Hi everyone! Just wanted to say thanks for the glowing reviews. Wow! I never thought people would like my stuff this much *floating happily in the clouds of success*.
Anyway, Some people asked question that probably won't be cleared in the following parts, so I thought I answer them here before there is more confusion.
For all those who are asking if and when Sam and Jack will find out: Be patient, Part 6 will be the part of this particular revelation (and before anyone asks: the first half of the part is getting beta-ed at the moment.)
For why Daniel couldn't remember much of his life: In my opinion 4000 years worth of memories of violence is enough to make anyone snap. What happened with the merchant-caravan Daniel is the supposed sole survivor of has probably something to do with why his brain decided to do a complete reset. I'm probably going to explain this in depth somewhere but I'm not sure yet. Perhaps in the sequel
Highlander characters will be mentioned but none will make an appearance. Not jet anyway
And now, on to the next part:
Part 5Daniel stood at the window of his apartment, looking out onto the street. He knew that Chel was down there, observing the building with incredible patience and stubbornness. The constant knowledge that the man was this close, was putting Daniel on the edge. What was Chel trying to accomplish by that? He had never been one to play mind games after all. If he was trying to drive Daniel crazy, he was doing a remarkably good job. Sometimes Chel came close enough for Daniel to feel the Buzz but whenever he went to look for him, Chel disappeared. It was driving him insane, damn it! He could deal with an honest open fight, but not with this cat and mouse game. This was going to far. Perhaps Chel had been a bit thrown off track by Daniel's refusal to run away this time, and now he was trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Anyhow, this was the only explanation Daniel could think of.
Daniel's gaze roamed the street again. He could see his old friend/enemy standing across from the building at a corner, like a figure out of a bad spy-movie. A small smile appeared on Daniel's features, but barely touched his eyes. Chel hadn't changed much since back then. Of course, his hair was considerably shorter (the long mane he had worn in the past simply wouldn't be fashionable anymore) but his bearing was still the one of a self-confident and seasoned warrior. The traditional warrior-tattoo on his face was still worn proudly. Chel was standing too far away, but Daniel had no trouble imagining the brown eyes shining with determination. He had seen the same eyes alight with the warmth of friendship, but not for a very long time, or numb with shock that horrible day when a hundred year old friendship had crumpled into dust.
Okay, he had to admit, he still missed his friend. Perhaps because it had been the first friendship of this kind he had forged. A friendship with one of his own kind. At this time neither of them had known about the Game. That was something he hadn't encountered until nearly a century after their falling out. So there hadn't been the lingering distrust that was, sadly, part of every relationship between immortals nowadays.
"You won't stop this, until one of us is dead, will you?" Daniel whispered, touching the cool glass of the window "But I have no intention of loosing. If I have a chance to prevent another occupation of the Goa'uld, it'll worth it. This time I'll fight back, brother!"
A car appeared and halted in front of the building. It was Sam.
*********************
Sam was happy that she had found a parking-place this quickly. She wanted to visit Daniel, not embark on a quest for a place to leave her car.
Sam was a bit worried about her teammate, hence the unannounced visit. She hadn't told anyone, but she had observed Janet and Daniel about a week ago, and she hadn't really liked what she saw.
She had been on the way back from a talk with her father, going to her lab, when she had noticed Janet slipping into one of the storerooms. Curious about what was going on Sam had crept up to the door, not really attempting to eavesdrop, just wanting to take a short look. Immediately she had noticed Daniel sitting huddled in the corner, his knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes looking vacantly ahead. Sam had seen this posture before with people who were in shock but she couldn't think of anything here on the base that would send Daniel into this condition. While she was still trying to decide if she should intrude on them, Janet had knelt in front of Daniel, talking with a soft tone of voice, obviously trying to bring him out of the daze he had slipped into.
"Come on, Daniel, snap out of it!"
Daniel hadn't moved, nor even blinked, just continued to stare straight ahead. In an attempt to reach him, Janet had grabbed his shoulder gently, trying to draw his attention to her through physical contact. This had finally gotten a reaction out of him:
So fast that neither Janet nor Sam had any chance to react, Daniel moved. Suddenly Janet found herself with her back to the wall and a knife (where had Daniel gotten this from so fast?) dangerously close to her throat. From the look in Daniel's eyes it was clear, that he didn't know where he was or who Janet was. Janet didn't dare to move, but remained perfectly still. After a few seconds staring maliciously at her Daniel's expression changed. Disoriented, blinking and shaking his head, he finally asked:
"Jan?"
He sat back looking about as shocked as Sam from her observation point felt. She had never seen Daniel reacting this violently (or this fast for that matter) to anything; and she was still trying to wrap her thoughts around her discovery that Daniel was not only carrying a knife around but also knew how to use it. Perhaps the Colonel had taught him?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Janet's soft question to Daniel:
"What happened? How long have you been sitting here?"
"What time is it?" Daniel replied and Sam wasn't sure if it was meant as a joke or not. Janet didn't think it funny either, judging by the glare she favoured Daniel with. Her voice though was very soft when she asked a second time what had happened.
"Flashes." Daniel answered and Janet winced slightly. Sam didn't understand what this meant, but Janet obviously did and the doctor didn't like this revelation at all.
"How bad?"
"You have to ask?" Daniel inquired holding up the knife, which he held still in his hand, slightly "I could have killed you, you know. For a moment I wasn't here but back then."
//Back then?// Sam repeated in her mind. What did Daniel mean?
