~*~*~*~*~
"Chevron six encoding…" Preventer Maeldun's voice came over Trowa's ear-piece as the naquadda ring rotated. "Chevron six locked."
"05?" Heero's voice on the line was short and clipped.
"Ready," Wufei answered from his place of concealment near the Stargate. In the background Trowa could hear the quietest of rustles; other Preventers armed and waiting with Wufei, willing and able to hold the 'Gate against all possible assaults.
"04?"
"I'm set." Quatre's voice barely quavered, but Trowa felt his love's nerves quake down their bond. For a moment Trowa wished he'd done something a little more permanent to that idiot Cimmerian. A headache that would last half the day seemed less than fair recompense for the nightmares he knew the empath would have later.
"03?"
"Yes," Trowa said simply, hidden behind his constructed blind, left hand laced into Hrere's collar. Watch. Scent, he willed the esmeril.
Hrere rumbled a quiet assent, projecting eagerness to seek and strike. If there were Goa'uld, the hot tide of her emotions told the Beastmaster, she would find them. Find and kill.
Let us strike first, Hrere. Weapons reach longer than claws.
Assent touched him. Her silvery tail lashed.
"Chevron seven-"
Blue-silver burst from the circle, a fountain of warped space. The wormhole peaked and snapped back, as he'd seen on countless missions, a shimmering silver promise of war and escape. The stuff of dreams. And nightmares.
Wait. Wait….
Shaped metal trundled through the 'Gate on rubbery tracks, half the height of a man and covered with gadgets of every shape and size. Sensors swung and swiveled, obviously scanning the area.
And the 'Gate's still open, Trowa observed. Which means it must be sending energy back… communications? Some sort of report? The Preventers' scan countermeasures worked against Goa'uld sensors, fooling them into reporting a lifeless planet, but Tau'ri sensors might be another matter entirely.
One of the lensed devices halted, and Trowa stifled a snicker. Somebody was getting all too good a look at the twisted metal symbol that falsely declared Sanq tal mak - a world that had once supported life, yet was now extinct.
Now which will you believe? Your eyes? Or your heart?
Long minutes passed. Trowa felt Quatre's tension skitter down his spine. He made an effort to calm himself, for all their sakes, resting against Hrere's steady, predatory fascination with the watery light of the 'Gate.
Gratitude touched him, tinged with Quatre's shy embarrassment; as if the blond had laid a hand over his. Sorry, Trowa.
Nothing to forgive, Quat. Stay with me. We're together.
And three figures walked through, armed and wary in green and black. "Ally, ally, oxen-free," the pepper-haired one in the lead sang out.
Huh?
"Sir," the blonde just behind him sighed.
"So what should I say, Carter? We come in peace?" The older man scanned the dusty area around the 'Gate, dark eyes appearing to skip across various undulations of dead ground that concealed sensor-jamming devices, Preventer agents, and other, less subtle defenses.
Only appearing, Trowa knew, seeing dark eyes tense even before he felt the prickle of wariness Quatre picked off the man. He knows. This man is a soldier. A covert operator who has fought and vanished in the night, as we do. He knows all is not as it seems.
"At least it wasn't 'Klaato barada niktu'," Carter mumbled. She too scanned the area; with reasonable skill, but without that seared-into-bone awareness of just how easy it was to hide lethal intent. "So where are they?"
The Jaffa bringing up the rear didn't even pretend to miss Wufei's blind. "They are here, Major Carter."
"Now," Heero's low murmur vibrated down the line.
Preventers ghosted out of hiding, half-ringing the still-live 'Gate.
"I hate it when that happens," the Tau'ri leader sighed.
Heero stalked into view, his usual shorts and tank-top discarded for a regular camouflage uniform. "I am Heero Yuy," he said quietly, stepping fearlessly to the forefront. "And you are-" Scanning the Tau'ri group, his eyes locked with Carter's.
Recognition. Knowing. An explosion of hate-
"Goa'uld!"
Guns appeared like mushrooms after rain; Heero leapt back into the Preventers' ranks, teeth bared, weapon lifting to fire-
"No!" Quatre reached out with hand and empathy, spaceheart shivering with panic.
"No," Trowa said more firmly, Hrere padding by his side as they walked out of their blind. Calm, he whispered through their bond, holding the discipline that balked falcons from the kill against Quatre's fear. Calm. Easy, beloved. I trust you. No one has to die. "Wait."
"Carter?" the graying Tau'ri demanded, gun aimed just as surely at Heero as Yuy's was at him.
"Naquadah in his system, sir. And I feel something-" Blue eyes widened as she looked at Trowa and his furred companion. "Someone doesn't want us to shoot?"
Trowa didn't smile. It wasn't the first time someone had traced Quatre's projective empathy to him instead. "You are, or were, a host."
Carter swallowed, determination hardening her face. "Was."
Trowa nodded slightly. "We'll see."
"Mind telling me how, Trowa?" the leader drawled.
So. He'd matched names to faces from Daniel's message. As expected. So Daniel's Jack O'Neill is a night warrior. Interesting. "Hrere knows the scent of hosts." Sniff, Trowa gestured at the esmeril.
"As opposed to used-to-be hosts," O'Neill said dryly, gaze never leaving Heero, even as Hrere snuffled Carter's uniform.
"There is a difference." Trowa lowered his gaze, trusting the other Preventers to watch for danger as he immersed himself in Hrere's senses.
Concrete. Steel. A breath of enclosed, recycled air, still lingering in cuffs and sweat and sulfur-scented weapons. The musk of a lead male human, the not-quite-human scent of male Jaffa, the fang-baring snarl of the larva he carried….
And between, a subtler scent that was neither enemy nor strictly human. Female, tinged with sorrow and alien death. Hurt in a way he'd seen few others hurt; the violation that drove some of Sanq to suicide, despite all their best efforts to convince those so wounded that it was not their fault….
Trowa focused on the feel of fur at his fingertips, letting its softness and Quatre's warmth lead him back to himself. "It's all right." He tugged Hrere gently back from the nervous woman. "She's not a host."
Heero's shoulders relaxed. Deliberately he clicked the safety on his weapon, and holstered it.
"You'll have to forgive us," Quatre put in. "Daniel didn't say you'd be bringing another Survivor with you."
And the dance begins again. Trowa felt a wry smile tug at his mouth. There was a reason Duo wasn't here… besides the need to leave Daniel in safe hands.
"You survived a Goa'uld?" Carter looked taken aback.
"Yes," Heero said shortly.
In a manner of speaking, Trowa thought, inwardly amused despite the situation. If Dr. J were here, the elderly mad scientist would undoubtedly be tearing his hair out. "Perfect" experiments weren't supposed to have unexpected drawbacks.
