Author's note: Thanks for the reviews and hits, hope you're all liking it. I'm getting this one out early in the hopes of making this a Monday tradition. :D Enjoy!
x.x.x.x.x.x
Jack woke up with one of the worst hangovers he'd ever had. Cracking open his eyes, he hurriedly closed them again, involuntarily groaning as stabs of pain pierced his skull.
He felt a light touch on his arm. Jack didn't think, he just reacted, pain or no pain. Twisting his arm to catch the other person in his grip, Jack sat up quickly and forced his eyes open. As soon as his vision cleared, he suddenly realized he was gripping a child who looked nothing more than scared to death. Not at all like a threat.
With another groan, Jack released the young boy and rubbed at his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said into his hands, and then tiredly looking up, added, "You startled me is all."
"Yes sir," the boy stuttered. His small frame shook as he stood staring up at Jack with wide eyes, backed up against the table next to the bed.
Jack sighed with regret. He hated making mistakes like that. "I'm Jack," he offered in as non-threatening a tone of voice as possible, but the kid just continued to stare at him. "What's your name?" Jack gently asked.
"Chod, sir." The boy answered, and then turning to a well-laden tray on the table, said, "I was told to bring you something to eat, sir."
Jack frowned, firmly ignoring his stomach until he'd had a good look around. He was back in the same room he'd been in the night before, no doubt with the same guards outside his door. The boy in front of him was also a slave, and dressed in white, a purple stripe going down his side, and barefoot. That's when Jack realized he was similarly dressed, only in black with a white stripe.
Reaching up he felt the metal collar around his neck. It was solid, smooth, with almost seamless lines where it connected. Looking at Chod's collar, Jack guessed the metal was trinium. Trinium wasn't something someone easily purified and forged, nor was this collar some simple piece of technology. Omila's demonstration proved that. What baffled Jack was where did this technology come from?
He looked again at the platter and realized he'd have to eat at some point. "Care to join me, Chod?" Jack asked.
"No thank you, sir. I've already eaten." The boy was polite if anything else.
"Don't call me sir," Jack told him, he got enough of that at home. "I'm just like you. Call me Jack."
"Yes Jack, sir," Chod automatically responded, and Jack chuckled.
"Got any idea what this is?" Jack asked, curiously picking up a safe looking piece of fruit. He bit into it and almost spit it out again. How do you get spicy sweet fruit!
The boy giggled at Jack's reaction and, visibly calming down, replied. "It is a queesh, sir. Very highly nutritious."
"Uhuh. I bet Daniel'll like it. And it's Jack." He motioned to the bed, inviting the kid to sit next to him. Obediently the young boy slid up on the bed, watching with wide curious eyes and more frequent smiles as Jack played with everything on the platter before actually tasting it. Just to make the boy laugh, Jack ate a few of the odd spicy fruits, making faces in mock dislike each time.
After a while of giggling, and watching Jack consume his first meal in a long time, the boy finally gained the courage to ask his first question. "How is it you don't know what any of this is?"
"Well Chod. I come from a place called Earth. And on Earth we don't have food like this." Jack told him with a warm smile. Thankfully the hangover was fading away. Plus it felt good to have a reason to smile again.
"What kind of foods do you have?"
"Oh, you know, apples, bananas, pizza, ice cream. You haven't experienced life until you've had ice cream," Jack told him sagely.
Chod's eyes lit up, but in the next minute dimmed again. "That won't be possible for me, will it, sir?"
Feeling a pang of guilt, Jack rubbed the kid on the back and said with a tight expression, "You never know Chod, you never know."
But Chod stood up, smiling at Jack, and politely asked, "Are you done with you meal, sir?"
"Ya. Sure." The kid bowed to him, and picking up the awkwardly large platter walked to the door. It opened before he even got there, which surprised Jack. It meant someone had been watching. After the boy left and the door was closed again, Jack got up and started really searching his little room. He hadn't thought of this world as all that advanced. Okata had had some technology, but not really a lot, and while the collars were a mystery, they could feasibly be explained as remnants of a different society, like the goa'uld. Now he was beginning to doubt that initial assessment.
It took him a while to find it, but the camera was located amongst the rest of the ceiling tiles, blending in quite smoothly. It wasn't like the cameras back home, but it was a camera, of that much he was certain.