"But you came out of it in time." Janet tried to reassure Daniel who was looking at her remorsefully "Don't fell guilty for reacting instinctively. What triggered the flashback this time?"
//Flashback?// Daniel was suffering from flashbacks? Sam wondered why she never heard about this and if the Colonel knew. She knew that there were some traumatic occurrences in Daniel's past, but something strong enough to bring about a nearly catatonic state?
"This device Selmak and Lantash tried to identify…" Daniel said quietly looking at his hands. Janet looked at him in surprise:
"You know what this thing is?"
Daniel had just nodded, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Sam had noted absently that the knife Daniel had held the whole time had disappeared again, but she was too busy listening to care much. Sadly, Janet and Daniel didn't talk much more. To avoid being caught listening Sam had crept away. She had had much to think about. She really didn't understand what this scene had been about; even another talk with her father hadn't shed any light in this matter. She knew now that the device was some kind of diary of a long dead Goa'uld but Sam had absolute no idea what this had to do with Daniel. Perhaps Colonel O'Neill was right: something strange was going on in Daniel's life. Well, stranger than the usual travelling-to-other-planets strange. Something that made Sam as well as the Colonel very concerned.
Leaving her car, Sam felt as if somebody was watching her. Looking around suspiciously she noted a man at the corner between two apartment buildings staring at her. For an endless moment their looks met, then the guy turned around and disappeared behind the corner. Sam stared after him abashed. Who was this and what was he doing lurking around here? For a moment she debated following him, but then decided against it. It was unlikely that she would find him, but she stored his face away for later research. It shouldn't be too hard to find something, those strange tattoos she had seen were rather distinctive.
Shrugging off the uncomfortable feeling of danger, Sam went over to Daniel's apartment building. Perhaps she could get something out of him.
*********************
Daniel opened his front door the minute Sam used the doorbell, as if he had known that she was coming. But that was impossible, wasn't it. Seeing her slight confusion he smiled and said:
"I saw you arriving through the window."
That explained that at least even if Sam thought it an incredible coincidence that Daniel had looked out of the window the very minute she stopped her car. It was possible (even though there was nothing of interest outside he could have looked for) so she didn't ask further.
"To what do I owe this visit?" he asked her while going over to his kitchen and getting coffee.
"Do I need an excuse to just visit you? The Colonel is stuck on base doing his overdue paperwork so I left before he came to my lab moaning about it… besides, I brought offerings of good will!"
While saying the last words she produced a paper bag of chocolate-chip-walnut cookies. It was an open secret that Daniel loved these kind of sweets. Actually he almost liked everything with chocolate, but it had to be good chocolate. Imported stuff was the best in his opinion (and Sam's; he always shared with her). Daniel looked around one of his bookcases at her and the bag. A wide, boyish smile spread over his face.
"If that is the case, you are more than welcome, my lady!" he said and went back to the kitchen.
She laughed, but inside she was once again startled how much Daniel changed when he laughed, really laughed. He would suddenly seem so young and guileless. It was quite a contrast to his usual appearance. Sam had often noticed that the young anthropologist appeared rather world-weary and old sometimes. She knew from his file that he was younger than her, but if she looked into his eyes they seemed so much older than his actual age.
Her grandmother would have called Daniel an old soul. Her dad had always called her grandmother a sentimental fool, but Sam thought the expression was pretty accurate for Daniel. It often seemed to her that he was more at home in ancient civilizations like on Abydos than in 20th century America.
While waiting for Daniel to finish the coffee (she was patient for this. Daniel made the best coffee in the whole SGC - an insider tip for the science departments) she started to have a closer look around his apartment. He had moved not long after the mess on Oannes, when SG-1 had been forced to pack the things in his old apartment. The memory of those days, when they had thought that they would never see Daniel ever again still created a strange kind of hurt inside her.
Back then she had concentrated mostly on packing his books while Teal'c took care of the artefacts Daniel had had scattered around his living space like causal decoration. Neither of them had trusted the Colonel to properly handle the partly priceless things, his ignorance concerning rocks well known.
Slowly walking along the bookcases she looked at the artefacts standing here. Little figures, a clay-mask with countless little cracks and little, faded patches of paint, a silver amulet that reminded Sam of her time on Simarka, when she had nearly been forced to become the chieftains next wife, a beautiful worked knife the sheath decorated with motives that reminded her of India. Looking around Sam noticed something she hadn't until now: Among Daniel's many artefacts were surprising many weapons. If you didn't look for it, you wouldn't see it, but they were nevertheless there. A knife here, there a sword, she had even seen a revolver that looked as if taken right out of the civil war.
Why had she never noticed that Daniel had a fondness for weapons? The Colonel had told her that Daniel apparently knew how to fence but that did not explain the old firearms. And all this stuff looked authentic. If he would sell just a part of his collection Daniel could probably sit back and live the rest of his life in luxury. Thinking of it, Sam suddenly asked herself how much money Daniel had anyway. She had always assumed that he was the typical eternal poor grad student, but no poor person could afford some of this stuff.
Sam was still thinking when Daniel returned with the coffee. She had decided to postpone her questions at Daniel for a bit and look for answers on her own first. It wasn't a terribly polite thing to do, but she wanted to find out some things now.
The rest of her visit went over okay, both of them making small talk, enjoying coffee and cookies and both thinking about their own problems without sharing them.
*********************
It was a dark and stormy night and Daniel felt like a living cliché. Apart from the fact that he had absolutely no idea what idiotic notion had driven him outside in this weather, he also felt as if he was followed. Correction: he knew he was followed. What was this, a bad horror-movie?
