me about yourself, Colonel. Tell me a little of your life at the SGC. What led you to be alone on the planet where you were captured?"
For a second an image of the alien ship flashed through Jack's brain, and he panicked, replacing it with the first thing that came into his head with his strongest memory.
Charlie lay on the floor of the master bedroom, the hole in his chest pouring blood. Jack knelt beside him, sure his own heart would stop at any moment.
Sorrow engulfed him.
**********
Anubis had his memories. He had seen his most private moments of grief and had twisted them, taunting him as being weak and not worthy to be called a warrior. He had laughed as Jack cried silently, tears running down his face and on to the hard metal table. Jack couldn't even wipe them away.
Now, back once more in his cell, he scrubbed at his face in a futile attempt to hide the evidence of his weakness.
He had hidden the Ancient knowledge within him from the snake, but at what cost?
**********
The now regular meals were a means of working out the passing of time. Once a day they arrived, now in proper plates or bowls. Every two or three days Jack was taken back to the torture room and played with. And every three or four days he managed to keep some food down.
When asked about his use of Ancient something that was happening more and more often as his will-power was eroded he dredged up memories of his childhood that were so detailed he surprised even himself - Father Dooley, snapping the wooden ruler at any boy who couldn't repeat the declensions immediately when he shouted out a question, even in the middle of a science lesson. Jack's knuckles still had the scars, but it was amazing how much he had actually retained. It had come in handy when he and Teal'c had done the translation during the time loop. And he remembered his mother's pride when he received the school prize for Latin a subject he had seen as totally pointless and a complete waste of time.
He had SO proved himself wrong.
It seemed to work. Now Anubis didn't even bother to attend most of the sessions, leaving Jack to the tender mercies of Herak and his Jaffa.
The First Prime told him they had no intention of removing the device, and that they were amazed he had lasted so long. Most, he said, died within a few days. Then he asked about Charlie again, and laughed as the memories flooded Jack's brain.
Was Jonas dead? How many others had been lost while Jack was in this living hell?
To complete his misery, the dreams were back. The last one featured Daniel, his face so twisted and contorted that he looked like a completely different person. He ranted at Jack, shouting accusations that he had been trapped, one moment demanding in a supercilious tone to be released and in another calling out for his father.
His voice sounded like Charlie's.
**********
"You intrigue me, O'Neill. I assumed you were like any other First Prime, loyal and clever, but merely a warrior, but our sessions have hinted at something more something you hide." Anubis leaned forward on his throne, his hood nodding as he moved his head. "I grow weary of our games. It seems that for some reason my little toy cannot delve deep enough to truly uncover your secrets, so I have decided I must reluctantly resort to more primitive methods. Fortunately Herak is well practised in the art."
He waved a hand and Jack was pulled from his position on the floor. Just as he was almost to the door, Anubis spoke again, causing the guards to halt in their tracks.
"Do not be concerned that you are being damaged beyond repair. I keep a sarcophagus for just these occasions."
His laughter followed them out.
**********
Breaking bones is much harder than you think unless of course, you are a Jaffa with over two hundred pounds of solid muscle with orders from his god. Then it's quite easy.
Jack's leg snapped as soon as he shook his head when the first question was asked. It seemed Anubis hadn't been taken in by his subterfuge after all. The words 'ancient' and 'secrets' merged into background noise as his attention was riveted on the sight of a piece of his tibia sticking through the skin.
It all seemed so unreal, like a dream sequence in a movie. Even the pain he knew he should be experiencing was dull and easily ignored.
But extreme pain can only be ignored for so long, even when you are losing your mind. Eventually, as a pain stick sent signals along his nerves and out his mouth and eyes, he collapsed, his limbs still twitching even as he lapsed into unconsciousness.
He woke in the sarcophagus, and for long horrifying moments thought he was back in the hands of Ba'al. When the lid split open and Herak's face stared down at him, the reality of his situation returned and he was somewhat relieved to know Ba'al didn't figure in the equation. Ba'al had his own brand of sadism that even Anubis and his goons couldn't aspire to.
He lay there, wondering why they didn't lift him out, but pleased at the same time to rest, even if it was likely to be short. What he didn't expect was the sharp poke of Herak's finger into his leg and the resulting excruciating pain.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
"He is not healed, My Lord."
Jack could hear the anxiety in the First Prime's voice. It was clear Anubis didn't appreciate mistakes being made.
Within moments Herak was rudely pushed aside, replaced by the black hole that masqueraded as the snake's face. Jack's leg was grabbed in a gloved fist and moved, shoved backwards and forwards until he moaned in agony.
"Take him out." The order was terse and the resulting actions hurried, and Jack was soon dumped in a heap on the floor, blood splattering across the cold metal. He watched through eyes blurred with pain while the Goa'uld took a staff weapon and fired at the Jaffa standing next to Herak. The First Prime didn't flinch.
