Thanks so much to all of you who responded to last episode's final chapter! We were amazed at the response it got, and thrilled that you all enjoyed it.

We might go into a brief hiatus after this episode - we're at well over 100,000 words on this story, and as you might imagine, it took a fair amount of time to write, edit, check, debate etc. all of it. A couple of episodes were already written when I started posting this, and we all tried really hard to stay ahead of the clock. But with five people and lots of (fun! but time-consuming) back-and-forth emailing of chapter drafts, the dreaded moment has come - the story caught up with us! Therefore we need another little head start.

So once this whole episode is posted, we'll pause for a few weeks, get a little further in writing/editing of future chapters, and some editing of past chapters and scenes. We've also got a couple of very good formatting suggestions etc., and that will all be incorporated at that time. So any ideas, thoughts, suggestions you may have, this would be a particularly good time to make them! (but also, any time is a good time, we love hearing from you.)

Alright enough talk. Onto the action! This episode is written in collaboration with domina tempore, whom I shamelessly nagged into doing this, and i'm not even a little bit sorry about it because it's been a blast co-writing :-D (although she may be suing me soon for carpal tunnel, sleep deprivation and assorted emotional damages!)

Divided Loyalties, pt. 1

It was always disconcerting, stepping into the wormhole in the underground gate room with its plain cement walls and, three-point-two seconds later, stepping out onto a sunny plain, or in the middle of a desert, or – as Colonel Cameron Mitchell registered now – a lush, almost tropical-looking forest.

He squinted a little against the sudden burst of sunlight, before adjusting his cap and turning back to the rest of the team.

"Reminds me of Costa Rica."

"I thought you said Virgin Islands when we saw the initial images from the MALP." Sam grinned as she walked past.

"Hey man, I had a lot of fun spring breaks."

Mitchell scanned the surroundings. At first sight, there was nothing more than what they had already garnered from the probe – the air was warm, the forest seemed quiet and through the thick foliage on the ground, they could make out a small, barely-there path that led away from the gate.

"Looks pretty deserted." He took a few steps around, careful not to make too much noise, then turned to Daniel. "Are we sure this is one of the Asgard protectorates?"

The archaeologist had kneeled to study a stone formation a few feet away from the gate. "Mar'kia," he provided. "And this was the address in the Asgard database," he muttered absently, "I imagine they probably got it right…"

Vala bit back a smirk. "Maybe it was a typo."

"Yeah, I don't think gate addresses lend themselves to typos," Daniel retorted before realizing the alien woman was probably just goading him. A look up at her teasing grin confirmed his suspicion, and he rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the stones.

"I don't know, Jackson, I'm no expert but this," Cam nodded to the lush, deep forest around them, "doesn't look like any of the other protectorates we've seen. I was expecting, I don't know, a village, a big hammer… something. "

"The Asgard included many different planets in the treaty with the Goa'uld," Teal'c offered. "While most of them did indeed evolve similar cultures, it is not unlikely that there are exceptions."

"This one definitely looks like an exception," Mitchell agreed as he continued to study their surroundings. "And what's up with the tropical weather, anyway? Wasn't Thor supposed to be the 'god of thunder'?"

"For one, I don't think he got to pick the weather of the planets he protected, but more importantly…" Daniel had used the elbow of his jacket to clear off the moss from one of the stones, and he now stared at the markings etched on its white polished surface, "…I don't think Thor was the Asgard in charge of this particular protectorate."

Vala walked over, craning her neck to see over his crouched form. "Meaning?"

Daniel moved out of the way so they could all see the etchings on the stone. "Meaning," he replied, "that."

"Yeah, that doesn't look like the symbol we kept seeing on Argon," Mitchell agreed.

"That was the mark of Thor. This," the archaeologist provided, "is the mark of Loki."

Sam cringed. "Uh oh."

Vala looked from her to Daniel. "Uh oh?" she repeated. "I don't think I like it when we start missions with that."

"Okay, just because the guy's symbol is scratched on a two hundred year old rock, doesn't mean he has anything to do with the people on this planet," Mitchell said firmly. "Didn't the Asgard have a non-interference policy with their protectorates?"

Sam gave a lopsided nod. "They did…" she confirmed, "but Loki was a little…flexible when it came to their rules."