And it was right after he'd pulled the table over and climbed up on it to tap on the supposed camera that his door opened again. "Hey Rakel, what's up?" Jack asked with a thin grin, jumping down. If he was going to be a nuisance to these people, he might as well be a large one.
"Come with me, Jack," Rakel stated, glowering at him.
"Sure thing. No problem'o." Jack followed him out and inwardly smirked as the two guards by his door also followed. Even with the collar they still considered him a threat. Part of him wanted them to keep thinking that, to determine him an unworthy servant, and a part of him wanted to see Daniel, and to get them the hell out of there. But it was too late now to pretend to be docile; it wouldn't have worked, anyway. He knew the look Rakel had given him when he was being sold. The same look Jack gave anyone his gut told him not to trust.
They escorted Jack into the same room in which he'd been so wondrously 'collared' in. It seemed to be Omila's main office. She was there, writing on some sheets of paper as she looked between one stack and the next. Another slave was there, dressed in black like Jack. It was the same guy who'd shown up on the estate steps with the message the day or so before. He stood next to Omila with several papers in hand and gave Jack a heated look before his features schooled themselves back to their carefully matriculated pleasantness.
Inwardly Jack sighed. This guy was going to be a problem if they ever came head to head.
Omila looked up from her notations and seeing Jack, smiled, motioning him closer. "Come here, Jack."
This time Jack outwardly sighed, drawing it out as he glanced at his escort. "Sure. Whatever." Crossing his hands behind him he casually sauntered over to the desk. Omila just smiled, her eyes flickering with humor, but the slave stiffened instantly from Jack's behavior. The man was practically shooting daggers from his eyes.
Jack glanced down at the papers, not so surprised to see that the writing wasn't in English but some odd strange alien language he'd never be able to translate. Carter never had sufficiently explained that phenomenon to him. For some reason most people they came across seemed to speak English, but they never wrote in it or anything else remotely similar. The Tok'ra would say English was just such an easy language to learn, but Jack believed it was the Stargate itself doing it. That when it was putting them all back together it just automatically put their verbal synapses together in such a way that they were speaking the downloaded native tongue. The stargate was, after all, just some big strange alien computer of sorts. Or something like that.
"Do you know how to read and write, Jack?"
"Yes, but not in your language." Omila looked up at him with a questioning look, so Jack expounded. "We may be speaking the same language, but trust me when I say we're not. I learned to write and read English. Americanese, not British, and most definitely not," he motioned at her desk scrunching his face as he tried to think of a good term, "Bethroese, or whatever the hell you call it."
"Okatan," Omila supplied, her eyes still laughing.
But the slave obviously didn't find Jack funny at all and harshly spit out, "You do not talk to the Lady Omila this way!"
Jack just ignored the man, and silently wished he had some pockets for his hands to complete his casual ensemble of 'whatever'. He wouldn't mind some pockets even if that wasn't the case.
The slave's face reddened from Jack's silent shake off, but was quickly called to attention by Omila. "Thimen." The slave gave one last hated look at Jack, and then meekly bowed his head in submission. "Take these to the Chaskin." She told him, handing the slave several more papers.
"At once, my lady."
Jack watched the man leave, the heat of anger still visible on Thimen's neck. It was the first real sign for Jack that despite them all being slaves here, there was still some sort of hierarchy and for some reason Omila was letting Jack jump all over it.
The woman stood then, smiling as she looked to the door Thimen had left through. "He will be your enemy I fear."
"I'm everyone's enemy here. Especially yours," Jack stated bluntly.
"I highly doubt Chod would call you an enemy," Omila amiably replied and headed for the main door.
Damn! Jack had hoped that they hadn't been watching his show of kindness to the kid, but he hoped even harder that Omila wouldn't try using the kid against him, because in the end it wouldn't work. He'd only have one more reason to hate himself.
Omila turned at his silence, but frowned at his expression. Apparently it wasn't what she was expecting. Turning back to the guards at the door, she motioned to Rakel. "I will be fine now." Then looking at Jack, she ordered, "Come with me."
Silently Jack followed her out into the hall, watching as Rakel left final instructions with the two guards that would end up being his constant escort, before vanishing down the hall.