It would have been even more like an old B-movie if Daniel hadn't known exactly who was stalking him. Chel wasn't as good at the whole stealth thing as he obviously believed. At least not with Daniel. But this following around started to grate at Daniel's nerves and Chel wasn't giving up. Nothing new here. Worse was that Sam and Jack had started to suspect that something was up. Jack's more or less subtle questions and Sam's unannounced visit a few days ago were the best proof for this. Daniel couldn't fault them for worrying about him; it just could be rather annoying. And as if this wasn't bad enough already, Janet started to get more persistent by the day. Of course she wanted to know what exactly was going on, but Daniel wasn't ready to tell her this part of his past. Not yet anyway.
Knowing that Chel was still following him Daniel came to a decision. Stopping in a small, deserted alley he turned and waited, his sword drawn. He didn't need to wait long. After a minute a man came into the alley, accompanied by the rushing feeling of another Immortal.
"So, you finally decided to stop being a coward, Da'yell?"
The deep, slightly horse voice was laced with sarcasm and disdain, making Daniel shiver involuntarily. It had been so long since he heard this voice; their last meeting had gone down in eerie silence. This voice raised many memories, some of them forgotten for millennia.
"I've just grown tired of our cat and mouse game, Chel."
There was no waver in Daniel's voice, nothing that indicated how nervous he really felt, just a slight trace of resignation.
"Since you are still too stubborn and thick-headed to listen to reason, I may just as well give up trying to avoid this fight, shall I? This time I won't run away so lets get it over with!"
"Big words. So sure you'll win after our last fight."
Daniel just shrugged. Idly he wondered why the dripping sarcasm and open hate wasn't hurting so bad anymore. Perhaps dealing with overly self-important beings like Apophis, Ra or Senator Kinsey had given him a better resistance against verbal attacks.
"You surprised me the last time, so you had a rather unfair advantage, don't you think? This time I'm ready for the fight. And besides, I survived until today, didn't I?"
Daniel could do scorn just as good if not better than Chel if he wanted to. Jack called it snake-baiting; Daniel called it stating the facts.
A grin had appeared on Chel's face while Daniel's remained expressionless. He didn't want this fight but it seemed as if he didn't have any other choice.
Both of them raised their swords and seconds later the fight began. Steel clashed on steel with the power of two truly ancient immortals. Sparks flew, moves and countermoves followed each other in such a rapid order that the movements seemed to blur together.
The fight went on minute after minute until both opponents were sweating heavily, but neither of them was able to gain an advantage. They weren't holding back, both of them giving everything. All the tricks both of them had learned in centuries of fighting were tried in an attempt to shift the balance of the fight, but to no avail. Daniel realized absently that there was a stalemate. Neither could gain the upper hand in this fight; try as they might, their strengths were too evenly balanced. The only chance for one of them to win would be to tire the opponent out and wait for a mistake. Taking into account that they both counted among the oldest and ergo most powerful immortals together with the fact that Daniel had a rather high stamina thanks to the military it could take hours before either of them reached this point of exhaustion.
While concentrating on their fight neither of them noticed the police-car approaching until a loud voice interrupted them:
"Police! Stop immediately!"
Daniel and Chel exchanged a fast look before Chel growled through clenched teeth:
"This isn't over yet!"
Then he turned and ran away. Daniel didn't wait for the police officers to gather their wits but followed Chel's example and ran. He could hear the policemen shouting behind him, but he didn't care. Daniel's thoughts were preoccupied with another problem: He had to find a way to get through to Chel, now more than ever before. Because this fight had shown one thing clearly: neither of them would win in a fair fight.
*********************
About an hour after the fight Daniel finally got home. He had wandered around a bit, thinking, but hadn't come up with any ideas. Letting himself fall boneless onto the couch Daniel closed his eyes and put his head into his hands. Again he had survived to fight another day, to quote the favourite saying of a one-time student of his. Chel's anger had definitely not grown any less since their last actual meeting about four hundred years ago and his fighting hadn't suffered due to old age either.
Four hundreds years ago had been the last time Daniel had faced Chel in a fight. Oh, he had known where his self-proclaimed archenemy was sometimes, but had used this knowledge to avoid him religiously. There had been some close calls, like during the American civil war, but Chel had never caught Daniel.
With a bitter and self-mocking smile on his face Daniel thought back to those times. Many occurrences of the last two millennia Daniel remembered seemed strange to him, as if a complete other person had lived through these times. It was unnerving but not surprising, after all, now he saw his life with additional two or three thousand years of memories, experiences of truly archaic and ancient times. Memories, knowledge and skills that had been buried deep in his subconscious, unreachable. Now there were back with a vengeance, shifting his opinions into a totally different point of view.
But back then he hadn't even known why this strange old immortal was so crazy about decapitating him. To be honest, Daniel had been scared out of his wits by Chel. The older immortal, or at least Daniel had thought Chel was older than him, had been violent, hateful and completely unreasonable - in short: he was damn scary! A good reason to avoid a fight if nothing else; and living by the philosophy that killing should be only the absolute and utterly last option made running away rather understandable.
Leaning back, eyes still closed Daniel let his thoughts drift. Drift back to the time of his last meeting with Chel. So long ago in Europe…
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//What in all gods name am I doing here?// Daniel asked himself for heaven knew not the first time; and like all the times before when he had asked himself this question he couldn't come up with an answer. This country was cold, rainy and depressing and he had chosen the definite wrong season to come here. He hated the wet and wanted nothing more than to go back to his beloved deserts. At least they were dry!