Cam sighed. "Point taken." He looked back out into the forest that only minutes before had looked like a tropical paradise, but now seemed just a touch more ominous. "So, do we have any reason to think we should not check up on these particular people?"

"Let me remind you," Vala put one hand on her hip, "that we finally got a chance to look into the whole Asgard legacy thing while the IOA is busy working out their internal affairs," she arched her eyebrows, "and we should take advantage of it while it lasts."

The two colonels exchanged a glance, and Sam nodded her agreement. "We don't know how long we'll be under their radar," she acknowledged.

"Plus, the whole cloning Jack and occasional abductions thing aside," Daniel ignored Sam and Teal'c's pointed looks, "there's really no evidence that Loki ever broke the laws of the Protected Planets Treaty. And he didn't really start his illegal experiments until the last twenty years or so…According to the Asgard database, this planet has been under their protectorate for almost a thousand years."

Teal'c dipped his head. "It is improbable that Loki ever interfered with the natural evolution of the natives."

"Alright… so assuming we find any people out here in Jurassic Park, we're not expecting them to be an army of clones," Mitchell clarified. "Right?"

Sam gave a small shrug when their eyes met. "You heard Teal'c… it's improbable," she smirked.

"Actually, it is a little weird that there doesn't seem to be any sign of human civilization this close to the gate." The archaeologist took a few steps further into the tree line and Teal'c automatically tensed up – a reflex, Mitchell assumed, formed after years of watching Jackson find trouble even by the most seemingly innocuous actions. "It might be that they never discovered the stargate … although, in a few hundred years, that doesn't seem likely…maybe if some natural disaster caused the centre of their society to move too far away from here…"

"Someone knows about this stargate," Vala piped in from behind them.

Daniel stopped his advanced into the forest. "And you assume that, why?"

She trailed a hand over the surface of the DHD, then held it up for them to inspect. "A couple hundred years' worth of dust and mud," she explained, wiggling her dirt-stained fingertips, "but…" she trailed a finger from her other hand over a different key, then held it up to show it was almost clean, "nothing on this one." Her eyebrows lifted. "Some of these keys were used to dial out recently. Therefore, someone knows about the stargate." She gave Daniel a challenging look. "Happy?"

He pursed his lips and did not reply.

"Are you telling me we're dealing with an Asgard protectorate that's using gate travel?" Mitchell's attitude had turned cautious again. "I didn't think any of them did that."

"They don't normally," Daniel confirmed, looking thoughtful. "The whole point behind the treaty is that on their home planets, they're protected from the Goa'uld. So they'd have no incentive to go elsewhere."

"It does not appear that the stargate is used with any frequency," Teal'c put in. "Perhaps whoever dialled out recently was an...exception."

Cam grimaced. "There's that word again."

"Maybe someone crashed their ship here and had to make their way off the planet using the stargate," Vala suggested. then shrugged at their expressions. "What? Sometimes it's impossible to make repairs using only indigenous materials. That's no reflection on the pilot's abilities."

"Whoever they are, they're probably gone by now," Daniel reasoned. "And if some third party did visit this protectorate, that's all the more reason for us to check on them and make sure they're still… you know, protected."

Sam gave another half-nod. "That is what the Asgard intended…"

"Of course, they also intended for you to use their technology while you uphold their legacy," Vala muttered. "I for one would feel considerably better if we had that large, impressive ship of yours backing us."

"I don't think the IOA is distracted enough for us to get away with that." Cam straightened his shoulders and nodded toward the forest. "Alright people, let's find our protected civilization and see what they've been up to these last couple hundred years."

"Whatever they've been up to, it certainly wasn't construction work."

Vala kept her voice to a low whisper as they walked past the last of the trees and into an unexpectedly large clearing that obviously housed some sort of establishment. Numerous huts, roughly identical but for their size, were strewn about, the larger ones near the centre of the clearing, a few smaller ones closer to the tree line. They all seemed to be rudimentarily built from an assortment of mud, twigs and branches and, here and there, rocks.

"Didn't you say these people have been here for a thousand years? I've heard enough of Daniel's lectures to know they should be more technologically advanced than this."