He watched everyone they passed, and took in as much of the layout as he could. He'd hoped to see Daniel along the way, but there wasn't a sign of him and while they were entering a library, a natural home to Daniels the universe over, he wasn't there either.
Omila took him to the back of the expansive library where a slave in white, red stripe, and not a few gems around his collar was putting books away. "Othwen."
The slave turned around at her call, smiling and bowing as he greeted, "my lady, what can I do for you?"
"Othwen, this is Jack, you will be teaching him how to read and write."
Jack instantly objected, "Don't bother. I've had my fill of alien languages, thanks."
"I can not use you if you do not know our language. Would you rather the mines?"
"Honestly? Yes."
Omila pursed her lips in dissatisfaction, but then asked, "And what of your friend? Would you care for him to be in the mines?"
Double damn! This woman seemed to have an intuition for his weak spots. "All right, fine. Othwen is it? Let's go over our ABC's," Jack not too happily consented.
Othwen looked at Jack with the most perplexed look on his face. "ABC's?"
Jack just glowered in return, but Omila seemed satisfied and left them, Jack's guards setting up watch nearby. Jack couldn't believe he'd been sold as a slave only to have to learn some new alien language. Did the universe hate him or something?
After Othwen had them settled at a table with a fair amount of paper and something akin to pencils, the slave turned to Jack and commented with a smile. "I've never seen anyone, much less a slave talk to Lady Omila like that before without getting flogged."
"Ya, well, I want to be flogged," Jack groused. "So if she did she'd only be fulfilling my own desires."
Othwen gave him a peculiar look, then shrugged it off and started Jack's first lesson in learning the Okatan alphabet. Othwen wasn't such a bad guy, naturally friendly to everyone, and immensely patient. Must be a bookworm thing, Jack reasoned after the third day of struggling through the lessons.
Omila had ordered this as Othwen's only duty until they were finished, so Jack spent the entire day with him from morning till dusk trying to squeeze the foreign symbols and their meaning into his memory. The rest of his time was spent closeted away under lock and key alone in his room. He barely saw anyone, and only could really talk to Othwen, which, while the guy was great, he wasn't really up to Jack's kind of conversations. Jack swore the guy was completely devoid of any humor. After every wisecrack the man would just smile and nod and go right on with the lesson.
Then, on the fourth day of his continued learning, Jack finally got his first glimpse of Daniel. The anthropologist was carrying a bucket and mop and crossing the main hall behind a string of others with mops and buckets, their Overseer following at the tail end of the line.
Daniel stopped the second he noticed Jack of course and had to prodded back into motion. The groups crossed paths in the hall, but Daniel's group obligingly swerved out of the way of Jack and his usual escort. As they passed, Jack and Daniel exchanged looks and brief nods but then they were moving away.
Right before he was about to leave the hall, Jack looked behind him to the corridor Daniel's group was passing into. Something had to be done, and soon.
Jack's mind wasn't focused on the work Othwen put to him as he thought over the sighting. It'd confirmed at any rate that Daniel was okay. He looked fit, fed, healthy. That was a comfort at least. But there was still the problem that Omila knew how to get to him now, and Jack somehow knew the longer they stayed the more and more they would feel obligated to help every slave here. They needed to leave. Today.
"Jack would you write the word stock for me."
Jack did.
"That's not correct." And Jack heard Othwen actually sigh in frustration. He looked down at what he'd written, startled to see that he had written the word stock, but not in Okatan, not even in English, but in the language of the Ancients.
"Sorry," Jack mumbled, scratching it out and writing it correctly, earning him a slightly more relieved smile on Othwen's face.
The slave scholar gave Jack a critical look. "Is something the matter? You've been preoccupied all morning."
Jack sighed, looking about the library. It was empty at the moment but for their little group. These occasions happened Jack knew. He'd been measuring the normal traffic flow through here since he first started these lessons. If it held to pattern, the library would remain empty till the afternoon. "Yes, Othwen, yes, something is wrong," Jack stated to the man.
He got up, stretching his legs and leaving Othwen in his confusion as he walked steadfastly up to the watching Guardsmen. "I want to see Lady Omila."
