"Hero"
Part 1
by Osiris Brackhaus

 

Would you tremble, if I ask you to dance?
Would you run, and never come back?
Would you scream, if I touched you now?
I don't care, you're mine tonight.

Would you swear, that you'll always be mine?
Or would you cry, if I kissed your lips?
Would you die for the one you love?
Oh you will save my soul tonight.

You will be my hero baby,
You will wash away my pain.
You will stay with me forever,
I will take your breath away

(Popular Eubian Ballad)

Could he have known?

When his team first encountered this race, they had seemed so... cultured, so graceful.

Their rigid caste-system seemed as just as such a system could be, all in one a race of high ethics, well organised, with an amazingly rich culture and technology.

Daniel looked up to the wristguards that held his hands immobile above his head, fixed to the wall and tried to force down that slight note of despair that was about to swallow him.

How could he only have made such a mistake?

They had called them the 'Eubian Concord', had presented themselves as a very diplomatic, very interested people, who seemed to be very content with being ruled by an Emperor and a scattering of noble families.
First, Daniel had been put off by the strong emphasis the nobility, the 'Aristos', put on having 'pure' bloodlines. Put the more he learned, the more he saw that it was a part of their culture, deeply ingrained in everyone, and though he loathed to admit it, it seemed to work better than any other system he had seen so far on Earth.

He moved in a vain attempt to check if there was any possibility to get out of his restraints, but there was none.
The Eubians were exceedingly apt in keeping slaves.

Forcing down another wave of despair, he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Daniel felt his heart racing in his chest, and though he tried not to think about why he had woken up in this room, chained to the wall, he already knew that the answer would be more than unpleasant.

How could he have overlooked such an immense part of the Eubian culture, of the minds of every Aristo he had encountered so far?

There had been moments, of course, where he had got the impression they were hiding something. But that's the same on every diplomatic mission. Daniel would rather have turned suspicious if it had not been so.

But he should have noticed.

Already the first time he stood face to face with an Aristo, he should have seen it, should have felt it!

It has been a minor member of the Diamond Aristo Caste, in charge of trading-arrangements of the sector they had first stepped through the respective stargate.

The very moment this man had entered the room, Daniel felt this wave of vertigo, that slightly tugging, almost magnetic sensation in his head. And how the other had stared at him, stopping in mid-track, his ruby-red eyes fixed on Daniel's, his pale face void of any expression.

This Aristo had quickly returned to his polite, noncommittal behaviour, but in retrospective had tried to ignore Daniel as much as possible.

And Daniel Jackson, most sensitive mind in the whole SG1-Team, had set this moment aside as being no more than his imagination running amok, sparked by the Aristo's almost perfect looks, his composure, his overall grace and determination.

And he would never have even thought of pointing out to anyone in the team that he had a liking for men. How could he? The colonel's remarks would have been more than painful, and surely without end.

So, he had just though that this moment was just his own little perversion showing again, forgot it and went back to normal.

And now, his carelessness had brought him here, chained to the wall of a small room, surrounded by columns of precious, glittering snow-marble. Somewhere, soft music was playing, the same haunting melodies, the same complex and breathtakingly perfect melodies that had impressed even O'Neill.

'Not bad', he had said when they left the concert they had been invited to by another Aristo noble, while Sam was still crying despite her efforts to stay cool. But Daniel had seen the stunned expression in the older man's face during the performance, seen him clench his hands as the music touched his heart just as it did with everyone in the room.

Except, maybe, for the Aristos.

He had thought it due to their rigid adherence to etiquette that they never showed any sign of emotion in public. They smiled and laughed easily enough, but never beyond what their calm dignity allowed.

And they all looked at him as if he were something special.

Every new Aristo they encountered, every single one evoked the same reaction within Daniel: first a wave of vertigo sweeping over him, than a blush he could hardly repress when some less diplomatic ideas came up in his mind.
One could do so many nice thing that would help the understanding between our two races. But in private, please.