But here he was, in the cold (and wet!) north, trying to make a quite living before he figured out where to go next. He would most definitely not stay here. Beside the fact that the whole country had gone completely crazy thanks to one mans idea that the Christian church needed some reforming, he hated the weather. Well, perhaps it was just depression due to the long winter.
Daniel lived in a little city near an old cloister, which had an interesting library (which was the reason why he was here and not on the other side of the middle-sea) spending most of his days shifting through old, dusty books, sometimes trying to teach stubborn monks something new (or old, depending on your point of view). He knew all to well that the people in the town were wary of him. He even had heard whispered accusations of sorcerer from some old woman at the market. Daniel hadn't known if he should laugh or be afraid. On the one hand the superstitions of the people were kind of funny but at the same time very frightening. He wasn't human, this was an undeniable fact and he really didn't want to end being burned alive. It hurt way too much.
Deep in thought Daniel hurried through the darkening streets of the town, he had once again forgotten the time while reading, when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. The unmistakable feeling of an immortal presence was washing over him, making his head hurt. Warily he grabbed his sword, looking around for his opponent. Finally he stepped out of the shadows, grinning nastily. Daniel felt his heart stop for a moment. He knew this man, he knew him all to well. Since their first meeting in ancient Rome this man was trying to kill him with notable persistence; and until this day Daniel had no idea whatsoever why.
Still grinning nastily the man said something in an eerily familiar language, but Daniel didn't understand a single word. The tone of voice though was enough to recognize the loathing the man was obviously feeling for Daniel.
//Whatever have I done to warrant this kind of hate?// Daniel thought confused. With a murderous gleam in his eyes the man unsheathed his own sword and without further words attacked. Daniel was taken by surprise by the suddenness of the assault, taking a defensive role. He fought to his best ability but his opponent was very strong and skilled. Desperately trying to think of a way to flee from this fight, Daniel's wish was granted. The loud voice of the night watch interrupted the fight. Using the momentary confusion of his challenger, Daniel turned and ran. It may be kind of cowardly but he had this thing about living: it was a nice way to pass the time.
When he reached his home he spent a few minutes just calming his hammering heart. Then, looking around the room he came to a decision. It was high time to move on!
When the grey light of false dawn announced the beginning of the next day, Daniel had finished packing his most prized belongings and was loading them unto his horse. Thankfully he had nothing of any personal worth here that couldn't be moved on short notice.
Finishing with his horse, Daniel shut the door and walked away without a backward glance. He had just rounded a corner when he heard agitated voices behind him. Curiosity winning over caution (like so often before) Daniel risked a glimpse around the corner: In front of his house a small group of people had gathered, in its centre two city-guards. Daniel had the nasty suspicion that his duel last night hadn't gone unnoticed at all. He had been right: High time to leave.
About half an hour later Daniel had made his way out of the city, skilfully avoiding the guards. He never looked back, but was thinking where to go next. He longed to go back to Egypt or another southern country but on the other hand, what harm could there be exploring the rest of the world. Besides the bad weather of course.
Perhaps he should go to the British island, looking what was left of Londinium? He had heard that there was this poet making a name for himself with new and very good plays and poetry. What was his name again? Shekespare? Something like that. Decision made that he would spite the northern weather gods for some time longer, Daniel turned northeast. In a few days he should reach a haven from where he could cross over to Britannia.
#####################
Resurfacing out of his memories Daniel had a small smile on his face. It had turned out to be the right decision to go to England. Shakespeare had turned out as good as the rumours of him and Daniel had never rued living there, even if the weather had been lousy. From there he had left Europe behind for centuries to come and had somehow ended up in America. So he had missed the bloody and senseless wars fought in the old lands. It hadn't been until the 19th century that he returned.
Sometimes Daniel thought he should perhaps thank Chel for showing up when he had. Otherwise he would perhaps stayed buried in the library and faced a much more unpleasant fate. Thanking him would confuse the hell out of Chel if nothing else.
Shaking off the last thoughts about the past, Daniel went to bed. SG-1 had a mission tomorrow so he better be awake.
*********************
The early morning hours found Daniel holed up in his office with coffee and chocolate-walnut-cookies doing some translation-work. Or at last Daniel would tell anyone who asked that he was doing this. The truth looked a little bit different. Okay, he was reading old Egyptian texts but ones that had already been translated. Or people had attempted to and came up with a lot of gibberish. It was fascinating how the meaning of words could shift in a few thousand years and what kind of misunderstandings could spring from this fact.
Currently he was cross-reading a text that had been found in the grave chamber of some public servant of ancient Egypt. The real irony was that Daniel had actually known the persons who had written and dictated the text. So he knew pretty well what it was supposed to mean. The translation in front of him had nothing to do with the original intention. It was quite funny actually. No wonder the generations of Egyptologists had never found anything about the Goa'uld: they simply didn't understand what was written. Daniel had a very good reason why he didn't let his staff use the usual reference material for translations.
Sniggering Daniel read over another passage. Heaven, this was supposed to be a stocktaking-list not something out of the Egyptian version of the Kama-Sutra!
Reaching for his coffee-mug Daniel brought it to his lips without even looking up.
//Damn it!// He thought about a second later when he gazed disgusted in his empty coffee-mug. The pot was empty, too. Well, that was an unbearable situation. You needed coffee to work; that was a simple fundamental fact of life. Janet may have disagreed, telling him that he was an addict but Daniel didn't care. After all, he knew she was right. He had become a hopeless coffee-addict the moment the stuff had been introduced to him. Old habits are hard to break and 500 year old ones even harder.