They looked at each other, thrown off balance by Jack's sudden demand. Jack used the opportunity to his best advantage. They may have been clothed in thick leather armor, but Jack had far more experience and training then they ever had at hand to hand combat, and within just a minute Jack had successfully managed to knock them both unconscious before either of them had had a chance to activate his collar.
Standing up from his fallen victims, Jack turned back with a smirk to the startled scholar, and with a mock solute, simply said, "See ya!" Then Jack turned and quickly disappeared down the vacant hallway.
A large downfall to the Guardsmen using the collar method for control was that they didn't carry any weapons of their own, at least not inside the estate. Jack figured he'd just have to make do. He didn't have long before an alarm would be raised. He had to get to Daniel and then get them out.
The first time he came across a crowded hall, Jack decided to take a chance, and striding out boldly let his clothes of supposed rank carry him through. As he predicted, everyone parted for him. He still knew that wouldn't last for long, especially not with the Guardsmen. Spying one around the corner, Jack waited and watched for a minute, his fears rising as he realized the man was talking into something. What was it? A radio? Knowing about the camera, it suddenly didn't seem so improbable. Jack quickly dashed down a different hall.
He just had to stay out of the way, in the side halls, but he hadn't really had much time to scope the place out and soon realized he'd already gotten himself horribly lost. Why did they always have to make palaces and the such so damn big!
To make matters worse, as he rounded the corner he came face to face with Rakel. Jack felt the pain for a brief second before it cut out again as he quickly backtracked out of the line of sight. But before long there were other Guardsmen there, and the pain blossomed into full life. For one agonizing moment Jack fell to his knees, his hand automatically seeking the offending collar. Yet, through the pain, Jack's anger rose higher, and he stubbornly struggled back to his feet. He was sick of this!
With a growl of frustration, Jack sought out the current perpetrator, then, ignoring the pain that coursed through his body, he jumped towards the man, his foot whipping out and connecting with the Guardsman's wrist with one loud audible crack.
There was a moment of relief before another Guardsmen picked up where the last one left off, but Jack wasn't ready to give in just yet, and using the close quarter combat skills he'd mastered a long time ago, succeeded in doing some serious damage to at least two more men before his vision started blacking out and his body finally gave up on him.
The onslaught stopped, but the pain was far from fading and Jack lay on the floor, clenching his side and gasping for breath with eyes firmly shut tight. He barely registered the hands pulling him off the ground, or that he was being carried. He only knew the pain, and for a long time that's how it remained.
x.x.x.x.x
"Rakel, what happened?" Omila demanded.
This time, Rakel looked very pointedly at Thimen until he was sent on his way, leaving just Omila and her Chief Guardsmen in the room. "My lady. He fought unlike any man I have ever seen fight. He is no slave."
"Yes, we already know that," Omila stated annoyed, and deeply disturbed by the mere fact that her Chief was so distraught.
"No, my lady, I mean he is a danger. You should have him killed, or at the very least put into the mines."
Omila's frown deepened. "Are you really so afraid of him, Rakel?" She finally asked, surprised when he didn't rebuke the remark.
"Today, Omila, I saw that man take down three of my best men all while under the influence of the collar."
Omila gasped. You cannot move while under the collar's influence, it just wasn't possible, but Rakel only continued with his dreadful report. "I found another two of my Guardsmen unconscious in the library. According to Othwen, Jack had done it before anyone could even tell what he was doing." Bristling with frustration, Omila began to pace. It just wasn't possible! "There must be a way to control him."
"My lady, is it really worth it?"
She stopped and looked at her Chief with a set expression. "Yes Rakel, I believe it is."
x.x.x.x.x.x
It'd been over a week since becoming a slave, three days since Daniel had had the fleeting glimpse of Jack in the hall. He'd heard later that day that something had happened. Olem, Daniel's main Overseer, certainly had been keeping him close the last couple of days, but no one seemed to know what exactly had gone down. Daniel wouldn't have been too surprised if he found out Jack had had something to do with it. Whatever it was, security felt thicker now.
Daniel absently let his thoughts wander as he pushed the scrub cloth up and down the tall marble like walls. The building was an amazing structure, far better put together than Daniel would have expected for the level of sophistication he'd seen here so far. It'd taken him the week to get used to the routine, but for the most part, Daniel was now accustomed to the rigors of the job. In fact, serving on SG-1 had helped a lot in preparing him.
