Hello, again. Here's the next part. I'm guessing that after this there'll just be one more chapter, but don't worry - I've been intending to do a sequel to this fic for a while now. In the meantime, enjoy this next section.
Note to BigRedCanuck: thanks for
the compliment on the fic, but to be honest, I don't have a deep
understanding of Norse mythology - I just did some brief self-imposed
research by looking through an online mythology encyclopedia. Well, at
least it seems like it was enough for the story!
Chapter 23: Last of the Innarim
Colonel O'Neill winced and grumbled as an infirmary nurse cleaned the four angry looking welts scratched into his chest: "Thor couldn'ta been two seconds quicker could he?"
"Stop complaining, Colonel," Janet chided, handing the nurse some bandages. "This is nothing compared to some of the others."
"What happened with SG-5 and 9, anyway?"
"Apparently, they were tracked. A group of Innarim attacked them when they were on the surface. Two of SG-9 and one of SG-5 have some serious burns from those energy blades – at the minute there's no way of telling if there's internal burn damage. Daniel and several scientists took a Hakonan staff blast each and couldn't move, but a single shot hasn't caused any permanent damage. They just took a few minutes to remember how to use their limbs."
"Did they stick to tranquiliser darts?" Jack lifted his arms so bandages could be wrapped around his torso.
"Ran out of darts," Janet grimaced. "They began using their P-90s just before Thor picked them up."
"Ugh, the head honchos won't be happy. So much for 'no use of deadly force'."
Amid the bustling activity of the infirmary, Jack could see his Innarim friend also being bandaged as the wolf sat on the infirmary bed. However, Einar had much more than a few scratches – much of his body was wrapped up, with patches of unhappy, ruffled fur sticking through the uncovered areas that escaped unscathed. Jack thought he looked like a wacky cross between a werewolf and a mummy from some cheap horror b-movie, but the aura of misery Einar held stemmed any laughter.
"How's Tuten-ka-wolf over there doing?" Jack asked seriously.
"Physically, he'll heal fine. Some of the deeper scratches will leave scars, though I think whatever happened had some kind of psychological effect. He hasn't said a word the entire time we were fixing him up."
Jack just nodded, and grabbed his black t-shirt as the nurse finished bandaging him. Sam and Daniel turned the corner, giving Janet a quick greeting as the doctor moved on to other wounded personnel. Wincing, Jack pulled on his garment as his team-mates joined him.
"No Teal'c?" he observed.
"He's kelno'reeming," Daniel said. "Not surprised after that skirmish. What-?"
Daniel stopped abruptly. Jack realised both the scientist and the archaeologist had let their lines of sight cross the half-mummified Innarim further down the infirmary. He frowned at the pair of them.
"Don't laugh."
"He… really took a beating," Daniel stated.
"You OK, sir?" Sam questioned her CO.
"Just a few scratches, no problem."
"Can I ask something?" Sam continued on. "Just before we were beamed up, that other Innarim called Einar…"
"Forraeder…" Jack nodded.
"Forraeder?" Daniel echoed nervously.
"You know what that means?"
"It's Hakonan. It means…"
"Traitor," Jack cut in. "It means traitor."
Several days later, Jack was by the SF-guarded door to the temporary quarters assigned to Einar, knocking firmly on the metal. There was no acknowledgement from within, but with a shrug he opened the door anyway. Einar was sitting cross-legged on the bed. Like Jack himself, the Innarim had his bandages removed. Yet, lines were now permanently etched onto the wolf's face and arms - scars of battle visible even under fur. His own lesions would leave stubborn marks too, but nothing as obvious as Einar's marring.
Einar merely looked over and blinked at him, then closed his eyes. After so much time with the optimistic, curious, chatty alien, the sudden sullen silence chilled even him. Jack shifted his weight from one foot to the other, cursing his lack of prowess at messy emotional and psychological stuff. He felt compelled to do something… anything… about Einar, though. Cautiously, he pulled up a chair.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to convince you to say something," he said disarmingly. "You're not on good terms with the rest of the Universe at the minute. Hell, I know what that feels like…"
Einar's eyes opened a chink, regarding him patiently.
"Look, I won't dance around the subject. I want to apologise. I'm sorry about all of this."
"Why?"
The Innarim's voice was low, but without malice.
"You have to admit that being trapped together made us affect each other," Jack insisted. "My mind must've swayed your decision back on the planet, making you more sympathetic to us than your own race."
"Perhaps it was my own choice?"
"But it was hard not to see things from my point of view, remember?" Jack reminded him, recalling Einar's easy acceptance of his own personal opinion of Colonel Kennedy, months before.
"Does it matter why I chose as I did?" Einar intoned. "I can't go back to them now."
"I know, I know…" Jack sighed. "The Highest Law: no attacking friends or aiding foes… but what about keeping your word? That has to rank pretty high up, right?"
"The Highest Law takes precedence."
"Ugh," Jack ran a hand over his face. "And I used to think you were messing up my life. You must really hate me."
"Hate?" Einar gave a dry chuckle. "I'm bitter and angry, yes, but I don't hate you. You're just as much a victim as I am – you never meant for all this to happen. Besides, you trusted me."
"Out of desperation," Jack admitted, cringing.
"Still…" Einar trailed off, striking up a new topic. "You must be glad to be restored to normal, after all your complaining."
