Hello again. Got another chapter up... obviously. I think thechapters are getting longer - this one was about 10 pages in Word, rather than the usual 5-7 pages! Anyway, hope you enjoy this latest bit, and I hope that it poses some new questions. I'll get the next bit done as soon as I can, real life allowing. I have some family stuff planned, and I have some things to look into before the next academic year. Therefore it may take a bit longer than this one did.

Hopefully this will keep you all interested for now. Thanks and appreciation to all readers and reviewers, as always!

Chapter 14: Vale of Suffering

Hammond was in the control room seeing off one of the SG teams, in the hope of finding a suitable new world for the Farlorans, when an SF approached him. He whispered something in the General's ear, and led the way to the corridor outside. Several more SFs stood around an anxious looking Einar – the security watching him had been increased for everyone's peace of mind – and gripped their weapons firmly. Hammond was sure they'd been told that both energy and projectile weapons were useless, but as a military man himself he knew they'd be even more on edge if they'd been issued with combat knives alone to cope with the Innarim warrior. After all, the centuries-old warrior had suffered several knife wounds at the hands of the Jaffa on Farlor and managed to recover quickly after a hasty visit to Janet to patch up the gashes.

"You asked to see me, Einar," the General stated.

"Yes, General," Einar began. "Time is ticking away. Deimos will have already started building up his forces on Farlor. None of us can afford to be whittling precious minutes away with more negotiations."

"What are you getting at?"

"You can talk directly to your nation's leader. If I were to agree right now to go and retrieve what notes I have made on these new technologies, would he agree to my terms? To let me stay here, and to help out with missions?"

Hammond considered this a moment.

"I can't speak completely on his behalf," Hammond stated, "but there isn't anything stopping me from asking him. If you wait in your quarters, I'll let you know as soon as I have the President's answer."

Within a few hours, SG-1 had been summoned to a short briefing. A compromise has been reached. Though Einar had not explained exactly what he'd be providing, the President himself had accepted the alien's terms in return for immediate information. Unfortunately, the Innarim admitted to having secreted away his notes back on Traer. Though they were hidden outside of the now demolished Hakonan lab, Deimos' Jaffa would likely still be there, picking through the rubble of the building for anything useful.

For security issues, Einar wasn't going alone. Mutual distrust with the higher-ups made them suspicious that Einar might just take his notes and disappear completely, regardless of the fact he was narrowly persuaded back when he could have easily left after helping with the evac mission or that his actual demands were for indefinite stay on Earth.

Silently, Einar led the way on the planet, giving brief signals to the others where necessary. They seemed to take a winding path, following the Innarim's nose. Jaffa must have been patrolling the area. As they skirted the edge of the hills, Jack spotted distant figures in the charred remains of the Traer lab, as predicted. Hopefully, things would go smoothly for a change.

The Innarim stopped them with a wave among a rocky stretch of hills. Rough stones loomed above them, and Einar began to find footholds, steadily clambering up several metres. He stopped, glancing upwards to an opposite rocky wall. With a single coil back, he sprung deftly at it, grabbing on with his claws.

Sam understood. Einar didn't want these notes to be found easily, so he had chosen small ledges and alcoves that were difficult, if not impossible for a human of Jaffa to reach without climbing gear.

"Hey, Carter," Jack asked quietly, approaching her while keeping his eyes on the path they had just come from. "Back on Farlor… you took about a minute to follow through the gate."

"Yes, sir," she whispered back.

"Jonas had spent all day trying to talk Einar out of leaving. What'd you say to him that changed his mind in sixty seconds?"

"Well… I didn't actually say anything, sir," Sam replied truthfully.

"You said nothing? Literally?" Jack said incredulously.

Sam nodded awkwardly. Jack opened his mouth to speak again, but they were both interrupted by the thud of something hitting Jonas on the head. Einar had thrown down a cloth bundle, and Jonas had fumbled the catch. Sam allowed herself a smirk and moved to join the Innarim and the Kelownan. Yet, she could feel her CO's suspicious eyes watching her as she walked. She hadn't lied to him, but he didn't believe her.