He'd even formed a few friends, namely Opith and Kheta. They still didn't ask any questions about Daniel's past, but had some sway within the group and made sure to include Daniel in their conversations.
Right now Opith was scrubbing the wall next to him. Daniel glanced over at the man, regarding him in his thoughts. Opith was older than Daniel, although not by much, and his hair was a dark brown, just like Lady Omila's. Looking closer, Daniel noted several other very subtle features that reminded him of the Okatans they worked for. Daniel stopped his scrubbing with a start.
"You're part Okatan," Daniel softly stated before he even realized he was speaking.
"Quiet!" Opith whispered sharply, his eyes white with alarm, but no one else seemed to have heard and Daniel quickly went back to his work, deeply regretting his slip of the tongue. He seriously hoped he hadn't just placed some sort of permanent wedge between them.
Daniel tried saying something else, but Opith gave him a vicious look and moved to a different wall. Daniel sighed. Ya, he'd messed things up all right.
"Daniel."
Turning in surprise, Daniel finally found who had called his name. It was the Chief Guardsman, and he was motioning for Daniel to approach. Daniel sighed again, and dumping his cloth into the bucket walked up to the Chief where he stood next to Olem.
"You will come with me," Rakel told him, then, with a nod to Olem, left, leaving Daniel no other choice but to follow. He hadn't talked to the Chief since he'd been placed in the Third Order.
But as before, like on that fateful day, Daniel was led into Omila's office. Only Omila was there, and Daniel frowned as he spotted a collar on her desk.
It couldn't be Jack's, could it? Was he…? Daniel couldn't bear to finish the thought but steeled himself anyway for whatever news was to come.
"I've been told that you are a good worker. Honest, quick to help others without forgetting your own tasks," Omila said, coming over to him with the collar in hand. Daniel didn't know what to say and he didn't really trust himself to speak as his eyes remained fixated on the collar she carried.
After a minute of silence he was finally able to pull his gaze up to meet hers. She pursed her lips, and murmured, "Such life you both have."
Have? Daniel almost sighed with relief. She seemed to pick up on his instant change of behavior and a smile touched her lips. "Yes, Daniel. Jack is not dead. This," and she held up the collar. "Is for you."
"What's wrong with the one I've got?" Again the words had come without any real thought. He had to stop doing that, and felt the sharp rap on his skull from behind for his brash words. Daniel cringed, and then added a bit lamely, "My lady?"
Once again Omila's lips were curling into a smile, but she told him firmly. "It is not good enough. Kneel Daniel."
Not good enough? Daniel had no idea how this thing could possibly be any better, or worse, but he knelt as ordered anyway. He watched, curious, as Omila took out some sort of device and handed it to Rakel who now stood directly behind Daniel. Then with a loud click and sharp twang that made Daniel flinch, the collar came off.
But his freedom was short lived as Omila then reached down and fastened the new one in place. Once the gems were transferred it really didn't seem all that different than the other one, although this one did seem to sit a little better around his neck. Daniel sincerely hoped they didn't plan on testing out this 'better' collar, and unconsciously held his breath in worried anticipation until Omila finally motioned him to stand.
"You will see your friend now, Daniel. And you will give him a message for me because I don't think he will hear it from anyone else. The collar you now wear, while it can still be activated by any Guardsmen or Overseer, can also be activated by myself, or Rakel, at anytime from anywhere. And if we should like, we could kill you with it. Will you tell him this for me?"
Numbly, Daniel nodded. His blood had run cold from the moment she started her 'message.' Daniel had no doubt in his mind anymore that Jack had been involved in the incident from three days ago, and this was their method for controlling him. Threatening a member of Jack's team probably was the only way.
He hadn't shaken off any bit of the numbness by the time he was led to Jack's door and admitted into the room. Only the sight of his friend managed to pull him from his guilt filled thoughts. Jack was sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, arms tucked around curled legs while his face lay hidden against his knees. He didn't even look up when Daniel entered.
Frowning with worry, Daniel hesitantly questioned, "Jack?"
The Colonel raised his head to give Daniel a wan smile before hiding his face again and greeted into his legs. "Hey Danny. What are you doing here?"