Daniel loved the Arabic way of making coffee. Black and muddy and so strong that he only needed one single cup to keep going for 24 hours. The kind of coffee you needed to be immortal to drink without risking a heart attack after the second cup.
But at the moment Daniel would be grateful to have any kind of caffeine handy, even the coloured water from the commissary. Normally he would have just started the coffee maker in his office, at least here he could regulate the strength of the brew himself, but the blasted piece of technology had stopped working yesterday morning. He hadn't found time to look for a replacement yet and so he kept borrowing coffee from various colleagues.
So he put his notes down and left his office. After a short glance at the clock he decided that it wasn't worth going to Sam's lab for coffee. The benefits (way better coffee) were far out weighted by the disadvantages (another lecture that he shouldn't try to live only off coffee without sleeping now and then). Sam hadn't seen him trying to do this or she would have recognised his three-days-without-sleep phases as harmless. It was a sad fact that he could lose himself in his work for days without really recognising the passing of time. Once he managed to pull something like this off for nearly a month. Okay, so he hadn't been exactly healthy afterwards, but he had had fun. Great fun. Just as well that Janet didn't know about this.
Walking along the corridors Daniel approached the commissary. Thankfully there weren't many people around which could have something to do with the time. Everyone in his or her right mind and without orders that commanded otherwise was sleeping; and what exactly did this say about him (or Sam for that matter)?
Daniel didn't even bother just getting a single cup of coffee but liberated a whole thermos. He had to, or otherwise he would have been back here too soon. He really didn't want to risk running into Janet or Sam who were both still on base. Jack thankfully had enough sense to go home for a good nights sleep.
His way through the endless seeming corridors of the SGC led him by the office where the two Tok'ra scientists were still trying to decipher the code on Thoth's memory-device. First they had wanted to take the thing off planet, but thankfully General Hammond had refused. Daniel thought it was because the General suspected that they would never hear from the device again if the Tok'ra took off with it. At least this was Daniels opinion. The Tok'ra would have to do much work, to make him trust them. The betrayal that had once upon a time been delivered by a supposed member of this resistance was still very much present in his memory, thank you very much. He had lost too much because of it to forget it easily. He liked Selmak well enough but others of the Tok'ra were way too secretive about their doings for his liking.
Curious as ever Daniel moved closer to the door, trying to listen to what the two scientists were saying.
"Do you really think it's worth all this work to get this device started?" asked one of them, sounding clearly annoyed and frustrated. The code obviously wasn't easy to break. The other Tok'ra answered with a certain degree of resignation in his voice:
"We know it is from Thoth, so yes, it is worth the work. Thoth was known to be rather pedantic concerning his recordings. He had the reputation of having written down virtually all knowledge of the Goa'uld, a fact even the Tau'ri mythology acknowledges. Some of his information about the other system-lords, however old it is, could be invaluable for our cause."
Daniel had to agree with the Tok'ra. Thoth had been fond of recording everything he deemed important - or could be important at a later date.
"From what I heard" the younger sounding Tok'ra said thoughtfully "Thoth was a real bastard. Nearly destroyed the Tok'ra before they began…"
At this point Daniel stopped listening. Oh, he had to agree with the Tok'ra's assessment of Thoth's character. This Goa'uld had been a bastard, but not like Ra or Apophis in an insufferable arrogant way, but because he understood how to play those around him.
Daniel reached his office and closed the door behind him. Sitting down he drowned a fresh cup of coffee, before leaning back in his chair. His eyes fell on a piece of papyrus behind glass that decorated his wall. Closing his eyes, memories of his first month with Thoth arose in him.
#####################
The sun stood high in the sky, glaring down with painfully bright light. The sky shimmered with heat but Da'yell didn't feel it. Inside Thoth's palace you never felt the heat of the world outside.
Da'yell had found a quiet place at a window and looked at the world outside. From his observation-point he could see the great river, the life of this land, and a small settlement a little farther away. Green and sandy-yellow plains extended beyond that as far as he could see. When he concentrated Da'yell was able to pretend for a few seconds that he was standing on the mountainside and looking towards his home. His old home he had left so many years ago. But reality always came crashing back to him.
Thoth had come here, to this part of the land, a few weeks ago, by command of Ra. Since then Da'yell hadn't seen much of his master, something he thanked his own gods for very much. When Thoth wasn't around most of his Jaffa weren't either and the few remaining ignored Da'yell for the most part. When Thoth was around… a shiver ran down his back. Better not to think about it. But even as he enjoyed being left alone for a while, these times always let him remember his own loneliness. There was no one he could talk to.
He missed Chel.
Letting his gaze sweep over the panorama outside of the window Da'yell thought he could see rock formations further down the river. Of course, his eyes had never been the ones of a hunter and so he could be wrong but he thought Thoth had mentioned something about a quarry not too far away. Was Chel there?
Sighing and putting his daydreams about his friend aside Da'yell turned back to his actual task. He had a pad of thin wood and some sheets of papyrus in his lab, a case with ink sat beside him. He was supposed to copy some lists until Thoth came back.
This was the only thing Da'yell could think of he could maybe be thankful towards this god. Thoth had taught him to read and write the strange script correctly. Not that there was much to teach left, Da'yell had figured out most of it on his own by then, but it helped to get the finder points. Da'yell didn't really understand why Thoth had done it. There were enough people around already learned and trained to be a scribe. But Thoth had trained his newly acquired slave for this task, mostly personally, which Da'yell thought even stranger. The tasks he got were boring however. Taking care of the correspondence to the priests mostly, nothing too demanding. Everything of real importance Thoth kept away from his slave. Or at least he thought he did.