Thank the kami, Heero's not perfect.
"Okay." O'Neill put away his own gun. "Jack O'Neill. Major Carter. Teal'c. You the guys that left the message about a lost archaeologist? Blond, blue eyes, about yeah high, sneezes a lot…."
~*~*~*~*~
"I'm telling you, this is a bad idea!" Bouncing in his aisle seat, Duo tugged at the neck of his black kimono as if dark silk were strangling him. "Formal, Daniel. With Relena Peacecraft. Do you know what that means? She gets to gaze at you with these starry eyes and talk about peace and understanding, and you feel your brain start to melt…."
Walking back through the shuttle, Sally caught Duo just long enough to smooth dark cloth back into place under his cross. Sky-blue silk patterned with cherry blossoms fell over her hands as she gave him a sidelong look. "She's not that bad, Duo." Sally glanced at the window seat's occupant. "Any dizziness? Nausea?"
Daniel shook his head, trying not to stare too obviously at what his hosts considered formal wear. Kimonos and swords. I should have known. And if that elegant fan stuck through Sally's sash wasn't a shukusen - a lady's fan whose steel ribs could cut a pike in half - he'd retake Japanese Culture 101. Formal on Sanq equals armed. Oh, Jack's going to love this. "They're here?"
"We should be on the ground in a few minutes." Heading back to her seat, the doctor gave Daniel a wry grin. "Duo's just jumpy because the shuttle pilots won't let him near the cockpit." Her grin spread. "For some reason, they seem to think shuttles ought to fly right side up."
Duo stuck out his tongue.
Daniel couldn't help but smile. You're not good with etiquette any more than Jack is, and you know it. But I've seen Heero and Quatre; they wouldn't have you in this if they didn't think you could do it. Of course, it might help if you weren't thinking so hard about all the ways you could mess up…. "So is there a cultural symbolism to your kimonos? Do they mean something in particular," he elaborated, as Duo gave him a wary look. "I notice Sally has cherry blossoms, which on certain parts of Earth would imply long life… and, sometimes, an association with the supernatural." He gestured at black-on-black embroidery. "And you're wearing ravens?"
"Death's wings. Yeah." Duo shrugged. "We're not just going in to meet your guys as colony representatives, we're going in as Guardians. Peacecraft wants us to go traditional. Give me Preventer jackets any day. At least you stand a snowball's chance of blending into a crowd…."
Five colony clusters. Five Guardian traits. Four of which are in Heero's Wing, all five if you count Sally… only there's something they're not telling me about Heero. "Cherry blossoms for medusas, ravens for Shinigami?"
"Hawks for Beastmasters, desert cats for empaths, and dragons for Dragons," Duo nodded. Cast a glance past him at the approaching ground. "Daniel. Don't tell Relena you're Shinigami."
You want me to lie to your negotiator? Alarm bells went off in Daniel's mind. "Why?"
"Relena's pretty into the Purist view. The moderate part of it, anyway," Duo said tightly.
Not good. "And Purists are…?"
"Purists think Guardians are weapons. Like zats, or death gliders. Only worse, 'cause we can choose when to go off." Duo wrapped his arms around himself, eyes unfocussed. "Hell, we are weapons. The Goa'uld made us that way."
Oh. That loathing in Duo's tone…. "And Purists hate the Goa'uld."
"Lamashtu used empaths to drive people insane. Nemain would set Shi no Yami loose in a colony and laugh. Yu had Dragons burn kids alive…. We were made to be nightmares, Daniel. People remember that. And it doesn't matter that we fight the Goa'uld, it doesn't matter that we love Sanq…." Duo let a breath hiss between clenched teeth. "Long story very short. Mostly the Purists think all they have to do is encourage regular people not to breed with Guardians. They keep it up long enough, we die out, and the idiots think they can live happily ever after without 'tainting' themselves using Goa'uld weapons."
Cheyenne, we have a problem. "Only Shinigami-"
"Don't have to have kids to spread. Yeah."
Pain. So much pain, in so young a face. "Duo. What happened?"
Violet eyes dodged his. "Once you guys get the polite stuff out of the way, ask Relena about the Maxwell Shrine Massacre." A bitter smile quirked Duo's mouth. "I kind of wonder what she'll tell you."
Daniel wet his lips. "What can you tell me?"
Shoulders tensed under dark silk. "Maxwell's a Shinigami name," Duo said, almost too quiet to hear. "Has been as long as there's been Shinigami. Used to be a couple hundred of them on the L2 colony I grew up in." A shift of muscle flexed embroidered feathers, as if the ravens would take desperate flight. "I'm the last one left."
I'm the last one. Daniel watched Duo close his eyes and shut away the pain, glad the seatbelt warning over the shuttle intercom gave him an excuse not to speak. Oh gods.
I can't leave him like this.
"I lost my family," Daniel said quietly as the shuttle slowed to hover. "I'm an archaeologist. I uncovered the 'Gate on Abydos. I was trying to figure out how it worked, it's what I do... and Apophis came through." He rested a tentative hand on the silk-covered shoulder. "So they died because of what I am, too."
Slender fingers covered his. Duo leaned into him without a sound, chestnut hair nestled into his shoulder like a tired kitten. Like Skaara, those rare times the Abydonian youth craved the comfort of his brother-in-law's older arms more than his own proud adult status. Like Sam, on those dark off-world nights Major Carter slipped from her grasp, and she was just a hurt soul who wished she'd never met Jolinar.
He followed me home, Jack. Can we keep him?
Daniel shook off the stray thought as they touched down, watching eager curiosity shove dark memories back as Duo snatched up his katana and bounced out the door toward the 'Gate. Right. As if Heero would let you have him. Yuy's no dummy. Anybody who can keep it together with that in his past has got to be the rock his team is based on.
"Daniel!"
Speaking of rocks. Daniel took the steps one at a time, grateful for Sally's steady presence behind him. He wasn't dizzy, exactly, but sometimes the ground wasn't quite where it ought to be. "Jack." And he was braced between a Jaffa and an astrophysicist major, while one seriously annoyed ex-Black Ops colonel gave him a full-body check. "Jack!"
Jack had yanked back the loose sleeve of his loaned black gi, glaring at the bandage. "How bad?"
"It hurts, but I can 'Gate-" Daniel felt his friend stiffen. "Um, Jack? That's Sally."
"Uh huh." Jack's tone was perfectly level as he looked past Daniel's shoulder. "Sally has tentacles, Daniel."
"Ooh, he's quick," Duo smirked, heading for the cargo compartment with Wufei.