"They wanted me to see you," Daniel told him, still frowning as he approached and finally sat down on the bed next to Jack. "What, ah…are you okay?"
"Peachy!" came the muffled, but clearly sarcastic reply. Then Jack finally raised his head and tiredly stretched out his tall legs. "I've got one honking headache that just won't go away!" Jack grumbled letting his head fall back against the wall. After a moment of continued silence, Jack sighed, and then looked at Daniel with a shrewd expression. "What are you doing here, really?"
Daniel swallowed, hard. He couldn't lie to Jack. It just wasn't possible. "They, ah, wanted me to give you a message." Jack just waited, but Daniel could see the hardening around the eyes. Jack was steeling himself for the worst. "They gave me a new collar today. One that Omila says can be activated remotely by either herself or Rakel. And, ah, supposedly it can, ah, kill me." It wasn't an easy a thing to say, or even to except.
Jack's expression tightened ever so slightly as he asked, "Do you believe them?"
Daniel hesitated, breaking eye contact from his own shame for being used in this manipulation. "Yes Jack, yes I do."
Beside him he heard a sort of half groan and the legs came up again while Jack once more hid his face. Daniel frowned even harder, then he finally asked, "Jack, what is it they want?" After a week of working with other slaves Daniel knew this was way more effort than any slave owner was likely to put out for the control of a single slave. Especially like this.
"They want me to learn their stinking language."
"I'm sorry, could you say that again?" Daniel was sure he must have misunderstood the mumbled words.
But Jack raised his head and giving Daniel a venomous glower, repeated. "They want me to learn Okatan. I don't know what else after that."
Daniel blinked, and Jack's glower only darkened. "Sorry," Daniel quickly mumbled, but Jack was already hiding his face again. "I just wouldn't have thought…" Daniel awkwardly broke off, flushing slightly with some embarrassment. "What I mean is-"
"Believe me, Daniel." Jack sourly cut him off. "I'd trade spots without a moment's hesitation, if I could."
Right then there was a soft knock at the door and Daniel was afraid they were going to take him away already, but when the door opened only a young boy carrying food came in. Glancing up, Jack softly greeted, "Hey Chod."
"Hey Jack." The boy smiled in return, but then nervously looked to Daniel and setting down the basket of foods on the floor formally told them. "The lady Omila thinks you should stay until after the evening meal."
Daniel nodded. "Thank you."
The boy nodded back, and then with a fleeting smile at Jack quickly left again. After a minute of listening to his stomach noisily yearn after the aromatic smells coming from the large basket, Daniel turned to the unresponsive Colonel. "Are you going to eat?" He asked a little hesitant. Jack's face was still hiding in his legs, but from what Daniel could see Jack didn't really look so well.
"No. But don't let me stop you," came the predicted muffled reply.
Eyebrows furrowing with worry, Daniel slid off the bed and pulled out some of the queesh. "Jack. At least eat this. I promise you'll feel better."
Jack tiredly raised his head and looked first at the spicy fruit and then up at Daniel. "Have you tasted that!"
"It's not that bad." Jack grunted in disagreement. Persisting, Daniel told him, "Kheta thinks it helps dispel the effects of the collar. Come on, what's the worse that could happen?"
"Do I really want to know?" Jack grumbled, but took the fruit and giving it a critical look remarked. "Who'd have funked it. A fruity ibuprofen." He ate four of the little spicy fruits, the most Daniel could force on him, then once again hid his face.
Grabbing some bread to quell his hunger, Daniel slid back onto the bed beside Jack. He didn't really care if they didn't really do anything other than sit there. He was just glad to know he wasn't alone on this alien world.
"Daniel?"
"Ya Jack?"
"Who's Kheta?"
"She's in my Order." Daniel kept his answer short, hesitant to cause Jack any further pain with his headache, but his mind was just itching to tell someone about everything he'd learned so far.
Jack, it seemed, could hear his mind, for after another minute of silence the Colonel quietly ordered, "Tell me." And so Daniel spent the next twenty minutes telling Jack all about his last week working as a slave while Jack sat in his curled ball quietly listening.
As far as anyone else in his Order knew, there were eight Orders in total for the House grounds. And each Order had its own color, but while there wasn't any official rank, those in the First Order had a lot more freedom and privileges.
