~*~*~*~*~
Heavy armament at hand, Heero Yuy watched Sally and her team work through thick glass, not even glancing toward the door as it opened. Let the other Preventers in the room handle it. The stranger was strapped down and sedated under the strictest biohazard containment they could throw together this quickly, but none of that might make a difference if the Reaver took him over again. "Quatre."

"Everybody's home. Everyone's safe," the empath reported. Tilted his head, sensing at the bloody drama below. "And I think we're beating it. Shi no Yami's growing in him again; I can hardly feel the Reaver at all."

Heero nodded. "Good plan."

The small blond smiled. "Well, you know Duo."

Yes. Even captured, their Shinigami made it easy to find him. All you had to do was look for the largest source of chaos. "Why here? Why not a main Alliance hospital?"

Quatre paused, then grinned, nodding toward the hall. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Get away from me with that needle, sister!"

Heero stalked into the hall, not at all surprised to see a scantily-clad Maxwell facing off with a sour-faced Nurse Leiko. Apparently Duo had already taken her two falls out of three; his hospital gown was dusty and askew, and if it weren't for the loose hair falling around him like a chestnut river, he'd have a serious modesty problem.

Not that Duo ever had a modesty problem. But Leiko was about to have a broken bones problem, if that glint in violet eyes was any indication. "Duo."

"No more poking!" Duo jabbed a finger the nurse's way. "You say I test clean. You got your samples. You got my clothes. You washed my hair, with your friggin' killer soap, went through it with a fine-toothed comb - and that hurt, damn it! No. More. Needles!"

Leiko stood her ground. "Standard protocol requires-"

"Review your standard protocol on Shinigami," Heero said levelly. "If he's free of contamination now, it's dead. And you have other patients to attend."

"I-" Leiko met his gaze, swallowed her words. "Of course."

Duo let out a relieved breath as Leiko vanished down the hall, rubbing his beloved hair between his fingers. "Thank you, Hee-chan. That lady just won't take 'that hurts' for an answer-"

Heero narrowed his eyes; though he knew it'd have little effect. Duo Maxwell, Pilot 02, was one of the few people who could meet his gaze and never flinch. "You risked contaminating this base. Why?"

Duo glanced at Quatre. Raised a brow. Clear?

"No one's listening," Heero said flatly, even as the empath nodded. "Why?"

"Had to," Duo said frankly. "Can you imagine what kind of tangles the Alliance Council would knot themselves up in if word got out we had a Tau'ri in custody?"

Heero blinked. Wondered if his senses had finally, inexplicably decided to scramble their input. Reran the past few seconds of his photographic memory, and glared at Duo.

Duo grinned.

"He... you... Duo, are you sure?" Quatre managed.

"Spoke English, knew how to handle a knife, zat, and a staff weapon when he's sure as hell not a Jaffa, and went off on some long, involved tangent about Dimme and Lamashtu being demon daughters of Anu when he was distracting the guard," Duo ticked off on his fingers. "And Dimme said he was, and she was going to make him into a Reaver to get at Earth."

Earth. Place of myth, of legend, of System Lord curses. Homeworld of humanity. The one planet that had ever thrown off Ra's yoke and lived to tell of it.

The planet that, just a few short years past, had reopened its Stargate and cast down System Lord after System Lord to screaming destruction.

Earth. After so long. Stheno's own luck. "Only you," Heero sighed, brushing his fingers gently over that chestnut waterfall. He could still feel traces of harsh disinfectants lingering in Duo's hair; no wonder the pilot had wanted to maim Leiko.

Quatre's eyes were wide. "But I can feel... and Shi no Yami's not on Earth, it'd be in the databases...." He searched Duo's face. "You?"

"Had to." Duo winced. "Didn't have time to ask, didn't have time to explain - I couldn't let him decide to die, Quatre. I just couldn't."

Thumping doors cut off any response; a disheveled Sally Po trudged toward them, eyes aglitter with medical triumph. "We got it."

Heero nodded. He'd expected no less. "Is Daniel stable?"

"Stable as he'll get, for now," Sally said judiciously. "Yuy. You are going to tell me why you had no medical records on this man. I had to run allergy checks in the middle of a medical emergency. Two of our immune boosters would have given him fits, and that's not even counting Shinigami sensitivities. Your people throw me some loops, Duo, but I have never seen someone allergic to Jakareth before. Where on Sanq is he from?"

"Well," Duo shrugged, hair shifting over cotton. "That's the tricky part...."

~*~*~*~*~
Ow.... Daniel Jackson winced, letting his body report in before he tried anything as daring as opening his eyes. Fever, aches, one deep ache in his left arm, nausea.... Knew I should have gotten that flu shot.

Wait a minute. He had gotten the shot. Janet had played porcupine herself, wicked smile on her face throughout. Though maybe that had been at the prospect of impaling Jack next.

Not the flu. Daniel drew in a slightly deeper breath; yep, dry, sore throat. And... flowers? Jasmine, and a citrus tang that didn't quite smell like anything he remembered. And not the infirmary... wait a second. Is that snoring?

Curious, Daniel opened his eyes.

Duo was draped over a reclining chair, a gold-and-tan blanket with blurry Celtic knotwork patterns of scarlet and emerald tugged up around his shoulders. His mouth was open, his braid was dangling off the chair like a slumbering cat's tail, and he was definitely snoring.

Teenager, Daniel thought, almost chuckling. Nobody past college can sleep like that... wait. Under the snoring, a whisper of sound - a footstep?

A woman cleared her throat. "Daniel? Are you awake now?"

Daniel stared toward the blur moving toward his bed. Blonde, shorter than he was, definitely taller than Janet. Wearing a white jacket over what looked like army greens, side pockets full of unidentifiable instruments. "You speak English?" With an accent, definitely, but it was English. How? "Duo didn't speak English-"

"Duo was in the middle of a firefight and didn't want to take chances on getting a word wrong." Her voice was serious as she stepped into view, but she was smiling. "I'm Dr. Sally Po. I've been looking after you for the past few days." She held out a familiar shape of wire and glass.

"Days?" Daniel slipped on his glasses, took a look around. Comfortable, white-walled room, some hanging nature scenes on the walls, a few bleeping machines in the corner. Yep, infirmary. "I was out for days?" And you speak English? Where'd you learn English? She could be Goa'uld. The System Lords spoke English, after Apophis had apparently extracted it from a few kidnapped SGC personnel.

But System Lords didn't have an accent. And Sally did.

Like Duo's language, Daniel recalled, vaguely remembering a lot of swearing as the death glider hit atmosphere. Japanese, some Celtic roots, Chinese, something that could've been Toltec - and Akkadian? What a mess.

"You were very sick," Sally said bluntly. "At first, we weren't sure you were going to make it." She gestured toward a fold-around tray bearing a trio of mugs; one looked like water, one of something hot and chocolaty, and one full of what looked and smelled like the local variant of chicken soup. "Here. Let me help you sit up."

It took Sally's help to lean back against the head of the bed; every muscle in his body seemed to have gone on strike. Ow, ow, ow - uh-oh. That still blur he'd thought was a shadow - wasn't.

Dark, unruly hair falling into storm-blue eyes. Another teenager, though this one was few inches taller and much, much more Japanese than Duo. And much more heavily armed.

Japanese with a little mix of something else, Daniel thought, opting to ignore the zat at the kid's belt and the other gun-shaped objects scattered around his tank top and shorts that weren't so obvious. Janet had guards in the SGC infirmary when a stranger dropped in, he couldn't blame Sally for having one in hers. Sally looks... hmm. Partly Chinese, mostly a mix. And I could probably drop Duo in any American city and lose him in five minutes flat.

Interesting information. Which means what, Dr. Jackson?

Which means we don't just have mixed languages, we definitely have mixed ethnic groups. But they're not blended ethnic groups. So... mingled, partly separate cultures? If they've got colonies, those could act a lot like islands - they've got space travel, but it's not like taking the bus....