"Knows how to sabotage a ha'tak, too," Daniel quipped back, noting the variations in dress that had appeared among the Wing pilots. Wufei had stuck to his loose white trousers, gold and red dragon rampant on his sleeveless gray top. Quatre was in a more formal version of his usual vest, shirt, and pants, a desert cat's silhouette embroidered on his left breast in silver just a shade lighter than his gray vest. And Trowa and Heero were in hakama and gi; Heero's plain, midnight blue, Trowa's forest green with a colorful hawk just below the shoulder. Guardian and colonial origin, all in one neat package. These people love their symbolism as much as their tech. "It's hereditary, Jack. Dr. Po is a medusa."
"As in the Greek myth?" Sam stared in pure fascination. "Or the jellyfish?"
"This is going to take some getting used to." Sally crossed her arms, gave Sam a challenging look back. "Didn't the Goa'uld manipulate any groups on your planet?"
Sam snapped out of her scientific trance. "We don't think so-"
"O'Neill." Teal'c's firm tone cut off her reply. "Another shuttle approaches."
Jack looked. Scrubbed his eyes. Looked again. "Is that thing pink?"
Duo groaned. Quatre drew near Trowa. Wufei scowled. And Heero-
Jack glanced a question Daniel's way. Did cool, calm, and collected just wince? That crook of graying brow asked.
Yep. He winced, Daniel nodded back subtly. "Lady Peacecraft?"
"Yes." And the flinch was gone as if it had never been, subsumed in cool professionalism. "We should be prepared to accompany you shortly." Heero moved toward the landing shuttle with easy grace, hand near his katana.
"We?" Jack asked pointedly.
Daniel smiled wryly. "Lady Relena Peacecraft. She's one of the most respected diplomats on Sanq or the colonies. Heero's Wing, Wing Zero, is coming as her guard and military advisors; Dr. Po's coming to trade diagnoses with Janet. This is the diplomatic party, Jack."
Jack looked at him. Looked back at the pink shuttle. Swept a dangerous gaze over the hapless onlookers. And grabbed the collar of Daniel's gi. "Would you excuse us a minute?"
"Jack!" Daniel hissed as his friend and occasional terror of unsuspecting extra-terrestrials and archaeologists half-dragged him out of casual earshot along the Wing's shuttle hull.
"Daniel!" Jack jerked his head toward Relena's shuttle, where various people in formal uniforms carrying luggage had just run into the uncompromising wall that was one Heero Yuy. Then past that, toward an interesting glassy depression in the bare sandy ground about a quarter-mile from the 'Gate; one of several Daniel had seen on the flight from the safehouse. "We've been yanking info out of the Tok'ra trying to find you, chasing down plague rumors, trying to talk down Cimmerians - Chang freaked them out but good with his little flame trick, and you have no idea what Gairwyn thinks about Trowa and Quatre. And here we find you making nice with the natives. Which is a good thing. What I expected. Linguist. Diplomat. You all over. But just what does that look like to you?"
"Goa'uld orbital bombardment," Daniel said flatly. And I wish I didn't know what that looked like. "Maybe from Lamashtu. Maybe fresher; I'm still trying to put the pieces together, but I think they had a really close call with Macha about the time Wing Zero was formed."
"Might explain how Heero got jumped," Jack muttered.
"Heero-?" Oh. Uh-oh. If he - and Sam - but everyone's still in one piece. Thank goodness for Quatre. "So that's why he didn't want to go to Cimmeria… Jack, what's wrong? I'm okay. Well, sort of okay," honesty compelled Daniel to add. Just leave out the details until you get to Janet.
"It's the sort of that gets to me, Danny." But some of the hardness left dark eyes. "Look. I don't know what you told these people, or what they think is going on. We're not making any deals until we get you home and checked out."
"They know that, Jack."
Jack chewed that over a moment. Flicked an apparently casual glance over the Wing's preparations by the 'Gate. "They do, huh?"
"Dimme got away," Daniel said quietly. "She's going to be back, in force. Her Reavers can take over Preventers. Her death gliders aren't anywhere near as good as Gundams, but they outnumber them." The archaeologist nodded toward the quiescent 'Gate. "And we're the first help they've seen in forty years, Jack."
Jack let go. Took a good look around. "They did this on their own."
"With a lot of help from Stheno, before Susanowo got an Ashrak to her," Daniel nodded. "But they're here, Jack. They're still alive."
"Damn." But Jack looked slightly happier about the situation. "Okay, let's call the General and get him to set a few extra places in the cafeteria-" He tensed. Leaned in close. "Daniel. Look at me."
I didn't want him to see. Not now, not yet…. Swallowing dryly, Daniel looked up. Stayed still, even as Jack lifted away his glasses for a better look. At least there's no mirror for him to throw things at.
"Last time I checked," Jack said finally, "Your eyes were blue."
"I know."
"As in kind of sky-colored. Like Carter's. Not that I spend a lot of time looking, you understand. Or like the General's-"
Daniel snickered.
"Okay, not going there. Anyway," Jack went on doggedly, "While Cassie might stick orchid in the 'blue' section of the crayon box, last time I checked, it was not blue."
"Orchid?" Daniel arched a brow. "You've been walking off with color strips from the paint store again, haven't you?"
"So? Daniel."
"Dr. Po says they ought to be purple within a week," Daniel stated, trying to keep his voice matter-of-fact.
"Like Duo's?" Jack's tone was dangerously even. "Tell me it's a long story and Teal'c is going to carry you through that 'Gate."
Not sure I'd mind. He could walk; the sudden splice in what should have been the normal gap between thought and reaction hadn't thrown that off. Much. But it felt weird. "Duo's a carrier of an organism that makes him immune to the Reaver," Daniel said simply. "It made him sick, but it couldn't take him over. When what used to be Page scratched me…." He touched the bandage, and shuddered. "You could see it spreading, Jack. We didn't have any time-" He saw a white blur step past Heero, and snatched back his glasses. "Jack! VIP, twelve o'clock!"
"Wha-" Jack wriggled suddenly empty fingers, pasted on a professional smile to meet the young blonde in white silk. "Lady Peacecraft, I presume."
"Colonel O'Neill. On behalf of my planet, I hope this is the beginning of a long and fruitful working relationship between our peoples. For myself - let's just say, I'm honored to meet someone who's given the Goa'uld a permanent headache." Relena smiled back, simple gold earrings gleaming bright as her pulled-back braids. "Now that Heero's shaken down my luggage to the bare minimum, shall we go?"
"That's the bare minimum?" Sam said under her breath as the group assembled, eyeing the pile of pink-and-white bags and boxes set out of range of the 'Gate-splash.
"Women," Wufei agreed darkly.
Sam looked down at the Dragon. "Excuse me?"