He had told Da'yell to stay away from the more important recordings, those that were stored with these strange devices instead of papyrus or stone, but Da'yell didn't really care what Thoth said. Whenever he had the chance he would accumulate more information; he had just to be damn careful that no one caught him.
It still felt strange to use the tools that seemed so wondrous to him. But Da'yell was sure that they were nothing else but tools. Strange tools of course, but nothing divine. He didn't need to understand them to use them but figuring out how to use them had been a challenge. In the end Da'yell had done what he had always done best: he had observed and learned. Thoth's arrogance could be rather useful in this matter. By now Da'yell had figured out how to use the recording device his god always used in front of him.
A sad tired smile appeared on Da'yell's face. He did not think that Thoth had considered the possibility that his slave would even think about daring to read his private records.
Sighing and surveying the landscape one last time Da'yell turned back to his work. He better be finished before Thoth returned. He didn't want to think what would happen if not.
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The daylight was dying outside the library and Daniel decided that it was high time to return home before the librarian's looks killed him. This woman obviously didn't like it when somebody spent a whole day in her holy halls going through the newest scientific magazines.
Daniel was just packing his things together when an immortal presence washed over him, but he didn't give it much attention. This place was way to public to start a fight and only a really desperate person would fight in such closed quarters, where you collided with a bookcase every second step.
A few seconds later Daniel rued that he hadn't turned around when a cold voice said way to close to his ear:
"Did I finally get you?"
A shiver ran over Daniel's whole body, his heart starting to beat like mad. Chel! Wasn't there a single place in this town left where he could get some peace and quiet?
"What do you want?" Daniel asked without turning around "A fight? Even you aren't that desperate to fight in here!"
"Who says we have to fight in here? You and me are going outside to the roof now. And don't you dare to run away again!"
Now Daniel turned around, glaring. Chel was standing there, a satisfied, grim smile on his face, his brown eyes cold and hard with withheld hatred. Daniel swallowed hard, but his own expression was set in determination.
"I won't run if a fight is what you really want"
"Of course I want the fight" Chel hissed angry "Don't even try this with me, Da'yell. It's time to pay"
Daniel sighed. It had been worth a try. Resigned to his fate he grabbed his coat (with his sword) and started towards the backdoor that would lead to the roof of the building. Chel was walking close behind him, so a quick escape wasn't possible. Casting a fast look around Daniel couldn't find any sign of the librarian. Typical. The one time he needed this woman she wasn't there.
Reaching the roof, Daniel shivered in the cold autumn air but nevertheless put his warm coat aside when he drew his sword. This wasn't the light rapier he hid in his apartment or carried sometimes, this was a sword he wielded since over one millennia, a Chinese sword, plain, without needless decorations but forged but a true master of this art. This sword was a bit more heavy and harder to hide, but since his first confrontation with Chel Daniel had once again started to carry this one.
"Why do we have to do this, Chel?" Daniel asked, trying a last time to talk to his Nemesis "It all happened so long ago that no one but us even remembers that time."
"You won't get away, however long you run. I will get you for your betrayal."
Chel's voice shook with barley contained rage. A sad smile played around Daniels features.
"I lost count how many times I told you that it wasn't me who betrayed you. And even if I had been, don't you think that a person can change in a few millennia?"
Chel didn't answer but attacked. Daniel countered the moves grimly. He knew that he had thrown Chel off balance, if only a little bit. If the man would just listen to him long enough without resorting to violence.
Like the last time the fight was evenly matched, but this time Daniel had a small advantage. Chel was mad and it showed in his fighting. Of course, Chel was a way too good swordsman that he would let his feelings interfere with a fight too much, but he was only human and couldn't turn off his emotions.
With every passing minute it became harder for Daniel to see since it was getting dark and there wasn't any artificial light up here. It wouldn't take long and the balance of the fight would turn around. Chel's night vision was a few times better than Daniel's; always had been.
But the approaching night hindered Chel just the same. In the twilight he didn't see how dangerous close the fight had moved towards the unsecured edge of the roof. One step back, to avoid Daniel's sword and suddenly Chel felt himself falling. He just managed to grab the edge with his free hand, the sword still clutched in the other, dangling five storeys high over the earth.
Seeing his opponent fall Daniel dashed forward. He hadn't even noticed that they had already had reached the end of the roof. Looking down carefully, his fear of heights making his stomach queasy, Daniel saw Chel hanging there barley holding on. Daniel didn't think long but threw his sword aside and knelt down at the edge.
"Take my hand, I'll pull you back up!"
The fall wouldn't kill him, at least not permanently, but it would sure hurt like hell. Better avoid it. Chel glared back up at him with nothing but disgust in his face.
"So you can kill me without my sword? I don't think so!"
"You damn idiot!" Daniel hissed back "If I wanted you dead I would just let you fall and then take care of the rest!"
"I won't trust a traitor"
"I am not a traitor!"
A sharp laugh came from Chel at this even if he had clear problems holding on.
"I saw you…"
"And in six-thousand-years…" Daniel interrupted Chel harshly "… it never got through your thick head that you may be wrong? That you didn't know the whole story? Now shut up and give me your hand!"
Chel still glared at him, but Daniel could see in his eyes that he had thought about this before. Seconds later the old determination gleamed back up in Chel's look. Then, to Daniel's horror, Chel just let go of the edge and let himself fall. Daniel stared after him, shock colouring his expression. It took a few minutes for him to compose himself again so far that he could stand up and leave. He just wanted to get home and forget this as fast as possible.