"Test it."
The resulting mess was scraped up off the floor and thrown unceremoniously into the golden box.
It looked like it may be a while, and it appeared everyone was quite prepared to wait.
"Could I get a little help? Bloodstains are so hard to get out of the rugs."
"There are no rugs."
Jack rolled his eyes at the Goa'uld. "Look, if you want to continue 'playing' with me, you'll have to do some old-fashioned doctoring." He gestured to his leg. "This isn't the soundest limb I have. It's been through a lot in the last year or so and it's almost out of warranty. You wouldn't want a one-legged Tau'ri with a very foul temper stomping around your palace, now would you? I get very tetchy when I have to limp."
Jack was sure that if the snake had any eyes he would be rolling them in return. "You are beginning to annoy me, O'Neill. Do not try my patience any longer." Anubis turned to Herak. "Have him returned to his cell and see to his injuries." With that he swept from the room, leaving behind a very apprehensive group of Jaffa.
From the corner of his eye, Jack caught movement. "Hey, guys, you may want to check your buddy."
They stared at him. He raised an eyebrow and pointed towards the sarcophagus. Finally understanding, they all watched as their recently deceased comrade sat up, looking rather disoriented.
Jack grimaced. So it worked. Just not on him. Oh well, he could live with that. Or die with it, as the case may be.
He raised a hand, waving it for attention. "Hello. Still bleeding here."
Once again they stared at him and he finally realised what the problem was.
Everything he had said since waking in the sarcophagus had been in Ancient.
Crap.
**********
The tall figure stalking towards them, its eyes glowing hotly in the semi-darkness of the corridor, had even the behemoth Jaffa ducking to get out of its way. Jack twisted his head to watch its progress until it turned the corner. The strange creatures, skulls or kulls or something, were certainly scary looking, but he wondered just how much use they would be in a real battle. They looked like typical cannon fodder. He had heard the Jaffa talking about them during his sojourns in the torture chamber and they didn't seem any more enamoured with the things than he was.
His thoughts were violently turned back to his own situation as he was pushed up against the wall inside his cell and told to stand.
Wasn't going to happen.
He slipped into an untidy slouched posture, his broken leg stuck out in front of him.
"We have no healers. Our symbiotes heal our injuries. Those that can't, die." One of the guards appeared in the doorway, holding a bundle out. The First Prime took it and flung it on the floor, where it broke open, revealing a few bandages and some lengths of wood that could be used as a splint. "Here. I shall see clean water is brought."
He turned to leave.
"Hey, Nuby isn't going to be happy you know."
Herak ignored him and left, the guards following and shutting the cell door behind them.
Jack couldn't resist a parting shot. "Bet you miss my dry wit."
He sighed and began the grim task of treating his own injuries. The broken leg was by far the worst, and it was a gruesome sight, one that had his already queasy stomach churning. But he pushed down the nausea and got on with the job, doing the best he could with no help. True to his word, Herak had a large container of water delivered, and he used that to carefully wash the wound, drying it with some cloth that was bundled in with the bandages. By the time he had finished splinting and wrapping his leg, Jack was shivering with cold.
He recognised the signs - he was going into shock. He pressed his hands on the limb, willing the healing power he had used back on Harry's moon to return, but only managing a minute or two of warm glow before losing consciousness.
**********
The pain stick had him thrashing, crying out against his captors as the electrodes shot current into his body. He strained against the chair he was tied to, begging over and over for it to stop. "Punto
por favour."
Except he had Daniel's face. And he was speaking Spanish.
**********
He was leaning against the wall again when the lights went out, having pulled himself up after lying down for far too long. He felt like all he'd done lately was lie down in his cell, get dragged through corridors, and lie down again on the torture slab.
He was sick of lying down.
Waking this time, he had found his mind clearer
He couldn't pace his leg was far from healed, although it wasn't as bad as it should have been, courtesy of the short burst of power he'd managed before blacking out. So, hours later, he was leaning against the wall and considering his options not that there were many.
Then, the lights went out and the dull ever-present hum of machinery ceased.
The sudden darkness was accompanied by muffled explosions and running feet. Jack knew the cell intimately, having paced its length so often - he had no need to see. He eased himself up and made a lurching, almost-fall towards it and when there, leaned against the cool metal, listening intently.
The sarcophagus may not have healed Jack, but something had clicked in his brain and he seemed to have achieved some sort of clarity. How long it would last, he didn't know. Perhaps it was the final burst his mind gave before the end, like a dying fruit tree with its boughs laden while its heart was rotten. All he knew was that an opportunity had been handed to him, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to take it.
One chance one change in his luck was all he was looking for.
Just one.