Sally thumped Chang lightly on the shoulder. "Does Major Carter look like a civilian to you?"
"Not her. The Peacecraft onna."
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Jack muttered. "Yuy, if you don't mind, Carter will dial us home."
"Hn." Heero nodded, and Preventers cleared away from the DHD.
"Take it that's a yes… why is the cat still here?"
"Hrere comes with me," Trowa said simply.
"Anything else?" Jack said dryly, looking over the formally dressed - and armed - Wing. "Grenade launcher? Anti-tank gun? High explosives?"
"I do not believe they are carrying a grenade launcher, O'Neill," Teal'c noted.
"And what's an anti-tank gun?" Quatre asked.
Right. No tanks, no anti-tank guns. Which leaves - oh, you wouldn't. Daniel looked at Duo.
Duo grinned.
Jack sighed. "Never mind."
~*~*~*~*~
That, Wufei thought, finding his feet on a steely ramp as the Stargate's chill left him, is one very annoying alarm.
Setting his pack and one of Relena's down, Shenlong's pilot scanned the large room as the rest of his Wing made their way through the wormhole. Uniformed Tau'ri with guns ringed the walls of a manmade cavern of concrete and painted steel, gray ceiling lost in shadows that almost concealed a large, circular hatch. Likely how they got the 'Gate in here to begin with, the scholar in him noted. No DHD in view… hmm. That looks like a control room of some sort. Shut behind what was likely bulletproof glass, with metal shutters poised to fall at need. Filled with folk on recognizable headsets and what might be Tau'ri computers… and one blue-uniformed, balding man whose gaze held enough steel to make Zechs Merquise think twice before offering challenge.
"Colonel O'Neill!" The loudspeaker might cloud the voice's origin, but that controlled annoyance could only come from the man in charge. "Would you mind explaining?"
O'Neill watched the Wing arrange themselves before the shimmering surface, and grinned. "Incoming diplomat, sir. Right about…."
"Eeiiah!" Relena tumbled through the 'Gate into Heero's ready arms. "Itai…."
Sally stumbled through next, followed by the last of their supplies. She made it a shaky step away from the silver horizon, eyes half-crossed-
Wufei slid his shoulder under her arm before she could misstep. "Wait," he commanded.
"Ugh," Dr. Po agreed, swaying in place as the wormhole evaporated. "That gets me every time. Records swear people get used to it; you guys did…."
"That takes at least six missions." Wufei tried to ignore the sound of Peacecraft's harsh panting behind them. Let Heero handle that. They'd seen soldiers leave the 'Gate in far worse shape. At least the onna wasn't throwing up.
His gaze fell on Major Sam Carter. She'd taken the 'Gate as smoothly as anyone in the Wing; not unexpected, from a Survivor. But reassuring all the same. So. They have courage among the Tau'ri, as well.
At the moment Carter was matching Daniel step for step down the ramp, ready to catch him if he fell. A worried redhead no taller than Duo was waiting with a stretcher, toes all but tapping the ground as the pair approached. "That must be your colleague Janet Fraiser," Wufei stated.
"Really?" Sally took some of her weight off him, breathing deep of recycled air. Air that must at some point mix with a planet's atmosphere to refresh itself; colony air was more balanced, full of the green growth that kept its inhabitants alive. "How can you tell?"
Wufei snorted. "After so many times ending up in your hands, Po? You can sense when someone wants to sedate you and sample all your blood."
Daniel choked back a snicker.
Linguist, Wufei reminded himself as he picked his pack back up, making a note to stick to English while they were among the Tau'ri. We've been speaking mostly English or Goa'uld around him, but Duo did say he picked up words quickly.
But the archaeologist let his comment slide, waving off the stretcher. "It's all right, Janet, I can walk."
"Well," O'Neill said briskly, turning a practiced smile on the assembled group. He swept a hand toward the opening doors. "Gentlemen, ladies… cat… right this way. That's it, leave the luggage, we'll get it. Dr. Fraiser's got an MRI with your names on it."
"Ultrasound," Janet said over Daniel's shoulder, hand still firmly clamped on the arm Sam wasn't holding.
"Doc?" O'Neill's tone was still friendly, but cautious.
"It's hard enough for a human to stay still for a magnetic resonance image, Colonel. I am not risking the chamber on a - whatever that is."
"Esmeril," Trowa said quietly, stroking Hrere's silver ears. Behind brown bangs, he glanced a question Heero's way.
How deeply do we trust them? Wufei wondered himself, pack still in his grip. Enough to walk into armed hands, with nothing save our own selves if the situation sours?
They'd fought their way out of enemy hands with less. But he didn't have to like it.
Relena set her case down, eyes fixed on Heero. "It's a reasonable request. We are guests."
Pity the onna said that, Wufei thought unsympathetically. We were Macha's guests once or twice… ah. Maxwell looks amused. He must have just calculated how to bring the ceiling down.
"Colonel." Heero's tone was even as he set down his pack. "If you want to open something that's locked, ask first."
"And please, don't drop anything," Quatre sighed. "Some of the equipment is delicate."
"Delicate?" Teal'c rumbled as they headed out foot-thick doors into a suspiciously empty gray corridor.
"Well… we brought a tea set." Quatre gave them a bright smile. "For the formalities."
Wufei stifled a most unwarriorlike urge to snicker. The look on O'Neill's face, as he tried to stare down Quatre's blithe innocence….
Sally choked back a chortle. Duo was whistling. Trowa and Heero shared a faint, amused curve of lips.
And Relena's glare could have stripped the paint off a death glider. Baka onna. Does she think we're lying?
"Tea set," O'Neill said at last. "Gotcha." The colonel's voice dropped to a low grumble. "I could've stayed retired, but no…."
"You're the one who hates being bored, sir," Carter pointed out, pressing an arrow-marked button beside paired doors. "Daniel?" she murmured.
"Oh, I'm sure there's a tea set in there somewhere," Daniel murmured back wryly. "I think they can hear you, Sam."
"No kidding," Duo mouthed Quatre's way as the doors opened. "What do they think we are, deaf?"
Arrow points up, sliding doors - an elevator? Wufei wondered, taking a quick look inside before O'Neill split the group; his smile and wave ushering Quatre, Trowa, and Hrere along with Daniel and the women, while the colonel and Teal'c remained with himself, Duo, Heero, and the Peacecraft. Skilled in reading people, Wufei observed, trying not to eye O'Neill too obviously as light moved across a panel of buttons by the elevator, from one marked 28 through decreasing numbers to one labeled 21. Splitting Quatre from Trowa is unwise at best.
And the light was moving back to them again, doors opening after it burned in 28 once more. So we're on 28. Which appears to be the bottom of this complex. And the infirmary is on 21? That must be awkward in emergencies… what did they originally design this place for? It wasn't meant to hold a Stargate.