They moved on, retrieving a second bundle containing notes, and then onwards to the third.

"This is the last one," Einar declared, climbing to yet another out of the way ledge eroded into the stone of the hills.

SG-1 were keeping watch, and the wolf alien depended on this for his next move. Certain that they couldn't see what he was doing, he carefully found the neatly tied cloth where he had left it and unwrapped the package. From it he picked up a metallic cylinder, with hastily scrawled Hakonan Norse runes on it. It was in his handwriting. The Innarim had been debating a decision since he had suggested the compromise. Now, as he held the item again after hiding it away long before his return to Earth, he made his choice. He stuffed the cylinder into one of his tunic pockets and re-wrapped the bundle. With a signal to Jonas, he tossed the cloth packet down for the Kelownan to catch, this time successfully.

Giving away nothing in his expression, Einar led them back to the gate, snaking past Jaffa patrols safely.

The Innarim had the customary escort to his quarters, now designated permanently as his own, and informed that there would be a guard outside if he needed anything. He had heard this before, when he was first shown to the quarters temporarily, and simply nodded his acknowledgement. When the escorting SF had left, Einar investigated the room to see what had changed. Clean BDUs had been placed in the cabinet and wardrobe, and someone had left some maps of relevant levels and marked down where to find the commissary, the SGC labs and the training rooms. Someone had highlighted the quarters he was in a handwritten label: YOU ARE HERE.

Though being back in the SGC dredged up faded memories from Jack of the base layout and so he knew where places were, he was glad for it. Einar had resolved to make it absolutely clear he wasn't going to be pushed around this time, and he had done that, but now he realised that he had to give some trust and respect to the SGC and the Tauri in order for them to do the same. Einar still didn't trust everyone, but he was relieved to be back where he had last felt at home, after so many vain attempts to find a place on other worlds.

After grabbing a set of BDUs and changing into them, the Innarim warrior fished the metal cylinder out of the earthen Cimmeran tunic he usually wore. The cloth bundles containing hard copies of the plans he had recovered from Traer had been passed on to Jonas to begin translating while Einar took the rest of the day to settle in and rest, but none of the others realised he had smuggled this thing past them. He re-read the runes he had written on it – Phoenix.

His content mood sunk, and Einar sighed to himself as he buried the syringe-like item in the chest of drawers, out of sight.

Several days later, General Hammond had ordered an initial report on what technology the notes from Traer described. It was Major Carter who compiled and delivered it to his office.

"Einar and Jonas have translated all of the notes we recovered, sir. They're designs for the advanced shields and methods of increasing the efficiency of kurstallis power sources. There is a third design, but it's incomplete. Einar hadn't finished it when the Goa'uld Malar showed up on Traer, and then Deimos after him. He's not even sure what it is yet, but he's working on it now," Sam rattled off professionally as she handed the base CO the file.

"And you've analysed how this technology will be able to help us?" Hammond asked, flipping to the relevant page of the report to skim over the results.

"Yes, sir," she nodded, engrossed. "We should be able to start making shield prototypes straight away since we have stockpiles of kurstallis crystals from the mining operations on Hakon, but it may take some time to build them to Earth specifications – Einar's advanced shields were an upgrade on his previous energy-only shields, rather than from scratch, so we have to allow for obstacles along the way."

"What about this energy efficiency information?"

"It's used as part of the advanced shield technology – it's how the devices manage to be more powerful but without a larger power source. It's partly how we never guessed that Einar's shields were improved. As well as that, the scientists on base think they could incorporate this energy efficiency into the designs for the Prometheus if they include a kurstallis energy system parallel to the conventional one. It would slightly increase the production time, which I know is a problem right now with Deimos about to attack, but they believe it would improve the overall operation of the ship. Given that we might be facing three Hatak motherships it won't guarantee anything, but any slight advantage or improvement is better than nothing."