"Not necessarily," the archaeologist whispered back, "there are other examples of societies that remain at a basic hunter-gatherer level of development due to a variety of environmental factors such as isolation or harsh living conditions."

Cam carefully watched several natives who had noticed their approach and were now whispering amongst themselves and pointing fingers. "What kind of welcome are we looking at here, Jackson?"

"Uhm…" Daniel, too, was studying the attitudes of the villagers, "based on past experience, the societies protected by the Asgard have generally been friendly to outsiders, mostly because they weren't afraid of any threats… but…"

Mitchell sighed. "Let me guess…these folks might be the exception."

The team watched the villagers gather in small groups as news of their arrival presumably spread. They were still a few hundred yards away from the nearest group of people, but it was clear that they were now the centre of attention.

"Why don't we let them approach us," Daniel suggested, and they all stopped, only a short distance away from the tree line, and tried to look as friendly as possible. "Their community is actually larger than I would've expected," he remarked, studying the rudimentary structures in the clearing. "I'm estimating at least a few hundred inhabitants…"

"Daniel," Sam sounded surprised, "there can't be more than twenty huts, there's no way –"

"There are more over in the back," he nodded to a point at the far end of the clearing, although it was difficult to see past the huts and the opposing tree line. "I think there might be some sort of river bank there, too..."

"How can they sustain a population that size with just hunting and gathering?"

He shook his head. "I don't know… they must have some sort of larger-scale agricultural system in place."

"In the middle of the forest?"

"Maybe they can tell us." Daniel nodded to a group of ten or so villagers who had finally begun to approach. He took a step forward, and held up his palms in a classic gesture of non-violence. "Hello. Don't be afraid, we come as friends."

Vala's eyebrows arched as she noticed, for the first time, the faces of the incoming villagers. "They may not be big on architecture," she leaned back and whispered to Mitchell, "but they've got the body art down."

When the natives were close enough, the rest of SG-1 saw what she was referring to. The young men all wore similarly simple garb, knee-high tunics made from some sort of rough cloth. Some had feather and bead necklaces or bracelets. But their most eye-catching feature by far were the intricate thick black tattoos that ran down one or both sides of their faces, and in some cases extended down the neck. The designs looked mostly alike, although there seemed to be subtle differences.

"Some of them look larger and more complex," Sam remarked under her breath, "that could be an indication of the wearer's status…"

For his part, Daniel continued his attempt at making friendly first contact.

"We're peaceful explorers. I'm Daniel Jackson," he introduced himself, "and my friends and I would just like to talk to you, get to know you…Do you understand what I'm saying…?"

None of the young men said anything.

"Jackson?" Mitchell's hand twitched involuntarily toward the P-90 slung on his shoulder.

The archaeologist grimaced. "We have met less advanced cultures before that didn't use spoken language to communicate, but from what I can see of their way of life, I don't think that's the case here…"

"I think someone didn't do their homework," Vala murmured. "This place is very different from what you described, Daniel."

He threw her a glare before muttering back: "In case you forgot, the very reason we picked this place to check on was that there was no recent information on it in the Asgard database."

"Yeah, and I'm startin' to think we should've wondered why." Cam gave the natives a cautious look.

On some unspoken signal, the small group of villagers split to leave a clear path, and one of them held out a hand, as though in invitation, toward the centre of the clearing.

"Looks like they want us to go with them…"

"Where, exactly?" Vala was beginning to sound impatient.

"I don't know, I guess we'll find out… probably to meet whoever's in charge."

She maintained her sceptical expression even as she followed Daniel in the direction that the young native had indicated.

"I don't like this," she informed him.

"I don't know," Daniel muttered as they walked, "I can see the benefits of exposing you to a culture where talking isn't considered a viable form of communication…"

Vala shot him a glare, but whatever she might have replied was pre-empted as a new figure emerged from the largest hut in the middle of the clearing. Clad in a simple cloth robe from neck to toes, the figure wore a large ornate wooden mask that extended above its head and covered its face entirely. It was impossible to tell from appearance alone whether it was a man or a woman behind the mask.

All of SG-1 displayed various degrees of surprise at the unexpected appearance. Daniel cleared his throat.