"Daniel?" Sally was frowning.

"Sorry. Thinking."

Dr. Po moved the tray around, locked it into place so he could reach everything with minimal effort. "Think with some water."

Daniel nodded, sipping the cool drink before his shaking muscles demanded he set the mug back down. Slid a glance to the thick white wrap around his sore left arm. "How bad is it?"

"Your arm? Healing," Sally said briskly. "The Reaver infected you all the way down to the bone; we had to cut a section out and put in..." She searched for the right English word, shook her head. "Supports, to hold the healing ends in alignment. They'll dissolve as your body re-deposits bone in place." She took a small gray cylinder out of her pocket, switched on a slim beam of light. "Right now I'm still worried about your head."

Oh no. The Penlight of Doom. "Nobody hit me in the head-"

The guard snorted softly.

"You probably don't remember it," Sally allowed, aiming the tortuous beam into one eye, then the other. "Just before the two of you landed, the Reaver got enough influence to make you attack Duo. He - ah - had to bang your skull off a few things."

Daniel shivered. "Is he all right?" Maxwell looked all right, lying there peaceful as an exhausted kitten, but this was an infirmary.

A sound that might have been a soft snicker whispered from the grim teen.

Sally looked surprised. "Right... I forgot. You've never heard of Shinigami." A true smile crossed her face. "It'd take a lot more than you to hurt Duo. Trust me."

"Not that you weren't trying," a sleepy voice mumbled. Violet eyes blinked at him. "Morning." Duo glanced toward Sally. "It is morning, right?"

"More or less," Sally said judiciously. "Looks like you'll live... what?"

Daniel swallowed. "There's something in your hair." He'd thought it was just a flash of blue ribbon, but- "It's moving." And there was more than one. Erk.

Sally stiffened, then slipped into a mask of professional concern and stepped away from his bed. "I'll leave you to your breakfast. The Wing will want to ask you some questions, later-"

"Sally. Sally, don't." Duo scrambled out from under his blanket, caught her arm before she reached the door. "He's not one of those Purist creeps. He just doesn't know." Still holding on, he turned back. "Daniel. This is Sally Po. Our doctor, and one of my best friends."

Purists? Daniel thought, seeing the plea for understanding in Duo's eyes. And Dimme said something about... sports in the gene pool. She's a mutation?

And the silent teen was watching him very carefully.

Diplomacy time, Daniel. Not to mention she probably saved your life. And if she left now, the curiosity would eat him alive. "Can I see?"

Sally sighed. "Scream, and I sedate you." She raised a hand to her hair, massaged her scalp-

And pale, electric-blue spotted tendrils rose out of blonde hair.

Like octopus arms, Daniel thought, stunned. Or anemone tendrils... didn't Sam say something about in bright blue in vertebrates, the time you tried to touch that little salamander on PX-537? "Are you poisonous? No, wait, Sam said the right word was venomous, right - ah, I didn't mean that the way it sounded-"

"Yes, I am," Sally said simply. "And relax. I'm not going to sting you just for staring. My father came from the L5 group, originally; most of his clan had never seen a medusa before he brought my mother home for the wedding."

"And since then, they love you to pieces every time you visit. Just like Wufei." Duo bounced back over to Daniel's bed, braid twitching. "Guess that really works with the whole honorable warrior gig. Stick your hand where a lady doesn't like it, and you're out for hours-"

"Duo!"

"Aw, c'mon, Sally. Can't you just shoot him somewhere non-fatal so 'Fei can think he's dying and confess his eternal love for you, or something? 'Cause I gotta tell you, he sits in the hangar and broods, and then he checks over Shenlong, and then he broods some more, and then he sharpens that sword of his with a lot of 'injustice' and 'not worthy' scattered in there, and-"

Daniel stared in pure fascination. Duo was grinning. Sally had one hand clapped to her forehead, tendrils settling back into blonde hair, cheeks a mortified pink. And the guard cleared his throat.

Not a guard after all, Daniel realized, sensing the automatic shift of attention from the other two. This guy is in charge.

"Heero Yuy," the grim teen said simply. "You're in a Wing safehouse, on the free planet of Sanq. The Reaver is dead. Dimme's ha'tak is destroyed. The Sweepers found a Stargate in the wreckage; we assume Dimme survived. She has no other ships near our system. It will take her some time to regroup and attack again. Questions?"

Loads. Why do you speak English? How'd you blow up a ha'tak? What's a Sweeper? "Why did you blow a hole in the hangar?" Daniel blurted out.

Heero's expression was still as the sea over a gaping abyss. "It distracted your opponents."

"Like I said, subtle he's not," Duo shrugged. "Problem?"

"Oh no," Daniel muttered. "I love staring at hard vacuum."

"Great!" Duo clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll fit right in with the rest of us maniacs."

Fit in? Well, that's better than... no. Wait. "I need to contact my people. I need to warn them-"

"We're assembling everything we have on the Reaver samples Duo brought back," Sally nodded. "If you can give us an address where they'll find it, we'll send it through."

Just like that? Wait, wait.... "I'd rather bring it to them. If you don't mind."

Heero didn't blink. "Not possible."

I'll give you not possible, damn it-

Duo cleared his throat. "What Heero means is, right now Trowa's kitten could take you with one fuzzy-wuzzy little paw behind its back. You're in no shape to go through a 'Gate. Period."

Daniel put one foot on the floor. Dizzy. But you can stand. Probably. "I've been worse."

Sally frowned, her scowl so like Janet when he did something stupid that Daniel slipped his foot back under the covers. "Not with Shi no Yami in your system, you haven't."

Daniel rolled the term around in his mind. "Shadow Death?"

Duo glanced away. "Ah, yeah. That would be my fault."

And the day, as Jack would put it, just kept getting better. "You're contagious?"

"Not usually." Sally folded her arms and mock-glared at Duo. "Unless somebody gets really creative."

"Hey!" The braided teen held up defensive hands. "I haven't heard any of your lab techs coming up with anything else that could've stopped that thing!"

"Not without full medical support within fifteen minutes of initial exposure," the doctor sighed. "And even that would be tricky."

"I'm... infected?" Daniel whispered. Shinigami. Little God of Death. It was right in front of my face, and I didn't see it....

"You two, out," Sally ordered.

Heero straightened.

"No," Sally said bluntly. "No questions, no orders, no demands. Give him some time. Give him some room. Out."

The door closed. Sally scraped the folding chair across the floor, sat down by his side. "Soup," she instructed. "Your blood sugar's probably in the basement."

No kidding. Daniel sipped carefully. Hmm... not chicken. Kind of tastes like crocodile. He didn't feel like eating. But Jack had drummed it into his head; if you want to escape, keep your strength up. Any way you can.

Sally supported his arm when it shook, helping until he'd finished that mug and started on the chocolate. "Duo was trying to save your life, Daniel. And he did. Without Shi no Yami attacking the Reaver, we never could have gotten it all in time."

"I believe you." Strange as it sounded. Every move Duo had made on Dimme's ship had been attack, run, escape. The moves of a young man bent on life, not death. "But... what's in me?"

Sally brought out a small gray-and-blue box, flipped it open to reveal a lighted screen. Small amoeboid forms the size of white blood cells moved across the image of a network of veins and arteries, pulsing through blood vessels, squirming into cells, occasionally coalescing into a larger, silver-gray lump to seal a tear in the artery wall. "Shi no Yami."

"A slime mold?" Daniel shuddered at the thought of creatures like that swarming through his blood, feeding, breeding.... That settles it. I've been watching way too many nature specials with Sam.

"I don't know what that is," Sally shrugged. "Shi no Yami is a symbiotic, slightly empathic, mostly unicellular creature that can coalesce and act as a multi-cellular unit under stress. It lives in the circulatory and nervous systems, and it tends to get really, really annoyed if something else tries to take over its territory." She looked him full in the eye. "Once Duo established both types of spores in your system, you were its territory."