And all of them smiled at him as if they shared his ideas. How flattering, especially as most of the Aristos were exceedingly good looking chaps, results of good genes and good body-sculptors, together with a concern for their physical impeccability that bordered on obsession.

All of them were lean, fit, their faces in perfect classical proportions, with fair skin, red eyes, jet-black hair. The mixture between eubian alieness and human likeness made them all the more fascinating, and the tight black uniforms that all of them wore together with their unavailability made it all the harder for Daniel to think of anything else as soon as one of them was around.

So, when they started complimenting him for his perfect grasp of their customs, his witty brilliance and respect for their culture, he only smiled and gracefully accepted every flattery, as they were presented credibly and honestly enough.

If only he would have been a bit more careful!

When they finally asked him to stay behind, to stay some weeks more after his team had left, he only thought it a perfect opportunity to show off his brilliance and maybe get a chance at one of the Aristos without his own team constantly watching him.

And this is why I ended up in this room, Daniel thought, chained, helpless, without any chance of rescue within the next eight weeks, my team back away on Earth, probably all of them taking some weeks off.

He could have cried.

In a way, he probably had gotten exactly what he had asked for all the time, yet it was somehow the exact opposite of it as well.

Daniel had known for a long time that the Eubians held slaves. In fact, a large part of their economy was based on slave labour. But the slaves lived a better live here than even most of the human population back at home, so Daniel had been hard pressed to keep his general position against any kind of slavery.

Also, he had know that among the slaves, there was a class the Eubians named 'Providers'; slaves Daniel at first had seen as something between bodyservants and courtesans.

It was the only thing the guard that had still been with him when he woke up this morning had said; that he was to provide for a member of the highest caste, a Highton Aristo. That he should be proud of this possibility to help such an exalted member of the royal family gain 'Ascension'.

And Daniel wasn't so sure if 'ascending' included any sexual elements or not.
And he wasn't sure what he would prefer.

Once more, a wave of dread rolled up from his stomach, and Daniel closed his eyes again, hoping somehow this all might just fade away into an extravagantly unpleasant dream.
But at the same moment, he knew that he would be disappointed on that.

Daniel had seen more than his share of unpleasant customs during his work with SG1. But whatever his imagination came up with, he couldn't rid himself of that remote feeling of dread that tried to convince him that this here would turn nasty in a way he wouldn't even have dared dreaming of.

Very nasty.

And this time, there would be no Colonel O'Neill popping out of nowhere, saving Daniel. This time, he would have to try on his own.

A bitter laugh was all he managed. He was chained, without any idea how these wristguards could be opened even if he had a key, in an empty room that in all it's perfect beauty, now emanated just a choking, arctic cold.

Once more Daniel wondered why they had left him his overall. They even had left him his glasses; the guard had taken great care to place them on his nose, as awkward as he had seemed with this unusual task.
Not exactly the way I would have presented a courtesan, if ever I were to, Daniel thought.

Great, he thought a moment later. Now I even start accepting the role I am forced into. I must not give in. I am a human being, I have a right to be free, and I definitely am no slave, however nicely they put it.

But, a snug voice in his head started, you'd never even think of making any decent attempt at escape before you didn't at least had a chance to see what gorgeous specimen of this physically perfect race is going to make you 'provide', ne c'est pas?

With a slight sinking feeling, Daniel realised that at least a part of him truly had been looking forward to ... whatever.
But these Aristos were *hot*, in an irritatingly cool way. And so perfect...

I am not that starved; Daniel thought defiantly, trying to regain at least a bit of self-esteem.

Oh, you aren't? Once more that snug voice. So then, dear, when was the last time you had a decent shag? And don't you give me this Sharee-thing again. Love and sex are different things, we both know that.
Yes?
Thought so.

Pathetic pervert.

***

The only source of light in the small room was a large screen, showing an image of Daniel, almost hanging from his chains, obviously demoralised.

Slender, perfectly manicured fingers flicked a commanding gesture, and obediently, the device produced the same image from a different angle.