"I suppose that's the Order you're in," Daniel mused.
Jack raised his head, a slightly confused look on his face. "Why?"
Giving him a wry smile, Daniel told him, "They're the only Order that dresses in black. The rest of us are all in white with our color down the side. It makes a bit more sense, too. Why they'd need to hold a threat over your head at any rate. The First don't usually have anyone watching them." Daniel frowned again. "Jack? What are we going to do?"
Sighing, Jack stretched his legs out and looked at his toes, they were amazingly pale looking sticking out of the black pants. "We're going to keep living, Daniel. I'm going to learn Okatan and you're going to keep cleaning as before. We'll have to go from there."
"I've seen most of the house now, and once you're properly a First you might be able to-" Daniel stopped short as Jack suddenly made the hand motion for 'listening ears,' either that or it was 'mine field ahead.' Daniel never had gotten any of the military gestures properly memorized.
"We have to be careful, Daniel." Jack told him in his no nonsense Colonel tone of voice. Then, with lips quirking with sardonic humor, he explained. "These guys are more advanced than they appear to be. There's a camera in the second ceiling tile from the back."
"You're kidding!" Daniel was shocked, and so naturally had to turn and look up at it. It blended in so neatly that except for a faint difference there wasn't anything else to distinguish it apart. "Are you sure?"
"Trust me."
Daniel turned back to Jack, who seemed to be eyeing the basket now with some interest. "I knew they had electricity, but everything we've seen here or on Okata would suggest a level only at the beginnings of the industrial age."
"Ya think?" Jack remarked, then reached out with a long arm and snatched up a large fruit, similar in looks to an apple. He sniffed at it cautiously before taking a large bite. His eyes closed in bliss as he chewed, and a soft smile crept across his face. "I forgot just how hungry I was."
"I take it your headache is fading?" Daniel asked with a faint smile. He was still thinking on this new discovery of the Okatan's hidden technology. He figured now that he knew what to look for he could probably identify where all the cameras were, too.
"Yes. When we get back we should take some of those spicy fruit things with us. Who knows, queesh may be the remedy for all ailments. Wouldn't that be cool! A fruity fix-it pill." Jack grinned, but then asked, obviously also thinking much like Daniel was. "You've been around the estate, have you seen any Gould technology whatsoever, or any other traces of anyone else we know?"
Daniel thought about it. "Nothing Goa'uld. There were those pain sticks in the city, but nothing here. And the architecture, while faintly Romanist in nature, doesn't point to anything specific." He finally shook his head. "It's too hard to say."
"We've got to figure out where these people came from," Jack told him.
Daniel chuckled, earning a reproachful look. "I just never thought I'd ever hear you say something like that. You've never been interested in the history part of missions before."
"This is different, Daniel. This could really mean something." That of course got Jack a reproachful look from Daniel, but they both smirked.
"Well, if I can get a look at their writing that should go a long way towards telling me their roots. What does it look like?" Daniel asked.
"Like dots and squiggles," Jack said, and then responded quickly to Daniel's glare of disbelief. "It does!" He tried drawing it in the air to describe, but they quickly realized it wasn't going to work.
They continued passing information as they consumed the contents of the basket, and when they ran out of new information they resorted to joking around about the condition of the SGC without their fabled SG1. By the end they had talked about everything but the one thing that had been weighing the heaviest in both their minds.
Daniel leaned back against the wall with a sigh. Then, looking down at his hands, finally asked, "Jack? How do you think Sam is?"
"I try not to think about it," Jack told him quietly.
Daniel glanced at the man, seeing the pain clearly evident in the Colonel's eyes and quickly looked back to his hands, then nervously crossed his arms instead. "I've heard from the others that most aren't like Omila. They're usually not treated so well. That-"
"Daniel," Jack quietly but firmly interrupted, and Daniel looked up startled. Jack was facing him now, the pain still clearly there, but so was his usual stubbornness that oddly was a comfort to see right then. "We'll find her. And we're going to make it home again. It's just going to take some time."
Before he could reply, the door was opening and the Guardsmen were gesturing for Daniel to come out. "I'll see you around, Jack," the anthropologist said, sliding off the bed and giving the Colonel a smile in parting.
Jack full outright grinned. "You betcha!"