More importantly, that meant there were at least 21 levels between them and open air. And from the flicker of unease on Duo's face, the braided baka had figured that out as well. Maxwell is not going to be happy.
"Teal'c?" O'Neill motioned the rest of the Sanq party in, stepped into the elevator himself. "Mind giving Sergeant Siler a hand?"
"I shall." The Jaffa nodded at O'Neill as the doors closed, shutting them into a metal box.
Teal'c is trusted here, Wufei concluded, noting how Heero hadn't bothered to hide his observation of that exchange. Interesting. I suppose it's just as well to know who will be searching our supplies.
"So your ultrasound is a way of detecting Goa'uld?" Relena asked pleasantly, adjusting her dress as the elevator lifted.
"Yeah. High-frequency sound, makes a picture of the insides you aim it at. Perfect for picking out hitchhikers on the brain stem. You mind?" O'Neill's smile seemed honest. The man has dealt with bleeding hearts too often, or not enough, Wufei thought sourly.
"I'd mind if you didn't check, Colonel." Relena stood straight, gaze challenging the soldier's nonchalance. "Both our worlds have enough problems without a potential spy getting through."
Wufei caught a sudden stillness in O'Neill's movements. "You've had spies on Sanq."
"The Goa'uld we've found most recently were more leftovers from Macha's invasion than deliberate infiltrators, but yes, we have," Relena nodded. "That's one reason the identities of Wing pilots aren't released to the public at large." She frowned at Maxwell. "But you say Dimme knows you're Pilot 02 now."
"Well, sorry! It's not like I could guess she'd pull mind control out of a hat-"
Heero wrapped a hand around Duo's braid; just enough of a tug to feel. "We've already inserted false records into the less sensitive databases, Relena. Dimme can chase a ghost all she likes."
"And if she turns a high-level agent?" No trace of the bubbly onna now. This was the young diplomat who had Wufei's grudging respect. Even if she did sit down with Purists instead of challenging them to proper duels.
"We're hard to kill, Peacecraft," Wufei said flatly. "Out of all those weaklings who call themselves politicians, you should know that."
"I do. And I know you don't believe it, Chang, but I'm sorry." Relena bit her lip. "But this isn't Operation Meteor, Heero. You're Wing Zero now, you're not expendable-"
"Relena." Heero met her gaze, blue eyes cool and uncompromising.
"Operation Meteor?" O'Neill stuck into the silence.
"Ooh, long story." Duo shook his head as elevator doors opened onto a hall bustling with white-coated folk, wincing when Heero didn't let go. "Hey!"
"Stay close." Heero let braided chestnut slip through his fingers almost to the black-bound tip, closed his grip, and stalked toward the Tau'ri infirmary.
"Yeah, yeah, like you ever give a guy a choice in the matter…."
O'Neill cocked an eyebrow Wufei's way. "They always like this?"
"Enjoy the peace while it lasts," Wufei answered dryly. A familiar nervousness prickled his spine, laced with the steadiness of rock and tree. Chang let out a relieved breath. Quatre is here.
Odd how time changed things. If Master O had told him four years ago he'd be relieved to feel one of Lamashtu's deadly Winner empaths so much as touch his chi, he'd have laughed in the man's face.
And now the little one is part of us all. Wufei walked into the clinic to see Trowa scrubbing a translucent gel off the back of his neck under Quatre's watchful eye. We can still fight alone; we have, many times. But we are stronger together.
Janet held an odd gray contraption in gloved hands as she stood behind a seated Sally, evidently hesitant to approach the medusa's neck. "Can you hold your… hair out of the way?"
"As long as your hands don't smell like Goa'uld." Sally pulled hair and tendrils aside in one blonde-and-blue mass. "Most of the time stinging is a voluntary response. But there are - I don't know the word in your language. Medusa tendrils can sense the scent of a Goa'uld outside a host, and they'll sting no matter what we want."
Janet applied the gel, watching shades of gray that traced a spine on her screen as she ran the ultrasound along the nape of Sally's neck. "And a System Lord designed this?"
"Stheno concealed the medusa project as a weapon against Tok'ra," Heero said flatly, releasing Duo to scan the room. "The medusas she gave to the rest of the Eight were trained as deep-cover agents, believing in their 'gods', while stating they wished to fight against Ra as Tok'ra hosts. Our records state the ruse was successful on at least thirty-one occasions."
"At least until the Tok'ra switched to going in by mouth," Sally added as Janet lifted the ultrasound away. "You can arrange your hair over your face to sting, but it's a lot harder to do that and hide the tendrils. Is that it?"
"That's it," Janet said faintly. "You're clean."
"Hold on. Back up, lady." Jack waved his hands. "You're telling us you were made to be a Trojan Horse?" He shot a glance Daniel's way. "Thought the Tok'ra said they went by mouth 'cause they weren't afraid of mirrors."
Seated on an examining table, bandage in plain view, the archaeologist shrugged. "That's what they said."
A man with Heero's own opinion of the Tok'ra, Wufei thought. This should be interesting.
"And it wasn't Sally specifically," Daniel went on. "It was her bloodline. About a thousand years ago?"
"Closer to fifteen hundred, at least," Sally nodded.
"Medusas are one of our oldest Guardian lines," Relena put in. "Though as far as we can tell, empaths were designed first. Can I see how your ultrasound works?"
Janet glanced at O'Neill. Who shrugged. "No reason why not, I guess…."
"So, Maxwell," Wufei mouthed at Duo as they waited their turn to be declared free of infestation. Lip-reading was very useful. "Rubber spiders or exploding ink?"
"'Fei!" Violet eyes gleamed; just a hint of Shinigami's maniacal glee. "Would I do that to the poor, unsuspecting guys who had to search our luggage?"
In a heartbeat. But Duo never lied. "You found something worse?"
~*~*~*~*~
"Eyaagh!"
Zat in hand, Teal'c whirled toward Siler's shout. The sergeant had just opened the pack belonging to Duo Maxwell, something long and snakelike had burst out-
"Aaah. Ah. Oh, god." Sgt. Siler advanced on the still-quivering shape, prodding it with a steel-toed boot. "Son of a bitch is made out of elastic!"
Around the room, the rest of the MPs searching the Sanq supplies lowered their weapons. "A rubber… Goa'uld?" one airman asked in pure disbelief.
Teal'c raised a brow, bent to scoop up the offending object. "It is," he noted, "Quite realistic." The Jaffa paused. "Save for the pink polka dots."
"Heard of cans of snakes, but canned Goa'uld?" Siler shuddered, glaring at rubbery fangs. "Wait 'til I get my hands on this kid…."