"Thank you, Major," Hammond said. "As long as you and Jonas are working on this, I'll assign Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c to assisting with the Farloran relocation, and with training. We need as many pilots as possible if we can't prevent Deimos coming here, and since the Pentagon has finally approved the Hakonan staffs and started production, SG teams will all have to know how they are used."

Sam hesitated.

"General, do you… do you really think we can stop Deimos in time?"

Hammond put the report down, and started back at Sam grimly: "If we can't, we certainly won't go down without a fight, Major."

Hours changed to days, and then days merged together. The SG teams had found several worlds and had collaborated with the Farloran Elders to decide on the relocation. It would take time to move and establish all of the Farlorans, but two SG teams were dedicated to carry on with it while further training began back at the SGC.

Sam woke up suddenly as a cup of coffee was placed next to her head. She blinked, and realised she was in one of the labs, surrounded by paper. Einar loomed over her, looking vaguely amused.

"Work to be done," he said, inching the coffee closer to her head.

"Hmm…" she mumbled, holding out the pen she had fallen asleep still holding.

He took it, and quietly sat to carry on with writing down his notes and diagrams on the other side of the lab table. The Innarim was still working on the unfinished design he had brought back with him, steadily piecing together more and more of the details in his head, hour after hour. Sam remembered when he had helped the SGC with modifying a generator to resolve the 'two minds one body' incident – he had shown the ability to focus single-mindedly on something back then, but she could tell things had changed. Over the first few days of working on the new technology with the wolf alien she had discovered that he was still focused as before, but he was subdued; he lacked the same enthusiasm; he spoke where necessary rather than talking through all the details.

Sam was doing some work on making the advanced shield technology compatible, but she sat up to drink the coffee first.

"Any idea what it is yet?" she asked, sipping the drink.

Einar didn't glance up, but answered good-naturedly: "I believe it is some kind of storage device. I cannot be sure until I have completed the design."

"Einar," she ventured, putting the mug down. "Why are you suddenly so interested in staying on Earth, after spending so much time away, wandering? It's obvious you expected trouble from the Pentagon and the NID, and that you aren't on great terms with the Colonel anymore."

"I'm better off on Earth – other worlds fear and reject me, as I told you before," Einar didn't look up, but he slowed his writing for a moment. "Yet… I wish I could go back…"

"Go back? To Stoneheim?"

She picked up a pen herself and started to skim over what she's already done the night before as she listened for Einar's explanation.

"No. To Hakon… before it was destroyed," he said, sadly. "It was so much simpler then."

"Will you tell me about it?" Sam asked. Though they had a basic understanding about how Hakonan and Innarim culture worked, Einar had never gone into any massive detail. Daniel was eternally curious when Einar was at the SGC a year ago, and now Jonas asked any questions he could when he had the chance, but overall, there was never time to discuss it due to a crisis they all faced.

He considered the request briefly. Silently agreeing to it by sitting back and putting down his pen, Einar sighed thoughtfully.

"We were all like brothers – the Innarim - and the Hakonans were more than just humans who created us. They were like kin as well. They didn't even rule over us. We lived on Hakon and were the army that protected it, and the Hakonans respected and sustained us."

"The one depends on the other," Sam nodded in understanding. "If you were the Hakonan military, but the Hakonans didn't give the orders, who did?"

"The Tors," Einar stated. "Tor is the rank of leader among Innarim. Unlike your Earth military that has many ranks, there are only these two for us. Warrior Innarim and Tor Innarim. An Innarim warrior can become a Tor Innarim only if they are a seasoned veteran with experience of battle, strategy, planning and leadership."

"And the Innarim decide who rises in rank to Tor?"

"Yes. The Innarim usually numbered around a thousand in total, and a new Innarim was created when another died in battle or from old age. There were only ever five Tor Innarim, each directing around 200 warriors. When a Tor was lost, the remaining leaders decided on who should be promoted to Tor to replace them."