"Spores?"

Sally held up paired fingers. "One type in the blood, one in the saliva. Both have to recombine in your system to start it breeding. Otherwise, the spores die."

Hence the deep kiss. Daniel felt his face redden. "Um...."

"Duo gave me a full report." Amusement glinted in blue eyes. "So is he as good a kisser as Hilde says?"

Oh, I so don't want to go into that. "How'd you come up with this stuff?"

The humor drained out of Sally's face. "We didn't. Nemain did. It used to be a bio-weapon. Airborne. Fatal. And a very ugly way to die." The doctor smiled, without humor. "Only one batch had a genetic hiccup. And we got Shinigami."

"Nemain. One of the Morrigu?" Badb, Nemain, and Macha; Celtic goddesses of war, death and fertility. Goa'uld. "But - Dimme said you were rebelling against her?"

"We did. And we are. It's a long story." Sally pointed toward a pair of slippers by the bed. "Feel up to a short walk?"

~*~*~*~*~
"Sweeps of the Goa'uld moon base are clear; Dimme lifted off once she'd confirmed a Sanq strike team on board. Noin reports the three surviving Jaffa taken from the base are on suicide watch. No indication of biological or other devices of mass destruction. Continuing negative reports from the outer net," Heero concluded, sweeping a finger through the hologram of the Sanq system to zoom out to the farthest edges of their sensor nets. Maps, reports, various notepad computers, and a host of snacks were scattered over the polished bronzewood of a Winner family informal dining table. Wufei was consulting the latest data heist at one end, katana slung over the back of his chair; Heero was pacing around the other. Across the table, Quatre and Trowa had simply dragged a couch into comfortable reach of the goodies. "Unless she's employing an unknown cloaking device, Dimme has no presence in-system."

And me in the middle. Reluctantly setting down his mug of mocha by a notepad, Duo shook his head. "I didn't get a good look through all the data we grabbed-"

"Before she grabbed you?" Wry humor glinted in Trowa's visible green eye as the Beastmaster stroked the young esmeril curled on the couch beside him. The fur-winged cat yawned, exposing saber teeth, and settled her head on his lap.

"Go ahead. Rub it in. Since when do Goa'uld put sensors in the air vents?" I notified Ran's family yesterday....

"Since you." Quatre reached over Trowa's lap to rub behind silver-furred ears, sympathy in his smile. "She survived Lamashtu, Duo. We knew Dimme wouldn't be an easy target."

Yeah. He knew it. Ran's team had known it. And sometimes even the best thief on L2 met a system he couldn't crack. At least, not the first time, Duo vowed. "Anyway. It didn't look like Dimme'd gotten in touch with anybody who messes with cloaks."

"Unlikely," Wufei agreed, tapping his screen. "These files mention the personal invisibility device employed by Nirrti, and a few investigations into other reports of 'invisible' places or creatures, but nothing more concrete."

"Hn."

The, "I'd like to be more paranoid but right now it's a waste of mission time" grunt, Duo translated mentally, burying his nose in his cup as Heero tapped his fingers once on the table. Let me guess, the next order of business is going to be-

"Daniel." Heero's gaze rested on Quatre. "Trustworthy?"

"He wants to trust us," the blond nodded. "But he's very worried about his people. As long as we hold him, even if he knows he's not well enough to travel, he's not going to trust us completely."

"He should heal quickly enough," Wufei noted. "Perhaps too quickly?"

Duo held up halting hands before their Dragon could follow that thought any further. "Whoa, 'Fei. I saw his eyes. It'll be a few weeks before he's ready to head into hostile territory again. At least a few days before he should 'Gate anywhere, even to someplace friendly."

"Still too soon. The Council will need time to deliberate over the appropriate formation of a diplomatic team." Wufei scowled. "Probably months."

"Possibly." A slight smile touched Heero's face.

Duo rested his chin in his hands, blinked innocently. "Do I spy a man with a plan?"

"Noin and Zechs are speaking with Relena."

"And the world trembles in terror," Duo said solemnly. "Or maybe that's shaking with laughter... you do know those three are a bad mix, right?"

"In combat situations."

Uh-huh. Kind of like nitro and glycerin. Stable if you were careful, but one little jar, and - boom! "Your call, Heero. I'll bring the ear protectors."

"I think it might work." Quatre looked hopeful. "We'd need to talk to Daniel's people first anyway before Command could bring any proposals to the Council. And she's a Peacecraft. People will respect her opinions."

"She's a pain," Duo grumbled. "How anybody could even sit down and listen to the Purists-"

"They are idiots," Wufei observed. "Unfortunately, they are our idiots." The dark-haired teen looked thoughtful. "And few of them will offer an honorable challenge."

"Duels aren't the most civilized way to solve personal problems, Wufei," Quatre said calmly.

"They are entirely civilized. A fallen enemy causes no further dissent."

"Wufei-" Blue eyes lost focus. "Sally's bringing him." Quatre looked across the table. "He's not angry with you, Duo. Not really."

"No offense, lil' Cat, but I'm going to wait on that," Duo said practically, listening to footsteps at the edge of hearing. "Could take a while for it to sink in." He'd known he was different for years before Father and Sister Helen had taken in a violet-eyed street waif and explained Maxwell and Shinigami.

Angel of Death. I can live with that. Question is, can he?

And the man himself walked through the door on Sally's arm, still-blue eyes brightening behind his glasses as he sniffed the air. "You have coffee!"

~*~*~*~*~
Mmm. Coffee. Almost a coca mocha, sweet and rich and chocolaty - but never mind, it was coffee.

Oh yeah. We have found civilized people.

Daniel lifted his head from dark nectar, suddenly aware that something was a little off. "Um... usually Janet won't let me have coffee after an injury," he explained, holding the mug out with regret.

Sally shook her head, waving the cup back. "I wouldn't keep a medusa off citrus. I wouldn't isolate an empath. Believe me, I know better than to get between a Shinigami and caffeine."

Duo waved his own mug, grinning.

Shinigami need coffee? Daniel thought, finding his way to an empty chair between Duo and the Chinese teen with the tight black ponytail. I wish Janet were here...what the heck is that?

Silver fur. Mottled snow-gray batwings. And teeth. "Nice kitty...." A sudden, dark suspicion struck. Daniel looked at the faintly smiling teen in jeans and dark blue turtleneck stroking the not-quite-a-cat, features a mix of Eastern Europe and Latin America, brunet bangs obscuring all but one green eye. "Trowa?"

A slight nod.

Daniel shot a pointed look Duo's way. "Trowa's kitten?"

Duo just shrugged, still grinning. Dark sleeves were rolled up into white cuffs just above his elbows, and a small gold sun-cross glinted out of his collar. Daniel blinked, trying to shake the image of a Celtic angel who'd skipped out of Heaven to join up with the banshees. "Cute, huh?"

"That thing could take on a squad of Marines!"

"Not," Trowa said quietly, "Without help."

"Quatre Rebarba Winner." A small blond rose off the couch by Trowa, hands pressed together as he bowed, never mussing the neat lines of his embroidered violet vest and pink shirt. "Please, be welcome in my house."

Daniel scraped his chair back and returned the bow, fighting a swirl of dizziness. Manners now. Pass out later. "Daniel Jackson. I am honored." His house. Heero's in charge, but the house is Quatre's. Which was... not that bad a setup, come to think. As a representative of Earth, he might have to be rude to Heero. This way, he could defend the SGC and still be courteous and respectful to the master of the household.

It was polite. Considerate. Thoughtful.

I'm not going to cry, I'm not....

"Daijobu yo." Duo's hand found his arm, guided him back into his chair. "Take it easy, Daniel. Nobody's court-formal here. 'Specially not when we just came off the casualty lists. Okay?"

Daniel took a steadying breath. Nodded. Court-formal. He filed the term for later consideration. Implies they've got certain strict social settings and rules in them, which fits with the Japanese overtones.... And violet eyes were still waiting for an answer. "Okay."