"We should proceed," Teal'c stated. "They are aware we are examining their supplies, but it would be more courteous if we could return them once Dr. Fraiser has completed her examinations."
"Polite. Right." Siler drew a deep breath. Shook out his arms. "Shyeah!"
"Daniel Jackson would say a sense of humor is evidence of humanity," Teal'c said, deadpan.
"Huh. And here I thought it was the book quotient in your pack. Would you look at all this?" Siler gestured at the items spread over several tables; one swath of counter-space per pack, so all could be returned to its proper place. "They've got almost as much paper as tight-situation stuff. And for a diplomatic party, they've got way more of that than outfits."
"They are cautious," Teal'c noted. "It is a promising sign."
Siler paused in mid-search. "Run that by me again?"
Teal'c nodded once. "I have noted that those who wished alliance with the SGC and were not cautious, wished more of us than we were willing to give."
"Euronda?" Siler asked warily.
Teal'c noted the sudden quiet of the MPs. While the bulk of the SGC might not be aware of all that had happened on that planet torn with civil war, they knew well enough that it had created a rift in SG-1; a rift Teal'c was even now not certain had fully healed. "Or the Tok'ra Anise," he offered.
Ah. The room was breathing again.
"Okay," Siler said in an undertone, shuffling pages from Duo's pack. "Outside of heart attacks waiting to happen, what have we got here?"
"Music," Teal'c noted, hefting ring-bound pages he'd found in Quatre's luggage.
"Music?" Siler repeated blankly. Rustled similar bound sheets that had come out of Trowa's pack. "This is music?"
Teal'c studied the inked cuneiform neatly arranged across the white page. He would not consider himself fluent, but he had gained more familiarity with the wedge-shaped writing since Daniel Jackson's unfortunate encounter with Nem. "For a flute. Quatre's would seem to be for a stringed instrument." He hummed a phrase of it, recalling the seven-note scale Daniel Jackson had showed him for Akkadian music on Earth.
"Catchy." Siler shoved pink dots out of sight and waved a stack of diagrams. "Maxwell likes gadgets. Yuy's got a couple of booklets that have to be Sanq's version of a wilderness survival manual. Wufei - I'm not an expert, but I'm thinking this looks like some kind of translation dictionary?"
Teal'c took the compact tome from Wufei's pack, flipping from back to front; even when printed in Goa'uld, Sanq works appeared to read the opposite direction from Tau'ri. "It discusses grammar, both of Goa'uld and Jaffa." Curious. He would not have placed Chang as the scholar of the group.
Siler nodded. "And everybody's gear, including Relena's, has at least one gun in it. Put that together and what do you get?"
It seemed obvious. "An SGC first contact team."
"And…?" Siler asked.
Teal'c frowned. "I am uncertain what else there may be, Sergeant Siler."
"I kind of figured. Let's get this stuff back together." Sorting Duo's pack back into order, Siler nodded at the scattered gear. "Thing is, Teal'c, you don't get to meet much of our military outside the SGC."
"That is accurate," Teal'c allowed.
"So you don't know how special the kind of people we have here really are."
"I am aware that Daniel Jackson is not typical of your military, nor even of civilians," Teal'c objected.
"Daniel's not typical of anywhere," Siler agreed with a chuckle. "But Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, all the rest of the SG teams - they think on their feet, they know who to shoot and when, and they know when not to follow orders. They're not regular people, Teal'c. Not by a long shot."
"You imply that such persons would be rare," Teal'c concluded. "Even on such a world as Sanq."
"Very rare, and very dangerous," Siler agreed. "Believe me, Teal'c. They may be Ms. Peacecraft's escort, but these kids are not bodyguards."
~*~*~*~*~
"All right, Dr. Po." General Hammond glanced at Daniel, then skewered Sally with a measured look. "In terms this old soldier can understand, please explain what's happened to Dr. Jackson."
Old soldier my foot. Mature, maybe, but I'd bet you could give Treize a run for his money. Sally composed herself in the infirmary chair, acutely aware of Daniel's subtle trembling as he sat on Janet's examining table and Jack's dark look as he held the younger man's shoulder. At least Major Carter was escorting Relena and the rest of the Wing to the SGC's VIP quarters. She didn't think she could take more than two angry glares without spontaneously combusting. "Duo's a Shinigami. Someone who carries the Shi no Yami organism in their system and-" she hesitated, looking to Daniel as she voiced the Goa'uld word. "Life codes?"
"DNA," the linguist supplied, trying not to shake. "Apparently once you get infected, it writes itself into your genes. Gets your immune system to think it's just another kind of cell roaming around."
"Are you okay, son?" Hammond asked gently.
Daniel swallowed. "No, sir."
"And Maxwell did this on purpose." O'Neill's tone was level and dangerous as Heero Yuy in a bad mood.
"It's an acceptable emergency treatment on Sanq, Colonel," Sally defended the absent Shinigami. "Wing Zero has their permission to infect on record. Most Preventers do. We try other things first, if we can, but when it comes down to it… you have no idea what kind of diseases Lamashtu left behind." She folded her arms. "Duo had three options. Leave a Reaver-infected Tau'ri in Dimme's hands, when he knew you'd be spilling classified information just as readily as Page was. Kill you. Or infect you, and hope you'd be one of the two out of three who make it."
"You're saying this organism is still lethal." Janet looked up from her microscope slide of Daniel's blood, visibly disturbed.
"Not as lethal as it used to be. But about a third of those infected die, even with medical assistance," Sally said frankly. "We still haven't nailed down why."
"And these… creatures… are living in Dr. Jackson's bloodstream?" Hammond asked.
"And just about anywhere in the pulmonary or nervous system they can creep through to. Shi no Yami's a born opportunist," Sally nodded, dragging her eyes away from medical instruments she'd never seen the like of on Sanq. I could study this place for weeks. Wonder if I'll get the chance? "By this time it's crossed the blood-brain barrier. That's why your reaction time is off," she told her former patient. "I'd wait at least three more days before you head back to the practice range. By then it should be finished infiltrating the nerves, and all of your reflexes will have caught up with each other."
Stiff under Jack's hand, Daniel bit his lip.
"Infiltrating." Giving the linguist's shoulder a gentle squeeze, Jack shot her a very dark look. "How do we kill it?"
Here we go again. Sally held back a sigh. "Nemain didn't design it to be killable, Colonel. Not without killing the host along with it. Believe me, after she found out about Shinigami, she tried everything."
"Uh huh." That dark expression never wavered. "So what have you tried?"