*********************
Another night on the SGC-base. Most personal was sleeping or had gone home. Sam wasn't doing either at the moment, but she was searching for Daniel. She had wanted to ask him something, nothing important, she couldn't even remember what it had been, but she couldn't find him anywhere. He wasn't in his office or in the commissary or anywhere between these two locations. He hadn't gone home either, of this Sam was rather sure, so were could he be? The gym perhaps?
Having nothing else to do and no other idea where to look for her friend, Sam made her way through the grey, long corridors of the base to the gym. Looking around there she stopped dead in her tracks: the gym was empty safe one lone figure. Daniel. He had a sword in his hands and was moving it around with an ease that spoke of long practice. His movements as he went through the kata were incredible graceful, blurring together until it seemed like an exotic dance.
Sam stared open-mouthed at the familiar and yet so strange figure of her friend. Daniel's eyes were half-closed with concentration, muscles Sam had never realised the archaeologist possessed, rippled with every slow flowing move. A fine gleam of sweat was visible on his exposed skin, showing that he had been doing this for quite some time already.
Until now his movements had been relatively slow, reminding Sam somewhat of Tai Chi, but suddenly Daniel sped up to a point were he seemed only a blur. Sam could only stare.
After about half a minute Daniel stopped, taking deep breaths. Then he looked up and finally noticed Sam who still stood at the gym entrance.
"How long have you been standing there?" he asked rather startled and walked over to her, the sword still in his hand.
"Long enough. When did you start doing martial arts like this? You're pretty good."
Damn good in fact if anybody would have asked for Sam's opinion. She knew a bit about martial arts, came with the job, and so she could recognize that Daniel wasn't a bungler. Actually she had a hard time connecting what she had just seen with her image of Daniel Jackson.
Daniel had gone over to a bench where he had put a towel and started to dry his face. When he turned to Sam a smile played around his lips.
"Like I already told Jack: I started fencing and self-defence while still in college and just stayed with it. It is my way of keeping fit. And Sam? Can you tell me why everybody is always so damn surprised that I do stuff like this? I don't look like such a weakling, do I?"
The last bit was said with a liberal dose of self-irony while he spread his arms and looked down at himself. Sam had to admit that he was right: He did not look weak. Standing in front of her, clad in an oversized tank top and sweat-pants Sam could actually understand the reactions of some of Janet's nurses.
So why did everybody always assume that Daniel was helpless?
"I don't know. Perhaps it is just that you give off the sort of vibes that make everyone want to protect you…"
"Or attack me." Daniel ended Sam's sentence "Janet more or less told me the same. Not that she is any better then the rest, even if she knows what I can do."
The last part of the statement was said so softly that Sam had nearly missed it. She chose not to comment but instead file the information away for later. She had suspected a long time that Janet knew more about Daniel than she was telling. Some people on the base even believed that the two were a couple and just tried to hide it. At least Sam knew that this rumour was just this: a rumour. Cassie would have told her by now if Janet had been seeing anyone. The girl had told Sam once that Daniel and her Mom were nothing but close friends. Nothing else involved. Allegedly Daniel had told Cassie once (when the teenager herself had started to worry about the relationship between her mother and one of her surrogate uncles) that Janet just wasn't his type.
After meeting Sha're Sam could believe this statement.
"Sam? Hey, Earth to Major Carter!"
"What…?" Sam startled out of her musing looking at Daniels mischievous smile.
"Normally it is me who spaces out in the middle of a conversation. Where were you?"
"Nowhere in particular." Sam hurried to say, "Just thinking!"
"I hope it was good thoughts" Daniel replied grinning. He was in a very good mood obviously.
"By the way, was there something you wanted or did you show up by accident?"
Try as she might, Sam couldn't remember why she had went searching for Daniel in the first place.
"I think I was just looking for the only other person likely to be awake at this time of the night. I was getting lonely."
"You were out of coffee." Daniel translated. It was a saying around the base that both Sam and Daniel would only leave their labs/offices when on the search for nutriments called coffee.
"That too." Sam's grin matched Daniel's at this moment.
"Tell you what. We meet in 20 minutes in my office for coffee and you can tell me about the newest gadget you're trying to make work contrary to every law of physics known on earth."
Still smiling she nodded her agreement and left Daniel for his shower. Their late-night conversations were seldom very productive but fun and sometimes together they managed to think up a solution for some problem or another.
*********************
Daniel was walking briskly through the corridors of the SGC, aiming for the infirmary. To any observer it was obvious that Doctor Jackson was very, very annoyed about something. A dangerous situation most of all for the person who had irritated him like this (or anyone who crossed him while in this mood).
Sadly, this time Daniel couldn't take his bad mood out on the person responsible for it.
He had arrived a bit late at the mountain today, but this wasn't the reason for his bad temper (he still didn't understand the military's obsession with punctuality). No, it was the reason why he was late: another run-in with Chel and another narrow get-away. Every time they met up Daniel feared that his luck would finally run out and one of them would end up dead. His luck concerning avoiding the fights would run out eventually.
If Chel just weren't this damn stubborn. Sigmund would have had a field day with the guy's obsessive behaviour (or Daniel's growing paranoia about it.).