"Trowa Barton." Trowa nodded slightly.

The black-haired teen stood in a whisper of white, bow rigidly correct. "Chang. Wufei. Dragon clan."

"We've met," Heero said simply.

"And this is Hrere." Quatre let the winged cat sniff his fingers. "She's an esmeril."

"Originally one of Susanowo's creations," Heero stated. "He loosed them on Sanq approximately a thousand years ago. They've adapted well."

Susanowo. The Japanese storm god? Nemain, Lamashtu, Dimme... oh. My. Daniel looked around the room again, seeing with fresh eyes. Five main cultural groups, and a sixth which is a mix of all of them. All here, working together. And-

Bright colors caught his eye. Daniel rose from the table, crossed the room to stand by a swath of gem-toned canvas set in pride of place in the center wall. "What is this?"

"It's a painting," Quatre said, puzzled. "By Rhoslin Oran. Some people think she's too naturalistic, but I like her work better than the Mechanistic school...."

Daniel shook his head. I can't believe I'm seeing this. A dawn scene, beautiful in itself; the artist had caught that faint, frail green sky of day almost breaking, framed between blue shading into darkness and the thin rim of gold that promised the sun. But the subject.... "No, I mean - does it have a name?"

Heero stepped up beside him. "Stheno Coatlicue Defeats Lamashtu."

Oh gods.

Fighters shot through the dawn sky, obviously less advanced versions of the Gundams, pursuing death gliders with bolts of light. In the background human forces harried lion-helmed Jaffa toward a burning ha'tak; blood spilled over the grass, and one form was caught in that fleeting glow which was a third zat blast. And in the foreground....

A ha'tak stood open to form a courtyard at its peak, as he'd seen Ra's ship split apart on Abydos. Atop it more Jaffa, one obviously Lamashtu's First Prime, were losing to a motley group of humans and creatures. Medusa on the far right, Daniel identified the twisting tendrils. The others... all six peoples. They're all here. And - is that a Jaffa fighting with them?

And in the very center, drawing the eye like a magnet-

Lamashtu's lion-mask was half-retracted, eyes already glazing in death. Above her stood a braid-crowned woman of Trowa's people in serpent-patterned skirts, chest bloody, ribbon device aglow, face fierce and set as an avenging angel. "She's Tok'ra?"

"No. She was a System Lord." Heero's voice was level. "But she believed in freedom."

Daniel swallowed. "When did this happen?"

"About forty Tau'ri years ago, I think," Sally said after a second's thought. "The databases we have aren't that clear on how much longer Sanq's year is than yours."

Quatre smiled. "We've been free for over two generations."

"And fighting for all of it," Wufei stated coolly. "It is to our fortune that most System Lords who did not use this system have no idea of its location."

Used it? For what? Daniel's gaze fell on Sally, and then Duo, and he resisted the urge to smack himself in the head, Jack-style. "Bio-weapons. They were creating bio-weapons. To use against humans."

"Worse. Against Nirrti. And the Tok'ra. Which, you know, falls under the category of bad idea," Duo shook his head. "At least for them."

Them? "How many System Lords used Sanq?"

"Eight." Heero's gaze was matter-of-fact. "Lamashtu. Dimme. Babd, Nemain, and Macha. Susanowo. Yu Huang Shang-Ti." He paused. "And Stheno Coatlicue."

"We've met Yu," Daniel said absently.

"Hm."

"But I haven't heard about the others...." Daniel paused at the very, very faint hint of smile on Heero's face. "You've got to be kidding."

"Oh no." Duo waggled his eyebrows. "Heero does not kid about taking down System Lords."

Daniel stood there a moment, thoughts a blur. "I need to sit down."

Chair. Solid. Good. At least they have chairs. I don't think I could handle sitting on mats right now. "You know I'm Tau'ri."

"The Preventers have been searching seized databases for other rebels for years," Wufei nodded.

Quatre's blue-green eyes were alight with mischief. "Although the last hologram we had of you had much longer hair, Dr. Jackson."

They know who you are, and you're not locked in a cell, tortured, or being turned over to a System Lord. This... might just be legit.

"Is there an address we can contact your people at?" Heero asked. "A neutral address. One that would not threaten your people, or ours."

Daniel licked his lips. This could be real. It really could be. But I don't know. I'm alone, and - I'm scared. Jack, I want you here.... "There is one."

After all, if Vikings backed by the Asgaard can't handle these people, no one can.

~*~*~*~*~
Dark, cold, the light of a thousand stars-

Quatre stepped out of the Stargate onto the gray stone platform, inhaling scent of grass and pine trees. Rashid and a handful of Maguanacs had already fanned out, Trowa and Wufei in their center, scanning the clearing for danger. "So here we are."

"Cimmeria." Trowa ruffled Petky's green-gold feathers, whistling softly to the hawk riding his shoulder. Hrere was too untrained to take near these strangers, but no Beastmaster would walk through a 'Gate alone.

"The transport device to the Hammer," Wufei nodded at the granite obelisk carved with the Asgaard's mark. "As Heero warned us."

"I wish Daniel had trusted us enough to tell us more than just 'it's protected by the Asgaard'," Quatre sighed, stepping down to the grass. A breeze struck him, and he shivered despite his heavy coat. Cold! L4 wasn't cold. Sanq wasn't cold. At least, not the places most sane people lived. Although Trowa kept telling him he really could get to like that weird chill fluff called snow. "If Heero hadn't remembered the address...."

"We would have found the same information in our databases in time to prevent complications. Only a weak warrior gives away his allies' protections." Sword at his side, Wufei strode to the rearguard position just as Petky chirped warning. "We're about to meet our hosts."

Belatedly, Quatre extended his spaceheart. Usually he had a little more time after a tumble across the universe to reorient his empathy. Right now, all he could feel were pinpricks of wariness, alarm, curiosity-

"You're much too short to be gods."

Quatre smiled up at the tall, leather and wool-clad woman with red-brown hair, taking in the height and solid frame that spoke of a life spent on-world. Oh, angels. They're all going to be taller than we are. Not taller than the Magaunacs; the space-going mercenaries had had access to more intense grav training than even the wealthiest colony-born got on a general basis. But the shortest of the hammer-armed men he sensed around the clearing had a good hand's width of height on Wufei.

Oh well. It's not like we're not used to it. Half the Preventers were Sanq-born, after all; though even they weren't quite this solid. "Hello. My name is Quatre Rebarba Winner," the empath said in careful Goa'uld; the woman's accent was unlike anything he'd ever heard before. "I'm looking for Lady Gairwyn?" He rested his hand on the side of the soft duffel slung over his shoulder. "I've brought a message from Daniel Jackson."

"A message from Daniel?" That drew attention; flashes of leather and steel appeared at the edge of the clearing, even as Gairwyn strode within easy reach. "How? Why? Is he not with you?"

"Daniel was wounded in battle with the ettin Dimme, fighting alongside one of my people, and lost his way home," Quatre said with a respectful nod, trying to match her odd manner of speech. "So we brought him to our world, where he might find rest and healing. He asked us to bring word of him to you, who he counts as friends, so you might in turn speak of his escape to his home on Earth, where we cannot yet go."

That drew wariness, though her smile barely slipped. "And why can you not go there yourselves, young ones?" Her gaze fell on ominous granite. "You have passed the Hammer. You are not of the ettins."

"But nor are we known to the warriors of Earth," Quatre shrugged. Harmless, he projected. I'm harmless. See? No need for the heavy iron, we're just passing through. "The wards will not pass us, and this message must reach his people."

He sensed Gairwyn relax. But she held out her hand, firm as any Council diplomat. "I will look at this message, then."

"Of course, Lady." 'Fei was right, Quatre thought, feeling the Dragon's subtle smirk as he unzipped the duffel. They may not be suspicious, but they won't trust blindly. Thank goodness all Sally's delicate samples had been packed in tamper-proof containers. "It's kind of a lot of message, though."