When Daniel was led back to his quarters he found it was already near lights out. He hadn't realized just how much time had passed in Jack's room. After the evening meal they were all herded to these rooms they lived in and basically locked inside. They had all the essentials, two long rooms filled with bunks, well equipped communal facilities, their own bathing pool, and even a common room that joined the bunkrooms. Daniel's Order, the Third Order, had one bunkroom with Fourth on the other side. He'd been told similar rooms held Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh, while First, Second, and Eighth each had their own setups. According to Fourth, people lived in the Blue Rooms, a highly restricted part of the House, and then there were the White Rooms, where pregnant woman and the youngest of children lived.
Kheta had told him something about it. She'd given birth once and so had lived there for three years. Not bad at all, in many ways better than what they had here, but she told him in no uncertain terms that she'd never go back. And it wasn't hard to reason why. While slaves were needed to create more slaves, it wasn't the same when they weren't allowed to raise them.
Daniel could see Kheta now, talking hunched over with Opith and Eglish. The anthropologist approached the group somewhat nervously. Since his first day, he'd shared the bottom bunk with Kheta on the top and Opith and Eglish on the bunks next to theirs. After his major foul-up with Opith earlier, that might very well have changed.
Then Eglish caught sight of him and getting the others' attention motioned Daniel over. They were all watching him intently as he neared, but Daniel couldn't see any hatred in Opith's eyes. Maybe a bit of wariness, but they also weren't telling him off, either, so he sat down next to Kheta as he usually did when they were all in conversation.
After a minute of awkward silence Opith calmly asked, "What did the Chief want?"
"They gave me a new collar," Daniel told them.
Eglish's young face furled up in a frown. "What was wrong with the old one?" Opith gave the young man a reproachful look, but Eglish's face only stiffened in rebellion.
Daniel chuckled, feeling all his apprehension fade away with that small sound. The rest gave him some of the most peculiar looks so Daniel explained, still chuckling. "I asked them that exact question."
"Daniel."
Now it was his turn to be chastised, and nodding in acknowledgement of Opith's reprimand, told them the blunt truth. There was no sense in sugar coating anything here. "They needed a way to better threaten my friend, Jack. So basically, if I keel over and die it's because Jack's done something seriously wrong."
"Jack?" Kheta curiously asked. "What Order is he in?"
"None of you have met him yet," Daniel told her, avoiding her second question since he wasn't absolutely positive himself. "He's also from Earth."
That ended the rest of their questions instantly, except for Eglish, who, looking confused, demanded, "How does threatening one slave threaten another?"
Daniel opened his mouth to answer, and then shut it again in surprise as Opith replied for him. "In time Eglish, you might find the value of another's life greater than your own."
Eglish shook his head, obviously still confused. Looking at Daniel, he questioned, "And your life is greater than this Jack's?"
Daniel smiled. "I've been trusting my life to Jack from the first day I met him." That really didn't do anything to clear up Eglish's confusion but just then the lights all dimmed. It was the five-minute bell, as Daniel had come to think of it, announcing that the lights would go off soon. Quietly everyone parted for his or her own bunk.
Then, as the lights went out, plunging the rooms into complete darkness, Daniel heard a rustle from Opith's bunk beside him. From years of camping on alien worlds Daniel had learned to listen for strange sounds, and so listened harder, hoping his eyes might adjust somewhat to show a bit of shadow. But even hearing it coming, he still jumped when Opith's hand touched his arm.
"Sorry," Daniel mumbled.
"I have to ask," Opith's voice whispered out to him from so close Daniel could feel the man's breath in his ear. "How did you know?"
"Know?" Daniel questioned just as quietly, realizing Opith didn't want this conversation heard.
"About my father."
Daniel gave a start. He'd already forgotten the reason for his worries when he'd first got back. His claim that Opith was part Okatan. They were true then. "I'm an anthropologist." Daniel quietly told him. "I study people and cultures. It's part of my job."
Opith was quiet for a few minutes, likely thinking it over. Then he whispered, "It's forbidden to mingle between the races. Most think it's not even possible."
"Oh it's possible," Daniel grumbled sourly, fresh disgust rising for this world's racism. "We're all human after all."
Again silence, then, "Goodnight Daniel," and Daniel could hear Opith moving back to his own bed.