Two men were present in the room, hardly distinguishable in the darkness, one sitting in front of the screen, the other one standing behind him, watching the images of the restrained human in mutual silence. Every now and then a not-so-controlled breath or a nervous shuffle gave away the tension one of the participants was only partially able to suppress.

Minutes went on, and the man in front of the screen seemed to concentrate fully on the images presented him by the screen, while the other one got more and more irritated until, in a perfectly level voice, the sitting one said:

"Lord Corex, please."

His flawlesly controlled tone made it absolutely clear that he was no going to tolerate the childish behaviour of his partner.

"Your Highness, of course, I will immediately - "

"Corex."

The single word, smooth as silk, cut off the excuse the other man was about to produce as if cut down by a falling rock.

"My honour to serve you, your exalted Highness", Corex replied with a bow as deep as the confines of the small room allowed.

"He will be worth a lot more than you asked of me, if he is truly as exceptionally talented as you say, Corex."

Corex just hesitated the fracture of a second too long not to show his insecurity, before he merely answered:

"Yes, your Highness."

"What a luck that the other nobles interested in your little precious have met their lamentable ends in utterly unfortunate accidents."

"Yes, your Highness, so unfortunate. These are dangerous times, your Highness, and one should take all precautions possible not to end up dead."

Lord Corex almost choked on something like 'or worse', but he managed. Barely.

"True, my dear Corex, one single misstep, one small negligence can lead to such an untimely demise nowadays. - Or making promises one cannot hold up to.", the other Noble added, not even making an effort of veiling the threat in his words.

"Oh, your Highness, I am sure I have taken any precaution possible to secure my prolonged well-being."

"Yours, and the one of your family as well, dear friend? I hope so."

Except for a soft, choking sound, the room was silent for several moments.

"Your Highness, I - Your Highness are most gracious in considering my humble offer."

"I know."

***

In Daniel's mind, hours had passed. He still was hanging in this exclusively blank room, chilled to the bone by its icy, perfect beauty.

But, nonetheless, he had managed to get over some of the worst of his shock. And his self-loathing concerning his... anticipation.

He would definitely go and see a therapist once he got back to Earth safely. A sociologist and linguist is of no use to the team if he gets distracted by every tight trouser or flashy smile he encounters.

And it wouldn't get me into this kind of situations anymore, Daniel thought with a certain grimness, tugging at his cuffs once again just for the defiance.

Only thing I have to do, he thought, is manage to survive. All else, we can sort out later once I am back on Earth.

If.

Whatever.

The muffled, swishing sound of the opening door was the first sound Daniel had heard in his beautiful cell since his guard had left.

His head jerked up to see who was entering, and he drew in his breath in a stunned gesture of amazement.

Truly, all the Aristos he had met had been handsome, smooth, flawless. But also, all of them had given the impression of trying to fit into some kind of example, like a mould.

The man who entered the room with two guards flanking him seemed to be what they were all aspiring to.

Just a few inches taller than Daniel, this Aristo sported wider shoulders than most of the men he had seen around here, narrow hips just wide enough not to seem thin and carried himself with a grace and regality that hinted at more training than just regular visits at his personal body-sculptor.

But it was not the perfect proportions of the noble's body that caught Daniel's breath, nor the fact that his skin was almost as smooth and white as the icy marble around him, that his eyes were like deep-red gems or that his shoulder-length jet-black hair glittered with an almost crystalline sparkle.
For unmarred by all this flawlessness, this man emanated character, determination, sensuality.
His cheekbones were maybe a bit too prominent to fit into the classical eubian ideals, giving his face an almost triangular shape, his jawline strong and determined, his lips surprisingly sensual.
And, instead of the slightly aloof detachedness so common in the eyes of most Aristos, this one's eyes were full of interest, brilliant, yet somehow giving the impression that this one noble hid some deep grief, some sorrow he never would be able to share with anyone.