"Daniel has been scribbling again." But Gairwyn's face eased into a true smile as she leafed through the pile of ink-lined pages. "It is his hand." She touched one of the metal containers. "And these?"

"Some of the venom that wounded Daniel, for his healer Janet to see," Wufei put in quietly. "It might be dangerous unleashed. So we have caged it."

"You do have a tongue, then, strange one." Gairwyn smirked. "I'd wondered."

Strange one? Quatre thought, trading a bewildered glance with Trowa. What made Wufei any stranger than the rest of them?

Gairwyn's gaze fell on Rashid. "And you?"

"Quatre speaks for us here, Lady Gairwyn," the tall mercenary leader said evenly. "We don't wish to offend."

Thanks, Rashid, Quatre thought gratefully. I know it was hard to leave off the honorifics... but we don't know these people, we don't know what kind of trouble we could stir up if they thought some of us had power over the others.

"So Daniel fought an ettin, and yet lives, once again." Gairwyn shook her head. "For one who claims to be a simple student of runes, he has more battle-luck than half the warriors in Valhalla."

And I didn't understand half of that. Oh boy. "It's kind of a long story," Quatre admitted.

"The day is young." Gairwyn waved toward a path leading into the woods away from the clearing, where a number of tall... very tall... blond warriors were grinning their way into view. "Come! We shall prepare to send your message. You will tell us of our rune-wielder's valiant deeds, and the skalds will make a song of it that will set Thor's heart ablaze!"

Trowa's visible brow arched. Wufei made a slight choking noise. "A song?" Rashid muttered under his breath.

"Sure," Quatre said brightly. "Hold the 'Gate?"

"Hmm." I hope you know what you're doing, Master Quatre, that glower meant.

I hope so too, Quatre thought, sensing Wufei fall in on their rearguard as Trowa sent Petky into the alien sky and covered his left. But they feel friendly. Daniel says they are friendly. And they're doing us a favor. We should at least be polite and talk to them, right?

Right. They were just going to talk.

What could possibly go wrong?

~*~*~*~*~
I never would have dreamed the SGC has this many hideaways, Sam Carter thought tiredly. But even in the depths of this out of the way janitor's closet, the healing device still gave back that low thrum Selmac said meant clear. Which meant they were finally, nerve-wrackingly, done.

Climbing out of the cleaning supplies, Sam made her way to the nearest phone. "Janet? We're clean."

A soft sigh of relief came down the line. "I'll tell the general."

Hanging up, Sam pushed stray blonde stands out of her face with a dusty hand. "You're awful quiet, Dad. Worried about the High Council?"

Jacob waved it off, still frowning. "They still think you were being overcautious, but I hit 'em with a few of Janet's horror stories. And there have been some... weird rumors coming off Gault." The ex-general gave her a rueful smile. "Garshaw finally convinced the others that a few days wouldn't hurt anyone. Though Anise still says it's a ploy to get me some time with my daughter."

"Oh, for crying out loud...." The major took the bronze-hued healing device off her hand, gingerly flexing her fingers. Her hands were itchy with dust, her nose was running, and her head felt like a heavy-metal band was doing warm-ups in the back. Bleah. "What kind of rumors?"

"Things in the night," Jacob said succinctly. "People disappearing. And when they're seen later, if they're seen, they're different."

Sam added one and one, and got three. "And you don't think it's just people being taken as hosts."

"The Council does." Jacob frowned. "But something about the way they're reported to act just seems - off. Off enough that Selmac's considering letting us borrow a tel'tac without going through Garshaw, just so your team can check it out."

Our team minus one, Sam thought. No. Stop that. We'll find Daniel. We will. "We'd really appreciate that."

"Yeah, well...." Jacob crossed his arms. "Dimme's been out of the main System Lord intrigues for a while. And when Lamashtu's former Queen turns up... I don't like it."

Makes two of us. "Dad. What's really wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." The Tok'ra's ambassador to Earth shrugged, glance sliding aside. "You've got some great people working here, Sammie. Really professional. I don't think I've seen this many friendly faces since the last time I was passing as a native." Holding out a damp paper towel, he forced a smile. "Selmac says you can drop the act, though. At least for us."

"Act?" Sam said blankly, wiping off grime that probably hadn't been disturbed since the first time SG-1 had set foot in Cheyenne Mountain... in 1969. Weird, weird, weird... I never want to time-travel again. Ever.

Her father's smile turned rueful. "Come on, Sam. No bunch of rebels is that happy to see a Tok'ra. Selmac knows that."

Since when is the SGC just a bunch of rebels? Oh yeah. Since the X-301 decided to get a mind of its own near Jupiter, and her own father had told her she shouldn't have messed with death-glider technology. Too advanced for "infantile" Tau'ri, Sam recalled, locking down a sudden spurt of anger. What the hell do you people expect? We're trying to save our planet here! "Dad. Come on. Do you really think the colonel could act like he was happy to see you?"

Her father shrugged wryly. "Can I get back to you on that?"

Sam shook her head. This has got to stop. "Maybe we don't like all Tok'ra, Dad, but you are our allies. And this is your home-"

"Off-world activation," the alarm rang through the halls, even in this out-of-the-way corner. "Incoming traveler-"

Sam's feet flew toward the elevator, Jacob on her heels. There weren't any teams off-world, and the Tok'ra High Council preferred calling via the Tollan device.

Unless they came to take Dad back personally....

It could be a Goa'uld assault; though they hadn't tried that much since Sokar went down the river, as Daniel put it. It could be some other planet they'd contacted. Or even Master Bra'tac, Sam thought, willing the floors to move past faster. Teal'c had been told the elderly Jaffa master had been tortured to death by Heru'ur's sick servant, but they still had no proof. And that's one guy I'm not going to write off without a body, Sam swore. He's tough.

They made it to the 'Gateroom in time to hear Jack's disbelieving, "Cimmeria?"

"Indeed." Teal'c watched the 'Gate's shimmering surface. "I had thought the Asgaard disliked travel by Stargate."

"Aaah!" A familiar, pack-wearing, all too human form tumbled through the wormhole, thumping onto the ramp.

"Looks like they still do." Jack waved the waiting Special Forces back as the 'Gate evaporated, leaving the stone ring silent and empty. His boots rang on the ramp as he walked up and offered a hand. "Gairwyn?"

"Like riding the lightnings...." The Cimmerian woman breathed, locking wrists with Jack to wobble to her feet. Her gaze searched the steel and glass room, wide with the awe Sam had seen in the Hall of Thor's Might. "O'Neill? Teal'c? Is this truly your world?"

"A kind of fortified part of it, but yeah." Jack smiled, leading her down the ramp. "You okay? What's going on? Last time you guys just sent a box...."

Jacob stepped near Sam's shoulder, whisper drowning out Jack's earnest conversation. "She's a Cimmerian? She looks so-" He shook his head, searching for words. "Ordinary."

"They pretty much are," Sam admitted. "They live under the Protected Planets Treaty, like Earth. Only the Goa'uld know there's a Hammer on Cimmeria. So they don't bother it."

"Huh. Have you thought about asking for one?"

"We thought about it," Sam admitted. "But they haven't offered... and it might keep the Tok'ra off Earth, too." We can't fight a war if our own allies can't come here for refuge. Besides, as long as the SGC kept stirring up trouble off-world, the Treaty was just a formality. They knew it, the System Lords knew it, the Asgaard knew it. It would be wrong to ask for a protection granted to innocent worlds.

And they don't want us getting our hands on advanced technology, either.

"Daniel?" Jack had Gairwyn by the shoulders, face deadly serious. "You've seen Daniel?"

Cimmeria. Sam's heart clenched. Of course. If he got away - Daniel would know his GDO wouldn't work. And Cimmeria's one of the few places that can contact us. Of course!