"It does sound a lot simpler," Sam admitted, thinking of how much Jonas would be kicking himself for missing out on all of this. "So what was life like back then?"

"A lot like with SG-1, a close-knit team. Some scouting missions only needed a single Innarim, but warriors often worked in small groups to stage attacks. It took time, sometimes years, to bring down a Goa'uld through our unique method of coaxing them to take us as hosts - we had to be careful that our presence and methods did not become widespread knowledge – and all that time working as a team bonded us all together. We lived in the wilderness, depending on instinct, and we all trusted each other completely. No secrets, no deception… just brotherhood."

He must envy the SG teams, Sam thought.

"You must really miss them all."

"I belonged with them," the solemn alien nodded. "It was my place… my purpose… the Goa'uld were the enemy and it was our job to fight them. Back then it was simple, when things like the Vaktarv were just tales or rumours."

"You're still fighting the Goa'uld though," she assured. "True to your purpose."

"The true purpose of an Innarim warrior," he stressed. "Until I found Jarl Sigrun's message, I was doing just that. Yet, I am not that and never was."

"Oh, right, that 'Keeper of the Legacy' thing," Sam remembered.

"I never asked for it. I don't want to be the Vaktarv," the wolf despaired, leaning his head back hopelessly. "When I thought I was a warrior, I was happy. I knew what I was, what I had to do, and could choose whether or not to continue fighting. Then I find out that I am supposed to be the Vaktarv."

"Is that so bad?"

"This knowledge," Einar gestured to the designs littered about the lab, "was coded into my mind when I was created, and so I had no say in the matter. To possess this knowledge is by definition to be the Keeper of the Legacy. I could choose to no longer be a warrior, but I cannot choose to no longer be the Vaktarv."

"And that's why Sigrun was asking for forgiveness in his message?"

"I believe so."

Sam paused, thinking on Einar's words.

"The Vaktarv wasn't the only rumour then? You said there were others."

Einar had picked up his pen again, but stopped at her continued questioning.

"Yes, but most were just tales and superstitions. Legends of past warriors and leaders. Like that of Tor Fenrir, the first warrior to become a Tor Innarim, or of Vidar the Wanderer. Vidar ceased his warrior role after many centuries of fighting, and he is said to have had an unusual love of exploring. He spent years simply travelling from world to world to see what was on them, and some say that many Hakonan outposts and many Goa'uld bases the Innarim destroyed were on planets originally explored by Vidar."

"What happened to him in the end?"

"None of us were quite sure. It is just a tale, though his name was recorded on Hakon so he most likely actually existed many centuries before I was created. The story says that in the end his passion for new places led him to distant stars. I never understood that, because the Stargate meant that other stars and suns were a simple gate trip away. Yet, as I say, it is just a tale… a story…"

Throughout the narrative, Sam sensed a note of his old enthusiasm and laid-back demeanour returning. Clearly he still loved his home and his people, but it was all gone now.

"Well, there are plans to be made, work to be done," Einar declared, resuming with the design.

"One last question…"

"Yes?"

"You said that after you tried to live in other worlds when you left the SGC, you gave up and lived on your own from then on. If Earth was the place you felt most at home out of everywhere, why spend so much time on your own before coming here?"

"Do not misunderstand, Major. I did not return simply because I ran into Jonas in the Traer lab. I wanted to return to Earth, but then I was called to Jarl Sigrun's message and felt compelled to write down what I knew. Fears about the reactions of your leaders, and confusion over the mind-sharing experiences, kept me away."

All that time alone, and partly because he doesn't trust the Tauri anymore, she dwelled, hurt that he had chosen solitude over human company.

The Innarim stood, and watched her expression carefully, guessing at her injured thoughts.

"I do not distrust all humans. Some have given me no reason to."

Sam was caught by surprise when Einar placed his paw-like hand on her arm reassuringly.

"I would have returned eventually."