Might as well give it to them straight. "Radiation. Toxins. Any and every immune booster we have - some they're allergic to, but since Shi no Yami makes itself part of the immune system, all you get is more symbiote in the blood. Complete blood replacement; that doesn't work, a Shinigami's bone marrow produces more Shi no Yami along with new blood cells. Though it would make him sick, since the symbiote would be busy killing off any white blood cells it finds with a foreign life code… DNA, as you put it."
Janet frowned. "We can transplant bone marrow."
"You can?" Sally leaned forward, alert to new medical knowledge. "Transplanting organs that aren't cloned? That's…." She saw the sudden hope light O'Neill's gaze, the way Daniel curled in on himself in bleak despair. Damn. "Not going to work on a Shinigami," Sally finished reluctantly. "The symbiote will kill anything that doesn't have his life code markers. Period."
"So you're saying if we tried that, we'd kill him," Jack said somberly.
"Probably not, Colonel," Janet said absently, looking at one of her computer readouts. "I'd need more time to be sure, but with the amount of stem cells this organism's stimulating in Daniel's system, I'd say there's a very good chance the marrow would grow back."
"I've treated Duo for more injuries than I like to recall," Sally agreed. "And some of the other Shinigami in the Preventers. As long as they survive, injured tissue will regenerate." She smiled at Daniel. "Remember that about the best emergency treatment you can give a Shinigami is making sure they've got enough sugar in their system."
"Coffee?" Daniel asked.
"It's one way to keep your blood sugar up," Sally acknowledged. "And Shi no Yami seems to need caffeine and theobromine metabolites. It'll build them in your system from scratch if it has to, but that costs energy. And it will make you very, very cranky, Dr. Jackson."
"We can do cranky," Jack shrugged. "Bent paperclips, snarling at file clerks…."
"Lifting shaped charges to blow open locked coffee cabinets," Sally said bluntly.
Silence.
"Of course, Duo was blowing up the rest of the base at the time," Sally shrugged.
More silence.
Sally sighed. Not Purists, maybe, but this pure ignorance is almost scarier. "You are not dangerous," she said flatly. "Not any more than any other Guardian. You need to take care of yourself, and you need to be a little more careful than the average person. I take ascorbic acid on a regular basis, I try not to get too close to people when I'm tired, and I don't let people I don't trust brush my hair. Chang spends time every day meditating. Quatre makes sure he's near friendly people. And so on. You learn to live with it. As long as you eat and get fresh air regularly, you'll be fine." She raised a thoughtful finger. "Speaking of… General, as Wing Zero's doctor I need to make a medical request. Please let me know within the next twenty-four hours whether or not you'll let any of us onto the surface. Somewhere we can feel a breeze. Maxwell can take closed spaces if he has to but this much rock is going to be pushing it. If I'm going to have to sedate him so he can meditate I'd like to prepare my doses in advance."
"Sedate him?" Hammond asked sharply.
"It's that or Heero threatens to shoot his kneecaps," Sally shrugged. "Don't know if you've noticed, but Duo hates sitting still."
"Terrific," Jack grumbled. He eyed her narrowly. "Breeze, huh? You say this stuff used to be airborne?"
"Used to be," Sally stated firmly. "It's not anymore." She spread empty hands. "But Shi no Yami's instincts still say 'airborne', and they do affect its hosts. Shinigami who can't feel the wind start to get... twitchy. Irrational. Paranoia takes a week or so to kick in, but there's no sense pushing it."
"Paranoia?" Daniel said faintly.
"Thought this Shi no Yami got started on a space colony," Jack pointed out.
"It did." Sally nodded. "The colonies are big enough to have their own weather, Colonel. Wind included."
Daniel wove his fingers together and looked up, eyes alert. "Duo didn't mention any of this."
"Duo's been Shinigami since he was at least eight, Daniel," Sally replied. "For all we know, he may have been born Shinigami. He doesn't think about finding the wind any more than I think about picking up oranges."
"You're his doctor," Janet pointed out. "How can you not know?"
Sally sighed. "You're going to hear about this sooner or later… About AC 180, the Purist movement got started. Lamashtu, Susanowo, Babd and Nemain had been dead for years, Dimme and Macha were MIA, and we knew Lord Yu wasn't anywhere near Sanq space. Some people started to think we didn't need Guardians anymore, much less Gundams. Things got… hectic. We lost a lot of records." She stared into the distance, memories of fire and destruction scratching at the walls of her mind. "And in AC 190 Macha blazed in, and we lost a lot more than records."
"AC?" Jack asked in an undertone.
"Sanq records their dates from when Stheno started the underground movement," Daniel filled him in. "She didn't move on Lamashtu until AC 160."
"A century and a half?" Hammond frowned.
"Schools. Military training. Medical facilities. Industrial infrastructure to build the Gundams. A working culture to take over when the other System Lords got what was coming to them. And all of it had to be hidden." Daniel shrugged. "She made it work, General."
"Anyway," Sally said briskly, shoving images of the past back into the darkness where they belonged, "The first official record I've got of Duo is AC 188, and it's… sketchy." Incarceration records aren't big on details. "Name, height, weight-" Underweight, even for an eight-year-old. Damn them. "Blood type, war orphan, no known relations, Shinigami."
"The Maxwell Shrine massacre?" Daniel asked.
How did you-? Sally closed her jaw, determined not to gape. Duo must have told him. He must be really worried about Relena; Duo never talks about that. "The first time I saw Maxwell medically was AC 195." Sort of medically, he was busy blowing a hole in my hospital… never mind. "He joined the Preventers in late 196. I ended up as Wing Zero's doctor a few days later." Because Commanders Treize and Une insisted they get a regular Preventers' physical - as Treize put it, "If I have to get poked, so does everyone else" - and some damn bureaucratic idiot decided to come after them with needles without warning them first. I've never seen a whole hospital ward too terrified to move before.
"Which is when you guys kicked Macha off the planet," Jack put in.
"Pretty hectic times," Sally admitted. And your timing's off, but that's the Peacecraft's business. If she decides to tell you.
…"The Peacecraft." Damn. I have been spending too much time around Chang. Get a hold of yourself, Po, she's not that bad. A little naïve, maybe. But she does good work for a politician. You have to work with the onna….
Damn it.
This is all your fault, Chang. I never would have called anyone onna before I met you.
"I'm beginning to get the impression that this will be a complicated story, Dr. Po," General Hammond said gravely. "Would you inform Lady Peacecraft that I intend to open our conversation in about two hours? I need to speak with SG-1 in confidence."
~*~*~*~*~
"She's gone."
Jack felt Daniel sag against him, still trembling. "Jack…."
"Hey. I gotcha." Jack patted the archaeologist's back, trading a meaningful look with Janet. "You're home, Danny. You're okay."
"Okay?" Daniel choked in disbelief.