"No." The Cimmerian wrapped her hand around one of his wrists, pointedly prying off O'Neill's white-knuckled grip. "But I have his message, for you and healer Janet." She patted the odd navy-blue duffel she'd brought with her.

It has a zipper, Sam realized. Cimmerians don't have zippers!

"This," Gairwyn said, thrusting the duffel into Jack's startled grip, "Was brought to us by some very strange people."

~*~*~*~*~
And twist, and connect. Holding his breath, Daniel slipped the solenoid back into place.

The death glider's engines thrummed to life.

"Yeah!" Duo pounded him on the shoulder, grinning ear to ear. "You got it!"

"In half an hour." Daniel smiled half-heartedly, leaning back in the pilot's seat of their captured craft. Wow. I wonder if Teal'c knows how to do this. Duo certainly seemed to have it down pat.

Daniel let his eyes roam Quatre's hangar, taking in the neat, well-used racks of tools, the subtle shafts of sunlight coming through concealed skylights, the parts and equipment his hosts could likely use to strip this death glider down and rebuild it from the ground up.

And of course, the tall, quiet, subtly armed Maguanacs working on various small projects around the hangar.

Right. I'm a guest. Sort of.

Though he couldn't blame them for being cautious. This hangar hadn't been built for gliders.

So these are Gundams.

Deadly gray-and-sand hued crafts perched like hawks, watching for prey. Five stood out among the rest; lines sleeker, armament heavier, poised and ready to strike.

White, blue, gold and red - Heero, Daniel identified the Gundam he'd last seen through vacuum. Same colors, but more red - Wufei. One white, black and gold; another white, orange and red. Quatre and Trowa?

And one more, not far from this glider. Black as night, bare hints of gold; so obviously worked for stealth it made Daniel nervous just to be in the same room.

Hey, Deathscythe, Duo had murmured when they came in, stroking that light-drinking black. Miss me?

"Ah, you'll get faster," the braided teen waved Daniel's self-depreciation off now, pulling together the stack of notes scattered over the console. "Thing is, you did it. You've got the knack."

"A knack for stealing death gliders." Daniel tried not to roll his eyes too obviously. "Great."

"Don't knock it," Duo said lightly. "Nothing like shoving a Goa'uld's own tricks in his face when you're in a tight spot. They hate that."

"Yeah." Daniel shivered, remembering Jack and Teal'c's desperate rescue in the outer reaches of the solar system. "Hate it enough to program every glider for a suicide run to get one guy...."

"The old trapped auto-pilot trick?" Duo whistled, digging around in his toolkit. "Nasty. That's why it's a good idea to have one of these." He flourished a palm-sized device.

Another notepad computer, Daniel realized. These guys do love their tech. "And this does?"

Duo's teeth flashed. "Oh, nothing much. Just hacks the auto-pilot. And the comm. And a couple of other nifty little things...."

"I get the idea." Daniel looked at him askance. "And I think I'd have remembered if you had one."

"I didn't," Duo shrugged. "But I can hack 'em without it."

Daniel regarded the teen steadily.

Duo eyed him back, uncertain. "What?"

"Just how smart are you?" Daniel asked quietly.

"What, educated? Nah, not much," Duo shrugged. "Grew up on one of the older colonies at L2, y'know? Putting stuff together and - um - scrounging-"

Read, getting your hands on what you need to stay alive, whether it belongs to you or not, Daniel thought. He'd seen eyes like that before, in Cairo and half a dozen other cities across the globe. Not desperate, not anymore; wherever he'd come from, Duo had gotten out.

But some lessons stuck. Forever.

"Anyway." Duo scratched at his bangs, shrugged. "You want to talk school, you should see one of the other guys. Quatre'd be good for that. Or Heero, maybe, if you can get him to talk...."

Daniel folded his arms. And waited.

Duo let out a slow breath. "I'm a pilot." He shoved the notes toward Daniel's side of the cockpit. "C'mon. Read."

A Gundam pilot? Dimme's shocked voice echoed in Daniel's memory as he leafed through the start sequence again. As if it wasn't the weapon that scared her, but the person who could fly it....

"I'm not going back there!"

Startled out of his study of Goa'uld circuitry, Daniel jerked his head up - and saw stars. Figures, he thought, reeling out of the cockpit. Alloy's even harder than Jack's head.

Duo wiggled out in a more controlled fashion, braid flicking past his shoulder, notes on How to Steal a Death Glider in Under Three Minutes still clutched in his grip. "Quatre! What happened?"

"What didn't?" Quatre practically vibrated into the Wing's hidden hangar, heavy jacket open, a bit of soot in blond hair, shafts of sunlight showing the red bloom on flustered cheeks. "Those - they - ergh!"

Daniel scanned the ship-filled hangar as Quatre collected himself, wondering which shadow Heero was going to pop out of this time. Not that Heero was trying to sneak up on him; the young man just didn't seem to know how to walk normally. Like Jack, the archaeologist thought, absently scanning the mutated kanji on Wufei's Gundam. It looked like ancient Japanese, but there was a definite hieroglyphic twist in there. Almost as if they'd taken the consonantal system of Egypt and melded it with the appropriate strokes to evoke the esthetic of the sound.... Heero's been on recon so many times, he has to think about making noise-

And black symbols suddenly slid into place. Shenlong.

Yes! Daniel stifled the urge to cheer, looking down at Duo's notes instead. One word would lead to others; a few seconds of study and he made out what he thought were no, twist left, and dumb way to wire this.

Duo, the linguist noted, had lousy handwriting. Bet anything he didn't learn to read until someone took him in, Daniel thought, absently keeping track of the shifting light of one of the human-sized hangar doors as Trowa and a fuming Wufei stalked into view. Somebody did take him in, though; Duo's tense, but he's not feral - ack!

"Report," Heero said, appearing out of the shadows.

Bad nervous system. No adrenaline. Daniel tried to take soundless, calming breaths, tensing up all over again as Trowa's silent attention fixed balefully on him. What? What happened?

"The people you sent us to," Wufei shot Daniel a pointed look, "Are madmen."

~*~*~*~*~
"Biohazard," Janet was muttering in a corner of the SGC infirmary, sample containers caged inside an isolation box built to handle Ma'chello's sabotaged page-turners as she read the stack of notes someone had sent along. "Attacks and infects, primarily aims for the nervous system, evidence of mental control - shit!"

Thank god Gairwyn doesn't speak English, Jack thought in passing, holding up a hand to stop the flow of the Cimmerian's story. "Problem?"

Janet tapped a few keys on her computer, let out a breath of relief. "Good. We've still got a good stock of experimental RNA inhibitors." Her face was set as she pointed toward the box. "Metamorphizing venom."

"As in, BP6-3Q1?" Sam paled.

"Who where?" Jack demanded. Names, why couldn't they give these places names?

"Bugs," Sam said flatly. "Big, honkin' bugs. Sir."

Oh yeah. That address he remembered, as in places to never dial up again. "Danny sends us the nicest things," Jack quipped, trying to ignore Teal'c's sudden stillness. The image of the Jaffa almost remade into ten man-killing insects was a hard one to shake. "And he dropped this on Cimmeria?"

"The notes say they autoclaved it under high heat and about twenty atmospheres of pressure. That should have cracked any DNA, RNA, or protein structure left in it," Janet said judiciously. "Still...." She slapped an extra skull-and-crossbones sticker on the box. "No touchie."

"The insects' venom did not control minds," Teal'c pointed out.

"This isn't the same thing, Teal'c." Janet lifted a sheaf of paper. "If these notes are accurate, this thing changes the body and leaves the mind intact. Just... not human anymore."

Eyyugh. There was something sicker than giant insects. "You be careful." Jack turned back to Gairwyn, switching languages like rusty gears. "Okay. So they sat down for a drink. With a bird?"

"A hawk," Gairwyn nodded. "Only I have never seen one green and gold as sun on maple leaves. And Trowa bore it on his shoulder as if it were one of Odin's ravens, trusted and a friend."