He waited until the shouts and hurrying footsteps ceased then pressed the door release that small panel to the left of the entrance that had taunted him all these days, no more able to be opened than if it was sealed with an old-fashioned padlock.
There was a thud and a clunk, but nothing more.
From somewhere, deep inside, the idea that he could do more rose up, and he prised at the cover plate, heedless of the way his already broken fingernails cracked and split. The revealed mish-mash of tiny crystals gave out just enough light for his questing fingers to find the pattern he instinctively knew, and, moving with a sureness he took for granted, they rearranged the patterns. The middle green moved upwards, white taking its place while the red on the bottom row was discarded altogether, dropped to the floor and then trodden on by bare feet without even realising he had done so. With a final 'snick' the large orange crystal on the right was pushed inwards two notches and the door slid open.
Burning torches illuminated the corridor, sending flares of light into corner and then receding, leaving them dark once more. Jack slipped around the door, looked both ways, held his breath for a few seconds then crept forward. He bit back a groan as his injured leg protested, and forced himself to ignore it. He was experienced at limping. Maybe when he got back to the SGC he would get the Doc to cut the damn thing off and be done with it.
He passed through the maze of corridors like a shadow, waiting in alcoves while Jaffa ran past, and ducking into empty rooms to avoid Goa'uld and skull monsters.
The first massive black armoured creature that passed had almost caught him, only its slowness and single-mindedness giving him a chance to hide behind a metal protuberance sticking out from the wall. Not for the first time Jack gave a small thanks for the Goa'uld architects who designed their ships and bases with more thought to effect than practicality. He watched carefully as the thing stalked ponderously past, wondering if the helmet it wore acted like a blinker, making it impossible to see out the sides. Something worth remembering.
He had no idea what was going on, except that Anubis's base appeared to be under attack, shrill alarms sounding loud in the empty halls. At first he hoped to come across the attacking forces, figuring that throwing in his lot with them would be better than sticking around until his value as a plaything ran out. Then he had a sudden thought maybe it was Ba'al trying a takeover bid. Did he really want to swap one torturer for another? At least Nuby had a reason for what he was doing. Ba'al might have pretended to be after information, but Jack had seen the light of sadism in his eyes and the way he licked his lips as each groan was rung from his victim. No Ba'al was one sick bastard. Rather than letting himself fall into Ba'al's hands, Jack decided he would find a way to end things here, maybe taking out the high and mighty snakehead Anubis in the process. He hurried on, searching for something, anything, he could use to arm himself.
There! A movement down at the end of the hallway. Running figures.
Jack slunk back against the wall. Maybe he could catch one of the approaching soldiers off-guard as he went past grab a weapon.
Pounding footsteps told him they were close, and he turned slightly, hiding his face, only lifting it as they ran by.
A flash of familiar green. Unruly blonde hair.
God! It was Carter.
For a second he froze, too stunned to move, then he stepped out into the middle of the corridor, his mouth already open to cry out.
A force flung him sideways, throwing him into the same wall detail he had hidden behind and leaving him to slip down onto the floor. Light shone on the black warrior's armour as it pursued the fleeing figures, its long strides eating up the gap between them. More joined it, running down the hall after their quarry.
As the last one passed, Jack didn't hesitate. He jumped up and took off in a limping run after them.
He couldn't bridge the gap.
Turning the corner, he saw Teal'c's face clearly for the first time, and realised the third person was Jacob, his hand on his daughter's arm, urging her on. They stopped at a door, Jacob pushing frantically at the control panel.
Then it happened. Teal'c's gaze caught his and Jack was sure he saw a flash of recognition.
He had been found. They would rescue him.
He would be going home.
He blinked as Teal'c turned and followed Carter and Jacob through the now open door.
No!
They would be waiting for him on the other side. Of course they had to get rid of the kull things that were chasing them first.
Jack made it to the opening, squeezing through the damaged panels and out onto the same walkway by which he had entered the base. For the first time in weeks he felt the rush of fresh air on his face as the wind buffered him, making him almost lose his already precarious footing. He ran, staggered, and ran as if his life depended on it.
Because it did.
Up ahead a tel'tac hovered, its bottom kissing the surface of the landing pad. One by one his friends jumped into the craft. He expected them to turn to blast the pursuing warriors away and reach out a hand to haul him in.
His breath burnt in his throat. His heart beat wildly, as if about to burst.
His leg gave out and he toppled down.
And watched in disbelief as the ship his salvation lifted, turned, and left him there.
He didn't resist when kicked onto his back.
He didn't protest when dragged back to the torture chamber.
He didn't utter a sound as he was beaten.
But something inside him died.
**********
He woke with the taste of fear in his mouth and the knowledge that somewhere in amongst all the torture and the pain he had found his path.
**********
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