Daniel thought he was breathtaking, in the very sense of the word, and he'd gladly assist him with whatever this man would want of him.
Whatever the member of SG1 had thought before, in this moment he was convinced to his very heart that this man belonged to a superior class.

But before he got to make closer acquaintance with the Highton, one of the noble's guards stepped up beside his Lord, and before the Aristo had time to react, hit Daniel square in the face with his elbow, all the while grinning like an addict.

Pain shot through the human's head, thundering like a gunshot, blossoming like an ugly flower, all the more agonising as the blow had come without warning, completely unanticipated.

As the pain receded, Daniel felt warm moisture dripping over his lips, his chin, his chest.
Great. Nosebleeding; he thought. Perfect for a first date.

Opening his eyes, still fearing another blow, he saw several guards standing around the noble, staring in Daniel's general direction, apparently in shock.
Next thing he noticed was the huge amount of blood splattering the floor around him, to a degree even the columns and walls of the small chamber.

Impossible that this all could have been his, he thought, searching for the source of the mess before better knowledge could stop him.
And, consequently, almost lost his last meal as he realised the corpse lying in front of his feet, his guardian's uniform ripped apart in the back, huge lumps of flesh and bone missing as if blasted by manifold internal explosions.

Somewhere in the back of Daniel's head, someone began to recite what he had learned about eubian weapons technology, that it truly ripped apart solid matter by triggering matter/antimatter reactions on a subatomic level by using a beam of highly accelerated abitons – but seeing what happened to living flesh when exposed to this technology made him retch anyway.

But retching without being able to breathe through one's nose is a tricky business, and before soon Daniel found himself coughing, sneezing, spitting all at once, desperately hoping not to choke on a clod of blood or worse.

This grisly and completely undignified scene made Daniel even forget about that gorgeous Aristo in the same room with him, and consequently was all the more surprised when several gentle pairs of hands started helping him, tilting up his head so he could breathe without swallowing more blood, cleaning his face, spraying him with some medically-perfumed mist.
And unlocking his chains.

As the enormity of this hit his mind, Daniel blinked in astonishment, looking around to see some reason for this sudden change of treatment he obviously had gained by untraceable means. But the first thing that jumped into focus was the mutilated carcass of the dead guard, being dragged out of the room by his feet, leaving a smeared trail of blood and ... other fluids.

Anew sickened by this sight, he searched on, soon enough his eyes locking on the imposing figure of the Aristo, who stood in the back of the room, issuing orders in a low, definitely unamused voice. He was not speaking the standard Eubic, but elusive Highton, a melodious, highly sophisticated language only used by the upper families of the Aristo hierarchy. As the servants around Daniel helped him over to sit in one of the elegant ebony chairs that somehow had appeared out of nowhere, the Highton looked up, his cool eyes meeting with Daniel's, staying locked, with the slightest hint of positive amazement.

Already the simple fact of being stared at like this would have been more than enough to make the human blush in the most brilliant shades of purple, the stress of the last moments and the sheer, disbelieving admiration he saw hinted in the carnelian depth of the Eubian's eyes made him think his face had to be glowing.
And as always, the tiny bit of coolness he would have needed to return this look with a charming smile deserted him completely, and all that was left was a growing sense of mortification, partially based on his general ineptness to be anything but a nerd, partially due to the fact that once again, he was swooning over a man, and an alien at that.

With an effort, Daniel managed to take his eyes off the Noble, hoping this awkward moment would just fade away as all the other, numerous awkward moments in his life.
But as the silence that had spread during the few moments that the two unlike men had their eyes locked just seemed to stretch into eternity, he had to look up to see what strange thing caused this irregularity.

And could have beaten himself for giving in to his curiosity. All people in the room, from the simplest slave to the Highton himself, were staring at him, all except the Aristo irritated, the noble with a blank expression, void, motionless.

As a new wave of mortification welled up inside him just for spite, he noticed with a part of his mind that some people seemed to react far stronger to him than naturally should be possible: some guards averted their eyes, some others made a step in his direction, their faces strained not to meld into masks of slack-jawed disbelief.