Jack raised inquiring brows. "I'm guessing you can't usually do that with hawks?"

"No! Even the gentlest to the hand will tear your eyes, if they feel fear." Gairwyn shook her head. "It is not natural. Though we knew that from the first, when we saw the strange one's eyes." She used a finger to pull one eyelid aslant, giving a distinctly Asian impression. "Have you ever seen such eyes? Black as coal!"

"Actually, yeah." Jack waved her on. Don't think we've ever sent anybody who looked Asian through to Cimmeria, come to think. Man, that must have been a shock. "I'm sure you were polite."

"We tried," Gairwyn sighed. "Especially for the little one's sake. Catri, I think she said her name was? Odd to hear one of our own names when she did not look like us either. She was a lovely lass, though. I can see why Trowa paid her court. Though such a shame, to cut hair the gold of noon!"

"Catri?" Sam said carefully, leafing through some of Daniel's hasty notes. Her finger paused on a line of script; frowning at it, she sounded out the linguist's written pronunciation. "Quatre Rebarba Winner?"

"Yes!" Gairwyn sat up. "Daniel wrote of her? Of course, she must have caught even his eye, though he has far more manners than Beornegar." The Cimmerian shook her head. "That lout thought she'd cut her hair in mourning for a husband, as some of our folk do to the south, and so might be open to courting. She was wearing no amber, after all. It wasn't as if Trowa had made his claim on her clear."

"Daniel... did write about Quatre," Sam said slowly. "Sir, I think I see the problem."

"Problem?" Jack was starting to get a nasty sinking feeling. Oh no. Oh hell. "Ah, are you saying Beornegar approached Quatre?"

"Oh, yes," Gairwyn sighed. "A good roast, a few mugs of mead to loosen the tongue... he laid hand on her shoulder and asked if one so lovely wished to make a toast to Freya who had blessed her." Her brows knit, puzzled. "And then Catri screamed."

~*~*~*~*~
"He stuck his tongue in my ear!" Quatre said, disbelieving. He could still feel the Cimmerian's drunken emotions, the sudden lurch of decision and lust, far clearer than the physical invasion of the lick.

Heero looked at Trowa.

The Beastmaster looked back, ever so slightly ruffled. Quatre felt his lover's quiet anger like a deep river, calm and swift over deadly rocks. "No."

"A nerve pinch was too easy a fate for such a coward," Wufei growled. "It is not justice."

~*~*~*~*~
"And Trowa touched him, just touched him, and Beornegar - fell over." Gairwyn shook her head. "It wasn't your weapons, it wasn't the ettins' - what else could it be but witchcraft? We saw how the flames followed the slant-eyed one, everyone saw...."

"Flames?" Teal'c looked interested.

"Fire danced to his will, I swear," Gairwyn said fervently. "I've never seen such a thing! He curled his fingers, and the flames rose up...." She sighed. "And that is when Hjalmar and Ottar called revenge for their fallen brother."

"And?" Oh hell, Jack winced.

"The battle was brief." Gairwyn dug into her pack, and came out with two halves of a warhammer. "Teal'c, have you ever seen a sword that could do this?"

Teal'c examined sheared steel. "A sword, Gairwyn? Not an energy weapon?"

"A sword," Gairwyn said firmly. "Though oddly shaped. It curved, like this." She sketched a gentle arc in mid-air.

Curved sword, Asian, cuts through wrought iron like butter, Jack thought. Bingo. "A katana. Daniel's got a few on his wall," Jack added at Teal'c's look. "You know, the really nice ones you wanted to walk off with?"

"Most excellent weapons," Teal'c agreed. "Yet you do not say blood was spilled."

"None was," Gairwyn said, surprised. "Trowa and Quatre struck down a few who came at them; they used blows very like your manner of fighting, O'Neill, it surprised me. Then the strange one - Wufei - held fire before them, so none dared approach. And they left."

~*~*~*~*~
"We ran like cowards...." Wufei growled.

"It was a tactical retreat. And it wouldn't have been honorable to fight them, Wufei," Quatre insisted. "They just made a mistake." He turned a bewildered gaze on Daniel. "Why did they make a mistake?"

The Tau'ri was rubbing his head, as if it ached more than the bump let on. "Oh, boy...."

~*~*~*~*~
"Gairwyn." Sam held out a page filled with colors. "Is this Quatre?"

"Yes," the Cimmerian said, unhesitating. Paused, eyes widening. "But she's dressed like a man!"

Jack groaned, hearing the echo of one of Daniel's long-ago lectures. "...So-called 'primitive' cultures tend to code your status by the way you dress," Daniel had said on some pine tree laden planet, while Sam and Teal'c were scouting for water. "One of the reasons Sam runs into as few problems as she does is she's dressed just like the rest of us. Since she's dressed like a man, she has the status of a man."

"But Sam's-" Jack had made an abortive move toward his chest.

"A lot of the time people won't even look past the clothes, Jack. They'll just assume Sam is a 'he' unless we prove otherwise."

"Okay, that's weird."

"That's human, Jack. What's the first thing you think when you see someone in a skirt?"

Dr. Jackson shoots, he scores, Jack thought now, shaking off the memory. "I take it Daniel writes that Quatre is actually a guy."

"Yep," Sam said wryly, handing over the photo.

Some kind of photo, anyway, Jack thought, taking the printed paper. There were pages attached behind it by some variant of a staple; their white material felt a little heavier than what came out of the SGC printers. The scene in color, though....

Quatre was on the far left, a delicate sea-eyed blond in pink shirt, purple vest and tan pants. His hand was reaching out, almost touching the long, swinging chestnut braid of a violet-eyed teen in black, who was in turn grabbing for a fruit-topped cake. Said cake was currently being held out of reach by a scowling blue-eyed Japanese in a shorts and a green tank-top. Only Scowly hadn't lifted it fast enough, if the finger-full of frosting the vaguely European brunet in jeans and navy turtleneck to his right was tasting was any indication. And from the gleam of a short knife a grim-faced Chinese in white all the way at the right was unsheathing, the cake wasn't about to last much longer anyway.

Left to right, we've got Quatre Rebarba Winner, Daniel's handwriting read on the first attached page. Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton, and Wufei Chang - or as he puts it, Chang. Wufei. Dragon clan.

I know what you're thinking, Jack, so stop glaring at the picture. There is NO evidence these people had any contact with Earth past the time when Ra left. "Barton" is from Old Germanic, and it's been around at least two thousand years. "Maxwell" is ancient Celtic - comes from Maccus - and it could be even older. I grant you "Sally" threw me for a loop, but listening I think they got it from Sarai, out of the Akkadian side, and just mutated it through the Japanese.

Right. Dr. Sally Po. I'd put in a picture of her for you, but the Wing nixed that on grounds of security. I have to agree with them on that; one look, and any Goa'uld who somehow got their hands on this message would have way too much information. Picture Janet half a foot taller, blonde, blue-eyed, and part Chinese. Same attitude, though.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Janet grumbled, reading past Jack's shoulder.

"That you are a competent, professional healer, who brooks no interference by those lacking knowledge," Teal'c said matter-of-factly.

Penlights of Doom are a universal constant.

"Or not," Jack mumbled.

Yes, they are teenagers. Far as I can determine, legal age on Sanq is sixteen; these five have been professional soldiers in the Wing and the Preventers for at least two years. Maybe longer, they're still trying to get a handle on how the info on Earth the Goa'uld stole from us translates into Sanq equivalents. And they're good, Jack. They're very, very good. Duo's the only one I've seen fight close-quarters so far... but I haven't seen Jaffa patrols go down so fast since the last time you and Teal'c cut loose.

"Note to self, keep an eye on the cute kid with the braid," Jack muttered. And how many of those patrols did you take down, Daniel? No way would Danny stand by while someone else killed for him.

The Preventers seem to be their equivalent of the military, with espionage included; the Wing is the air and space division.

"Say what?" Sam peeked over Jack's shoulder. "Air and space?"