"Yeah, but it still feels odd…"
Jack examined his hands, turning them over a few times pensively. He remembered the weird yet novel experience of discovering he had claws for the first time while trapped in an Innarim body. Einar had shared in the dark amusement of Jack's ponderings, as he imagined tearing at various still-living Goa'uld adversaries with them. There were other things he hadn't missed, such as fur while in the sun. He had to keep reminding himself that canines don't sweat and thus he had to pant to avoid frying both of their minds through overheating.
"I'd just got the hang of being a wolf," he said ruefully, "and having a talkative 'roommate'. Now I have to get used to this again – it's quiet."
"Yes," Einar sighed. "Quiet and empty. After so long alone, I enjoyed the company. You know, I grew quite fond of you in there."
"Hmm…most people don't like spending a week with me," he quipped. "I talked to Hammond. Apparently, despite the fact that SG-9 opened fire and we're helping you, the Pentagon wants a team to go back to Stoneheim. For some reason they think we still have a chance at trading for technology – they just won't let go of it. Hammond's letting you go there as well."
"Why take me?"
"These are your people, Einar. I'm not interested in alliances or trading or technology right now. I don't think it'll get anywhere. I think you should talk to them again, explain what's been happening, to see if they'll let you back on Stoneheim." Jack sat forwards seriously. "I think that is worth a second shot."
The Innarim had learned quickly, and the ones around the gate were hidden behind cover when SG-1 plus Einar stepped through. Much to Jack's vexation, Einar firmly instructed everyone to put down their weapons. There were now five of the warriors guarding the gate, and they recognised the action as one of submissiveness. As they approached them, Jack had to fight the urge to pick up his P-90 again.
Haldor was among the guards present.
"It makes no sense for you to return here," Haldor snapped.
"We're just here to talk," Daniel assured.
"Talk of what? So far the appearance of your people has caused nothing but death and trouble."
"Look, this is all one big mistake you know," Jack cut in with his usual lack of tact. "We didn't mean to trespass, injure, kill… the point is this whole mini-war we've started doesn't have to go any further."
"Why should I listen to humans who make companions of a Forraeder and a Jaffa?"
"Bottom line is," Jack began, "we both want to kick the Goa'uld's asses. Don't you think we'd do a much better job if we're both on the same side?"
"The Tauri are allied to many different races and worlds," Teal'c stated. "Together they have defeated many false gods within a few years alone."
"We're also explorers – we'd like to learn a lot about your culture and history," Daniel added.
"And our leaders are very interested in trading with you – food, raw materials, technology, information…" Sam listed.
"The Innarim need no-one's help!" Haldor grunted, folding his arms. "I remain unconvinced."
"As I said before to Ulrik and Rasmus, humans aren't our true enemies," Einar said. "These ones helped me, saved my consciousness from its prison…"
He gripped Jack's shoulder momentarily: "This one even played host to my mind for some time. I owe them a lot, Haldor."
"You give humans too much credit," the Innarim's voice dripped with disdain. "Weren't you told before you disappeared? It was a Hakonan – a human – who betrayed Hakon to the Goa'uld!"
Einar visibly flinched, but said nothing. In a kind of reaction from his previous link to Einar's mind, Jack was wrenched with sudden despair and sympathy. Haldor continued on, his tone growing more angered.
"Worse still, as we fled to primitive worlds to escape our destroyer, the Goa'uld Anil, the human natives attacked us out of fear. Just as many Innarim fell to humans as to the agents of Anil! Less than 200 of us remained after Anil grew tired of hunting us. It was then we rallied together at Stoneheim, and denounced any allegiance to humanity."
"But the Innarim are half-human," Sam pointed out, but all she earned was a glare from the seething creature.
"You see, Einar," Haldor announced. "Humans may have created us, but it was a human who ultimately destroyed us."
"But not these humans," Einar pressed, growing more desolate. "Does every single one of them across the entire galaxy have to continue suffering the plague of the Goa'uld just because of a single Hakonan? You've forgotten what you truly are, Haldor."
"Silence, Forraeder! The Innarim depend on no-one, trust no others, and fight for no-one else's cause."
Jack fixed the creature with a cold stare, fearless, and his voice was flat as he spoke to Einar without breaking eye contact with Haldor: "You were right, Einar."
Everyone looked at him expectantly.
"You've always been right."
Einar nodded, seemingly in understanding, as Jack concluded:
"You really are the last of the Innarim."
Taking charge, and in spite of anything the Innarim guards might have done in reaction, Jack folded his arms and snapped out his words.
"This ends here," he grunted. "We're leaving, and we're not coming back. Let all of us go home unharmed, and you'll never hear from us again… but if we don't make it back, the SGC will send more troops, armed with much more than we brought with us. Carter, back to the gate and get dialling!"
As the five visitors backtracked to the gate, the Innarim guards followed cautiously but didn't make a move to attack, heeding Jack's words. As the gate activated, Jack shouted back at the warriors hovering a safe distance away: "Don't bother following us back to Earth either. You'll just be crushed!"
They made no acknowledgement, and he muttered to himself, not caring whether they could actually hear with their keen senses: "Not that it'd bother me."
Einar hesitated at the steps of the Stargate, head lowering in grief and stinging with rejection, but composed himself and strode up to the gate, passing through the event horizon without looking back. Jack felt a small spark of admiration for that, as he stepped through himself.
