The world consists of a sprawling complex for criminals, underground for the most part. That is where the similarities to Hadante end. The surface—sunside, as the Cenarians say—is barren of all life. There is dirt, and dust, and rocks, and nothing else. The Stargate is a few miles north, but there is no DHD, and as far as Daniel can tell, no ouside source of power.
He doesn't like what he's become in this place. He's become something dark, something of this world he lives in. He's killed. He's sold his body. And when he thinks of it now, he isn't ashamed. He had to do it to survive. In here, that's all that matters. He doesn't like it, but he isn't ashamed.
Daniel doesn't know why he was thrown in here; nobody explained anything to him. He was knocked out, and woke up in a narrow cot, with dirty, hard faces jeering at him. Now the faces don't jeer. They crumble.
He knows what type of man these people fear, and when he thinks of it, he hates that he's that man. He hates that he can walk into a room and stop all conversation; hates the grovelling and the snivelling. He hates that when he says something, people listen--not out of respect, but out of fear. He hates that when he gives and order, it is followed, no questions asked. He hates that his anger make people cringe and he hates that their fear makes them obedient. When he thinks about it.
Carissa taught him how to defend himself. She was the previous Daisho--the leader. She took a liking to his innocence, and she took a liking to destroying it. Daniel paid for his lessons in blood and sex. But he learned, and when the time was right, he killed her.
She wouldn't be the last he killed.
He became Daisho, and for the first few months his position was contested by even the weakest of the criminals. Daniel could not sleep without fear of attack. It was only a network of spies and protectors that he had set up under Carissa's nose that saved him. They were still loyal to him, every one.
Every aspiring usurper was dealt with. Some in a very public manner. Daniel earned a reputation for ruthlessness, for cruelty. And when he saw this, he nodded in satisfaction, because that meant he could sleep at night without fear of assassination, and he could eat and drink without fear of poison.
He took the complex on Cenaris and made it it his. He stopped the violence, and the rape, and everything he had experienced. If the price were a few men here, a few women there, he paid it. He made the Cenarians pay it.
There were still attempts on his life, but they were foiled. Those that were not killed on sight were given public deaths: hangings, beheadings; a few were drawn and quartered to the immense satisfaction of the Cenarians. None became martyrs. In a world where it's kill or be killed, where the people are only capable of looking out for themselves, there is no such thing as martyrdom.
Then, two years after Daniel had become Daisho, five years after Daniel had arrived, SG-1 comes blazing through the 'gate. To save him.
When Daniel hears that come from the breathless lips of Leuitenant Colonel Samantha Carter, he laughs. He's not sure if there is something left to be saved.
He goes with them, because even though he understands Cenaris, this world of kill or be killed, he has never stopped longing for his home, for the SGC. Even when the bleakness of his prison leached his innocence, and then his hope away, he still longed for his adoptive family.
He knows the 'rescue' will not be easy. He's proved right when the Cenarians realize that Daniel has a way out, and begin to gather. Daniel recognizes the signs of danger.
The Cenarians never have a Daisho for long. Regicide, as it is, is common—Daniel knows this. The Cenarians are much too unsettled, unhappy, unloving to care for a leader, and are much too ambitious and desperate to let one say alive for long. Killing Daniel will not trouble them.
SG-1 is being followed by a huge, silent mob. The others are on edge. Daniel's mind is whirling, trying to figure out how to escape the inevitable confrontation. He is somewhat calmed to see those loyal to him in the crowd, ready to defend him, but he knows they will not take action unless he tells them to. And he can't very well tell them to kill all the inhabitants of the complex.
So he stops, and turns to face them. None of them have weapons, but Daniel knows very well that anything can become a weapon. Jack and Teal'c and Sam stop as well, shifting uneasily.
One of the men in front bends to pick up a stone. Others follow suit.
Daniel says, calmly, "Jack. Gun." Jack hesitates; this is not the man he knew, and until he knows what happened on this world, Jack isn't sure Daniel should have a weapon. Daniel doesn't even turn to look at his former commanding officer. He says again, his voice soft and deadly, "Jack. Gun."
He has an air of someone who is used to being obeyed, and obeyed he is. Before even registering the movement, Jack has given Daniel his P-90. Without hesitating, Daniel sets the automatic to single-shot, aims, and shoots the man in the hand. The man drops the stone with a howl of pain, and the others pause.
"I won't be so generous next time," Daniel says, his voice quiet but pitched to carry. He thinks his threat has worked, until he hears a yelp of pain. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sam holding her arm, and a large, sharp rock on the ground. Already there is a growing stain on Sam's sleeve. Daniel flicks the P-90 to automatic, and fires on the first person he sees. It doesn't matter if she threw the rock at Sam. The message is loud and clear.
The others shrink back from the dead woman full of holes, eyes wide and fearful. Daniel doesn't even blink at the blood soaking into the ground. He turns, and walks toward the 'gate. He doesn't give the P-90 back.
Daniel can feel the stares of SG-1 on his back. They make the hairs on the back of his neck prick, and he instinctively tenses his muscles, ready for anything. While he's waiting for Sam hook up the power source they've brought, he looks at Jack.
What he sees in Jack's eyes is something akin to pity, and something akin to fear. Jack drops his eyes first. Daniel stares a moment longer at Jack, then turns his eyes to the 'gate as it opens in a great flash of sound and light. Something in his heart, or what he figures is left of it, warms at the familiar sight.
Sam punches in her code, then recieves the all-clear. She walks through, throwing little, worried glances over her shoulder at Daniel. Jack purses his lips, and follows her. Teal'c looks at Daniel.
"Go," Daniel says. "I'll be right behind you."
Teal'c considers him a moment more, then nods. Daniel is a step behind. He is about to cross the event horizon when his instincts kick in, and he ducks. A rock flies over his head and into the wormhole. He turns and stands simultaneously, brings the gun up, and shoots. There is a cry of pain, and Daniel heaves himself through. He falls into a roll on the other side when he hits the ramp. He's up in a second, yelling, "Close the iris!"
One man manages to make it through the 'gate before the iris seals it. There are two more thumps, and then the Stargate disengages with an elecrical fizz. Daniel is moving even before the Marines do, throwing the P-90 off to the side and then falling to a crouch. He sweeps his foot out in an arc, knocking the other Cenarian to the floor. He pulls his foot back in and springs at the Cenarian, but the other man is rolling out of the way. Daniel lands on his hands, and goes into another controlled tumble that sends him up facing the Cenarian. The man shoots his hand out, palm first, aiming for Daniel's neck. Daniel dodges and siezes the wrist in an iron grip, twisting. The Cenarian struggles, but Daniel quickly has him subdued, both arms locked behind him. The other man is still, because the way Daniel has his arms makes any movement painful. There is a reason Daniel was Daisho.
Then Daniel looks up.
Jack, Sam and Teal'c are all looking at him in awe and fear from the bottom of the ramp. The Marines have a wary respect on their faces, paired with disbelief. General Hammond and several technicians are standing in the control room, but Daniel can't make out their faces. He suddenly feels as if he's entered enemy territory with no allies, no friends, no one to watch his back.
The 'gate room is completely silent except for Daniel's and the Cenarian's harsh breathing.
"Dr Jackson?" Hammond's voice is laced with uncertainty, hope, and, yes, a little bit of fear.
Daniel manages to dredge up a smile, and honest-to-goodness smile, not a smirk of satisfaction or superiority. "Good to be home, General."
But he's not quite sure this is home any more.