All in all Daniel's bad mood was understandable if you knew the facts. The rest of the SGC didn't have the reassurance to know who Dr Jackson was mad at which meant everybody was guessing and avoiding him to the best of their abilities. Daniel Jackson seldom lost his temper but when he did…
At the moment Daniel was on his way over to the infirmary in the search of Janet. He wanted to use her access to the watcher database to see what his friend come nemesis had done during the last few millennia that he still hadn't gotten over Daniel's supposed betrayal. If it hadn't been so sad (if not to mention distinctly annoying) Chel's obsession would have been laughable.
Janet was sitting in her office, doing paperwork. Fiddling with the records of Daniel's latest physical to be exact. It would have become suspicious very fast if she had written the truth every time: that Daniel was perfectly healthy. No normal human was this fit all the time. Hence her altering of the true facts. Finally the 'creative writing' class she had taken in high school was paying off.
//Speak of the devil//, she thought when she saw Daniel walking towards her open office-door. He came in and closed the door behind him.
"I need your help with something, Janet!" he said straight to the point as he sat down in the chair opposite her desk.
"What's going on?"
Sighing deeply Daniel tried to find a way to best explain the situation to Janet without giving too much away. Until now she had no idea about Chel and Daniel wanted to keep it this way. No need for her to know that there was some slightly crazed stalker bent on revenge after him. Janet was just as bad as the rest of SG-1 when it came down to trying to protect him.
"You remember the break-in into my apartment about two month ago?"
"You mean the fight in your home the Colonel interrupted?" Janet clarified, getting interested "You still haven't told me what exactly went down that day."
"I'm coming to that. You see, this duel wasn't exactly a chance encounter. I know the other Immortal. I've known him for quite some time. Throughout the last two months I've had several run-ins with him. It is pure luck that both of us still have our head attached…"
"A Headhunter?" Janet asked and Daniel shook his head.
"I don't think so but I'm not sure. He wasn't the type for this kind of thing back then."
Daniel became silent, obviously remembering something. Janet looked at him for a moment before she asked:
"This Immortal, is he your stalker?"
Daniel looked at her confused.
"My what?"
His question prompted a laugh from Janet.
"You see, both Jack and Sam have come to me on separate occasions asking me if I knew anything about a strange man apparently following you around. They both think you have acquired a stalker and were quite worried about it. To tell the truth, so am I."
A small smile graced Daniels features.
"Yes, that would have been Chel. I didn't think Jack or Sam would actually notice him; he is quite good at what he does… Jan, I want to take a look at his file."
"No Daniel" she said immediately shaking her head as if underlining her point, her voice stern. Daniel felt a good portion of his earlier annoyance return as he answered:
"And why not, Janet? It isn't as if I didn't know about the watchers. With enough time I could hack my way into the files, but I do not have enough time."
Taking a deep breath Daniel continued somewhat calmer:
"Look, I don't want to know were he is or anything, I want to know what he was doing the last couple of centuries. It's nothing that would give me an undue advantage in a fight."
"Okay, but why do you want to look up what this… Chel, was it? What this Chel has done during the last years. I thought you said you knew him."
Daniel sighed again. He really didn't like to think about his estrangement with Chel. It still hurt.
"I have known him but I didn't meet up with him for over one-hundred years; and I haven't really talked to him for much longer. I just want to know what he's been up to all this time… why he still hasn't forgiven me."
The last part was whispered so low that Janet wasn't sure if she had actually heard the words. Deciding to ask him later about it, Janet considered Daniel's request again. She understood his arguments and could see nothing that would put her in conflict with her oath as a watcher. Well, not anymore than she already was with Daniel knowing about her.
"I'm going to look up everything you want but I won't just give you my passwords. Is this acceptable?"
Daniel didn't even consider but nodded. Without losing any more time Janet started her laptop up and made the connection to the watcher-online-database a few seconds later. Daniel moved around the desk after she had made it past the password-protection and studied the display with interest.
"I have no idea which alias he is using at the moment. You have to try with just 'Chel'."
"I have a better idea" Janet answered, opening a new window on her screen "Give me your friends description and I will search the database for it."
"Will that work?"
"Hopefully" Janet replied, smiling "Searching by description alone is a great help with this database since you guys change your names like other people clothes sometimes."
Daniel returned Janet's smile with a little grin and started to describe Chel to her to the best of his ability. The computer returned the search results after about a minute: one match found. Janet opened the online-file and they were immediately greeted by a slightly grainy photograph.
"That's him." Daniel said from behind Janet, his voice strangely tight. Curiosity woken she started reading, while Daniel did the same over her shoulder.
Aseem alias Lysander alias Michael alias Faysal Mutazz alias Matthew Charleston alias Charles Timming alias Najir Kondo alias David Nahd…
There were about half a dozen other aliases most of them sounding like they originated from the Middle East. Looking at the photo Janet could understand why.
According to the file he was approximately 1500 years old (like with most of the 'older' Immortals the watchers weren't sure about the exact age) and had spent a majority of his long life in one military organisation or another. Nevertheless he didn't have a reputation of a bloodthirsty man, on the contrary. When possible he avoided confrontations with his own kind and he chose the fights he fought in. He seemed to have a fondness for fighting for suppressed minorities or for people who lived in oppression of either a government or local thugs. The last decade he had spent his time in Arizona working as a self-defence teacher part-time. About three months ago he vanished from view, loosing his watcher quite efficiently. Since then, no one had seen him.
This was getting stranger by the minute. The Immortal wasn't exactly a peaceful man, but no one who would go looking for a fight either. A protector through and through.
"Daniel, why would this man go after you like this? He isn't a Headhunter, more, he never seemed to actually go looking for a challenge."