Duo broke us out by hot-wiring a death glider.

"Can you hot-wire a death glider?" Jack asked their resident expert.

"Tek'mateh Bra'tac once said it could be done." Teal'c looked slightly shaken. "I have never had the opportunity to attempt it."

I don't remember that much of the ride down to Sanq, the Reaver was pulling me under, but Duo has a pretty colorful vocabulary....

Right. The Reaver. Sally says she's sorry if Janet can't get much info out of what she sent. But given what they went through to get the infection out of me, and Duo's report on what Dimme's little creation did to another Preventer agent, Ran Page, they figured it was better to kill the damn thing than keep ANY live samples around.

Stop strangling the paper, Jack. I feel lousy. My left arm hurts like heck - Sally says they had to slice out some bone to get the whole infection. And I really want Janet to look me over. But I'm okay.

"I was not strangling the paper," Jack groused. Damn it, couldn't Daniel stay in one piece anywhere?

Sam's lips twitched. "Right, sir."

Dimme's a Queen; apparently she was Lamashtu's Queen, before Sanq swatted Lamashtu but good. It looks like she created the Reaver to get inside agents against Sanq. And Earth, so keep an eye out for anything that looks human and then turns into something gray-green with claws and tentacles. They're very, very fast, and they can infect you with just a scratch. And the one I saw was completely obedient to Dimme, to the point of voluntarily giving up classified information, even though it had been a Preventer agent. We... had to kill it to get away. I think Duo's pretty shook up about that.

"Ouch," Sam winced. "Well, this might explain Dad's rumors about Gault."

"We'll tell him later," Jack nodded. No offense to the Tok'ra, but Jack was just as glad procedure had Jacob cooling his heels in the VIP quarters while they talked to Gairwyn. He wanted a good look over all of Daniel's present before he leaked any info to their allies.

Jacob had said Lamashtu was MIA. Daniel claimed Sanq had taken her out. If so... hoo boy.

The cultural situation's a little complicated here; mostly Japanese, but mixed with large helpings of Akkadian, Toltec, Old European, Chinese, and Celtic. Apparently Sanq was a sort of... cooperative venture, between Lamashtu and a bunch of other System Lords. I'll fill you in on the details when I get back. Suffice to say, it bit them.

They're taking a risk and letting me send you their address. Heero says it's not in the main Goa'uld database; that the only two System Lords who would have it would be Dimme and Lord Yu.

The Wing, in the person of Heero Yuy, hereby extends an informal invitation for the Tau'ri explorers of the SGC to meet and speak on matters of mutual concern and curiosity.

P.S. Check out the poster. Quatre's got the original on his wall.

"Chel nak," Teal'c breathed.

"Very cool," Jack agreed, staring at the image of a motley crew taking down Goa'uld power and might. Fighters. They've got fighters?

"So they are enemies of the ettins." Gairwyn studied the poster. "I had begun to wonder. But I suppose even witches must fear the Goa'uld."

"Gairwyn, I'm sure there's an explanation for what you saw-" Sam started.

Gairwyn held up a hand, face stern. "Trowa is a man, and you say Quatre is as well. And Trowa courted Quatre, and Quatre did not dissuade him. They are witches." She rose, gathering dignity around her like a cloak. "I must return. Beornegar must be warned, so he may guard his spirit from their vengeance. May Thor grant you find Daniel soon."

~*~*~*~*~
"And you couldn't convince her otherwise." General Hammond rested his hand on the reports before him at the briefing room table, resisting the urge to rub at a gnawing headache.

"Gairwyn seemed willing to believe that everything else had an explanation," Major Carter reported, hands wrapped around each other. "The hawk, the fire, the sword... she's seen us and Thor, she knows high tech can pull off what looks like 'magic'."

"Only Trowa making eyes at another guy, or whatever the heck 'paying court' means, seems to put them all on the Cimmerian blacklist," Colonel O'Neill groused. "Talk about don't ask, don't tell."

"It is a common attitude on heavily culled planets," Teal'c observed. "Where the Goa'uld wish more slaves to be born, they proclaim such unions against the will of the gods. I did not expect it on Cimmeria."

"Yeah, well," Jack frowned, glancing aside in thought, "Daniel said something once, about the linguistic drift... didn't get all of it, but I think he thought the Asgaard grabbed a pretty small group of people to start with. That's one of the reasons he thought the Cimmerians let Kendra stay, even though she didn't look like them; they were hoping she'd settle down and give 'em a few kids who weren't related to half the village." He shrugged. "Which I guess means they'd have been really ticked if she settled down with another woman."

"Ah."

"That's... kind of cold, sir," Sam noted.

"You call 'em as you see 'em when it comes to black holes, Carter. Danny does it for people." Jack spread an empty hand. "He just usually does it in reports."

"We'll mend diplomatic fences with Cimmeria later," Hammond said briskly. "Sanq and this Reaver, people. What do we know?" He glanced across the table. "Dr. Fraiser?"

"The samples are pretty much fried," Janet said briskly. "Just as well. From the proteins left in them, it's highly likely the venom is similar to that of the metamorphizing insects. A mix of infectious RNA and various other nasty toxins to knock out the immune system while it tears you apart. Our inhibitors ought to work on it; I'm advising we add them to the SGC field medkits immediately. A Jaffa might bounce back from having this poison in him, but when it comes to humans, we'd better start medical treatment on the spot." The doctor was far too professional to shudder, but there were suspicious tight lines around her eyes. "If they got this out of Daniel, sir, he got very, very lucky."

"So it would seem," Hammond noted. "And the rest of Dr. Jackson's report?"

"Now, that's kind of interesting for what it doesn't say, sir." Jack's smile had a dark edge. "Carter?"

"I ran the address through the dialing computer, sir," Sam nodded. "It's red."

A world from the Ancients' database, then, and not the Abydonian cartouche. Voluntarily given to a world Sanq knew was under threat of attack by the Goa'uld. "So you'd say they really want to talk to us."

"And now we get to the good part." Jack tapped the picture of the Wing. "Background info tells you they've got paint, glass, and steel. No uniforms. No visible weapons - though if you look close, you can pick out what might be a couple of knives here and there. Nothing, in fact, that even breathes any higher tech than, oh, say, Earth, late 1800's." He turned to the poster. "Now, this definitely says high-tech. But it's art. And there's nothing to tie it to the picture except what Daniel wrote. And you'll note, when it comes to tech, he doesn't say much."

"Paranoid?" Hammond asked, faded red brow climbing.

"Oh yeah," the former Black Ops colonel nodded. Worry for Daniel battled with hard-won good sense in his face. "Sir, I say we go. But carefully."

"It would be wise," Teal'c noted. "Since it would seem, from Gairwyn's tale, that Chang is in fact a Dragon."

"A Dragon?" Sam asked warily.

"It is a myth."

"Oh no, here we go again...." Jack groaned. "Teal'c, your last myth took 9-mm bullets without slowing down."

"Of that I am aware, O'Neill," Teal'c noted. "Though bullets should, indeed, slow this myth down."

"Well, that makes me feel so much better... not. Teal'c. Details," Jack demanded.

"Legend states that Lord Yu once used unusual weapons in a battle against Nirrti," Teal'c recounted, frowning at the Wing's picture. "Human weapons." He inclined a brow. "Weapons that could summon flame, or dismiss it, where they willed."

Jack gaped. Worked his jaw. Blinked. "You're saying the kid's a firestarter?"

Teal'c looked a question at Sam. "Pyrokinesis," Major Carter filled in the blank. "Mental control of, or ability to ignite, fires. We only have anecdotal evidence of it on Earth. Nothing solid."

The Jaffa nodded. "I do not know if Lord Yu still possesses the Dragons. Yet Apophis has not troubled him for many centuries."

Jack mulled that over. Turned to the head of the table. "General?"

"Send a MALP," Hammond ordered.

Now what do I tell Jacob?