"Hello…" he tried again. "I'm Daniel Jackson, and –"

Then the figure spoke, and the voice was decidedly feminine:

"Have you come to return to us what you have stolen?"

The team exchanged quick glances, their surprise now mixed with concern.

"Uh, we haven't stolen anything," Daniel replied in his most convincing tone, "you see, we're explorers and –"

"You are traitors, and you are thieves," the woman behind the mask declared, her icy voice resounding across the clearing. "You will return what you have taken from us, or you will pay the price."

As one, the young men who had escorted them fell into a defensive position, pulling out short spears that they trained on the team.

Vala eyed the primitive but efficient weapons. "So, Daniel," she asked dryly, "what do you think that tells us about their culture?"

SG-1 had taken up their classic defence position, backs against each other and weapons gripped tightly, but only half-raised, as they attempted to diffuse the situation. They all wanted to avoid a fight with the very people they were supposed to befriend and even protect. Plus, the armed natives were so close, the tips of their spears mere inches away, that the team could probably not shoot their way out without receiving some injuries of their own in the process.

"Whoa, there's got to be some mistake here," Mitchell held up his free hand, open palm facing the masked woman who had accused them. "We didn't steal anything. We've never even been here before."

"We're explorers," Daniel added, "we came to meet you and your people, we mean you no harm."

But their words seemed to have little effect.

"Others have come, just like you," the woman said in a loud, emotionless voice. "Barely a few moon turns past. Men who pretended to be our friends and then took the gifts of the gods from us. We vowed that if you ever returned, we would make you pay for what you have stolen."

"That wasn't us," Cam insisted. "Okay? This is just one big misunderstanding. We didn't have anything to do with whoever robbed you."

"We might be able to help, if you want," Daniel offered, "maybe we can track down the thieves, get back what they stole."

The natives seemed unimpressed, still. The metal spear tips remained, unwavering, close enough to almost scrape the skins of the increasingly concerned SG-1.

"For many generations we have lived in peace and safety," the woman stated, "protected and aided by the gods. We were trusting of strangers, and we paid the price for our trust when they came and robbed us. Now, it is your turn to pay."

Cam grimaced, his hand still gripping the P-90. "Look, we get it," he said slowly, cautiously, "this is pretty bad timing, horrible timing, but we're innocent, and clichéd as it may sound, we really do come in peace." He harboured his most persuasive expression, although it was offputting to have no non-verbal cues from their masked accuser. "No one wants a fight here. Like Jackson said, we'd be happy to offer our help if you want it…but first, everyone needs to put their weapons down, and we can talk."

The woman's voice became, if possible, even colder. "We will not be fooled again."

"We're not trying to fool you," Daniel argued, "we –"

"We're friends of the Asgard," Vala cut him off. "You know – Loki? That god of yours?" That seemed to catch their interest, so she went with it, ignoring Daniel's warning look. "Yeah, they sent us! And Loki would be very unhappy if you were to treat his friends badly. In fact, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate all these weapons aimed at us."

The masked woman remained still for a long moment, and it was impossible to tell what she was thinking or even where she was looking. "You claim to come to us from the gods?"

"Er – in a manner of speaking, yes," Daniel hurried to reply before Vala could deceive the natives any further. "We really just wanted to meet your people and learn about you."

The woman paused for another moment. "You do not look like the gods."

"I can think of a few anatomical differences," Vala muttered, too low for the natives to hear, but not Daniel, who shot her another annoyed glare.

"It's a long story," Mitchell replied. "One that we'd be happy to tell you, once we stop aiming weapons at each other."

The masked woman lifted a hand, and the young men raised their spears another few inches, while SG-1 did the same with their P-90s.

"I must seek the guidance of our god Loki in this matter," she decided. "If you are truly innocent, then you shall not be held responsible for the acts of others. But neither will we misplace our trust in strangers, again," she warned. "You will await judgment."

"Uh, where we come from, the accused usually get a chance to speak for themselves before judgment is passed," Daniel mentioned, "you know, present evidence and everything…"

Vala gave him a sideways glance. "Are you sure you want to go there? Last time didn't go so well."

"You will have a chance to speak for yourselves," the masked woman declared. "But first I will pray for the advice of the gods." She waved a hand at the armed young men. "Take them away."