Trying to find any reason for this obvious behavioural bias, the scientifically trained sociologist in him kicked into full gear, distracting Daniel from his unpleasant situation and his hopeless dreams. And even as his own mind sobered, he watched the Eubians around him blink and return to activity, turning back on their respective tasks.

As the noble went on to issue orders, Daniel watched in amazement as a table was carried into the small room, quickly followed by another ebony chair, table-linens, plates, countless things.
Within moments, a whole diner for two was set out in the small, glittering white room.

Wondering why the Aristo had sent away most of the ever-present guards, ordering others instead, Daniel observed more servants as they carried in food, dainty little things, their enticing smell reminding Daniel that he hadn't eaten anything since he went to bed last night.

Before he was imprisoned.

With irritation he looked at the two servants who, with gentle persistence, began to clean his hands, washing away the crusted blood on his face and throat with impeccable mindfulness. They even brushed his hair and cleaned his glasses, obviously making him 'presentable'.

Observing the constant exchange in personnel, Daniel came to the conclusion that the Aristo apparently lowered the ranks of the guards in presence, leaving only employees of the lowest ranks - an unheard-of decision for any Eubian Noble of any standing. What was this utterly concentrated, thoughtful person trying to achieve by sorting out any staff that had a higher ranking, usually connected to at least some drops of noble blood in their veins?

What was different between a high-ranking officer with some noble parentage to one without any rank?

Watching the servants bustle around, Daniel noted with half his mind that they obviously were leaving his glittering cave one by one, obviously finished with whatever they had been doing.

If only he were able to figure out how all these things fit together. As soon as he knew why he was treated like this, he just might find out how to get out of it...

His eyes wandered through the room as if searching for the solution to his problems somewhere on the walls.
The only thing he noticed, though, were the bloody splatters and smears on the white marble, that somehow, most irritatingly had been left untouched by the servants who so diligently had cleaned Daniel. Suddenly, the whole room seemed to be void of other people, leaving only Daniel, the Highton, the diner, and the shredded rests of the first guard in the room.

Against his will his look focused on a bigger lump on one of the columns, something Daniel's thorough medical education identified correctly as lunge-tissue, as it slowly lost its cohesion to the shiny surface and dropped to the mirroring ground, hitting with a sickening wet noise, adding some more crimson drops to the mess on the ground.

Who had shot this guard in the first place anyway, Daniel wondered. And why?

He was the one who slapped me.
He was the highest-ranking person in the room except the Highton.

What the hell am I triggering in people who are partially of noble birth, Daniel asked himself with urgency, completely ignoring the fact that it might be far more revealing to think about what the hell he triggered in people with the complete set of Aristo genes.

But he had no chance to pursue either of these thoughts, as the Highton apparently now had decided to start his 'date' with Daniel.

With a polite nod, he moved over to the table and sat down, smiling politely, smoothly, completely noncommitive.

"I have to apologise for the overzealous treatment my servants issued on you. I hope you are better again", the noble said, his voice a perfect, resonating baritone.

Once more fascinated by the looks and now the fitting voice of the Eubian facing him, Daniel needed some time to realise exactly what he had said.
The noble spoke the standart eubic with a heavy Highton accent, slurring the syllables every here and there, giving a new sensuality to the usually stiff Eubic language.

'He's got an accent!', Daniel thought, swooning despite himself.

'He's the one who's imprisoned you here', that bloody snug voice in his head replied. 'Shouldn't you be doing anything else but swooning over him?'

'Who cares', the human replied impatiently. 'Gods, it sounds as if he's got a french accent! He's fucking gorgeous!'

'He's a fucking killer. And probably mad.'

'So what?'

Confronted with such overwhelming odds of hormone-driven ignorance, even that snug voice gave up, leaving Daniel free to run after his own, messy, painful doom.

 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Osiris Brackhaus

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