"Daniel." Jack tapped the younger man's jaw, turning odd eyes toward him. Orchid and heading purple-wise. That's going to take some getting used to. "You trust these guys?"
"I- y-yes," Daniel admitted. "They feel - real. When they knew who I was… gods, Jack they were trying to hide it. But there was so much hope in their faces. They wanted to find Earth. They want this to work."
"And you believe that, Dr. Jackson," Hammond said gravely. "Even after that fiasco with the Cimmerians."
"Actually, General, especially after that," Daniel said wryly. "They've never dealt with other cultures before. Not even as much as we had, before we first opened the 'Gate; there's shuttle travel between the colonies so no one ethnic group is totally isolated from the others. They walked into a situation they had no experience with, made a mistake, and managed to get out of it without anyone getting hurt. I'd call that a pretty good start. Especially when you think about what could have happened. I thought Quatre was going to faint when I told him how close he came to being taken for a seidr-kona… and now you say Gairwyn's sure he is one. Ouch. Glad I told them not to go back there."
Hammond scowled. "Dr. Jackson, are you saying you instructed these people not to apologize to the Cimmerians?"
Daniel managed a wry smile. "I didn't want to get anyone killed."
"Danny?" Jack asked, brow raised. "Seder-what?"
Daniel raised a finger, paused. "Okay… let me start from the top. Jack? Did you ever wonder why Kendra never got married?"
"She didn't want to?" Jack ventured. Granted most of the Cimmerians were married, even Gairwyn before Heru'ur slashed his way through. But Kendra was their healer. He'd thought she was just too busy for a family.
Daniel chuckled. "That, too. But even after a dozen centuries on a whole other planet, Jack, the Cimmerians are still pretty much Iron Age Vikings. I looked that culture up after the first time we visited because I was wondering about Kendra. And I was right. People usually get married, whether they want to or not; they've got a few nasty terms for people who stay single… anyway. The reason nobody wanted to risk making a move on Kendra is because she was a seidr-kona."
"What the Cimmerians call a witch," Janet said dryly.
"More or less…" Daniel waggled a hand. "The thing is, there are lots of different types of magic in Norse myths. The main two we're worried about are runic and seidr."
"Runic, as in runes, as in Hall of Thor's Might stuff?" Jack put in. No way had their Sanq visitors messed with that. The only writing Gairwyn had mentioned was Daniel's.
"Runic magic comes from the Aesir gods," Daniel nodded. "As in, the Asgaard. Seidr, though - seidr is a lot murkier. You can use it for good, but it's often thought of as being right on the edge of gray magic, if not straight black. Which makes sense, because in the myths we still have here, seidr comes from the Vanir. The second set of Norse gods." He shot Jack a speaking look. "Who are also sometimes called ettins."
Goa'uld. Okay. Headache time. "So just how does Quatre dressing up in a long coat and letting Trowa make eyes at him rank up there with Kendra throwing around force blasts with a ribbon device?" Jack asked carefully.
"Because dressing like a woman, or acting like one with another man, is exactly what a man who knows seidr does," Daniel stated, gaze level. "And Quatre can't even tell them they're wrong, because in a way, they're not. One of the main things seidr is used for is to affect people's minds."
"And he's an empath." Damn. "You still haven't gotten to the getting killed part."
"Well, if Beornegar managed to kill Quatre, he'd wipe out the stain on his honor," Daniel said matter-of-factly. "And Gairwyn's people would say he acted legally; he's got the right to avenge a mortal insult by combat. You know we've still got records of Icelandic law codes? Some pretty hair-raising reading."
"Mortal insult?" Janet fumed. "Even Gairwyn said he kissed Quatre!"
"And Quatre's a seidr-worker," Daniel shrugged. "Typically suspect. Which means the Cimmerians will think he made Beornegar do it, so he could dishonor Beornegar by implying he's a homosexual. I don't think you get the level of insult here, Janet. You'd have a better chance getting out in one piece if you walked into a biker bar and told the head Hell's Angel you'd just painted his ride rainbow colors, so he'd blend right in when rode in tomorrow's Gay Pride parade."
Hammond choked.
Erk. Jack took a deep breath. "Them's fightin' words, huh?"
Daniel looked down. "And it's my fault," he said softly. "The Wing didn't know enough to ask if there would be a problem, and I," he shoved his fingers into short hair, "I just didn't think. I was tired, and worried about you guys, and…."
"Nobody's dead," Jack pointed out. "We'll find a way to fix this."
"Yeah." Daniel licked his lips. Glanced toward Janet's microscope, where odd organisms were slowly dying outside of their host body. "But-"
Jack squeezed his shoulder gently. "We'll deal with it."
"Jack-"
"It sounds like the Wing did the best they could with what they had," Jack said plainly. "And Maxwell seems to do okay. You're alive, Daniel. We'll hash out the details later."
"Okay," Daniel said quietly. Took a deep breath, and straightened. "Let me tell you what I know about Sanq so far…."
~*~*~*~*~
Some references for Daniel's facts…. Take out the spaces in web addresses, and check 'em out.
Stargate technical info: Search for Arduinna's Guides. Great stuff! Verbal sketch of the physical layout of the SGC, timelines (and various places the show contradicts itself), races, tech, the works.
Information on small "primitive" groups, and why they are likely not to have high birth rates, large-scale plagues, or short life-spans.
ww w. eco-action. org / dt / civics. html
Time Detectives by Brian Fagan
Floods, Famines, and Empires by Brian Fagan
Ancient Inventions by Peter James and Nick Thorpe
Changing the Face of the Earth by I.G. Simmons
General info on Viking Culture.
ww w. vikinganswerlady. com / index. html
The differences between Seidr and Runic Magic - otherwise known as why admitting to "deviant" sexuality in Norse culture is a very bad idea.
ww w. vikinganswerlady. com / seidhr. htm
ww w. vikinganswerlady. com / gayvik. htm
ww w.sunnyway. com / runes /seithr. html
ww w. irminsul. org / arc / 018p. html
ww w. geocities. com / SoHo / Lofts / 2171 / seidhr_account. html
ww w. hrafnar . org / seidh. html
A good source of Norse myth, and further info on Loki, Odin, Freya, seidr versus runic magic, and the whole Aesir versus Vanir mess. In Stargate canon, note the Aesir are clearly identified as the Asgaard, and we can by implication classify the Vanir as Goa'uld. (In myth, Loki, who insulted people with the truth, called Freya, a noted Vanir goddess, a "troll" or "ettin". I.e., Goa'uld.)
Myth and Religion of the North: The Religion of Ancient Scandinavia by E.O. G. Turville-Petre
With any luck, the above will clear up some questions. *G*