Sam gave a half-smile, and patted his paw in return.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made them look towards the doorway. It was Jack, watching the two of them suspiciously.

"What do you want?" Einar asked sharply at his expression.

"Shouldn't you two be working?" Jack pointed to the unfinished designs.

"Shouldn't you be training people?"

Jack frowned, used to being insolent rather than having it directed at him.

"Whatever," Jack said as he ambled into the room. "How's progress in techno-babble land?"

"Fine, sir," Sam nodded.

Jack stood across from the pair to look at the advanced shield notes while Einar and Sam pondered over the incomplete designs. He scanned the notes and diagrams idly, a strange feeling of curiosity urging him to look. Jack recognised Sam's handwriting, and the design looked like she was creating an armband-like device to hold the shielding technology to mimic Einar's bracers. The notion of armbands brought back troubling memories, but he pushed them aside. Jack felt the sudden prickling sensation of being watched, and as he took his eyes off the design, the obvious was true. The Innarim was looking right back.

"It is clear to me that you are troubled."

Einar wasn't beating around the bush. The wolf was speaking Hakonan Norse, and so it took a few seconds for his mind to recall words and meanings from the dormant parts of his brain, but Jack decided to answer in kind. Einar was purposefully excluding Carter by speaking his native tongue, and there had to be a reason.

"You have knowledge that could help defeat the Goa'uld but you waste energy on being bitter and difficult. I don't understand your attitude."

"I have my own problems. Besides, I do not understand yours," Einar countered. "I never have."

Sam was looking between the two of them, not understanding a word, but they continued regardless.

"What attitude?"

"Though at times I may disagree with this… you are not a fool," Einar stated. "I have been in your mind. You have intelligence which could so easily be used, but you lock it away behind mental walls. It is not the only thing you have built walls around either. You have experienced something that Innarim never have – something deeply important to you and yet you conceal it too."

"What are you talking about?" Jack frowned with suspicion.

"You hide so much that comes naturally to you."

"Well, some of us have responsibilities," Jack snapped back. "Not everyone has the freedom to act on instinct. Are you done with the psychology?"

Despite being the polar opposite of a scientist, the large schematic in front of him didn't look like the confusing mess of information he usually perceived when technology designs shoved in his face. His brain seemed to sense there was order and logic to this plan, but like an optical illusion that he hadn't figured out Jack didn't yet comprehend the meaning just beneath the surface. With a grimace, he put down the design and headed back to the door.

"So, I am not the only one who has both knowledge and bitterness," Einar spoke again in Hakonan Norse, having witnessed Jack's scrutiny, "… Vaktarv O'Neill."

Jack stopped short for a beat, clenching his fists, before simply carrying on out to the corridor.

It was midnight that night when Sam went to find Jack. She knew he'd be at home, trying to be as far away from all things connected to the current crisis as possible without actually leaving the country… or the planet, for that matter. When she rapped on the door, Sam could hear Jack's voice hailing her from nearby, muffled slightly from distance.

She followed the sound, circling around the side of his house. She could see moonlight reflecting off the still water of his pond, but couldn't see Jack until he sudden sat up.

"Sir?" she called, confused. "Why are you lying out here on the grass… in the dark?"

"Just thinkin'"

She tentatively crossed the distance between them as he continued.

"Out here, when it's dark… nothing to interrupt me. No phone, no TV-"

"No light?" she cut in curiously as she sat down on the grass next to him. "Can I ask you about what happened this morning? You and Einar seemed to have a few tense words."

"We knew everything about each other," Jack explained as he lay back down to gaze upwards at the midnight sky, "but we didn't understand each other. I think it just confused us even more."

"You two are from different species."

"Well, looks like we're both having side-effects. We've both changed," Jack sighed. "I've been trying to organise what inside my head is from me and what's from him, just to try and figure out who I am again. It's not easy, especially when I'm finding it harder and harder to resist just doing and saying what I feel like. Hammond would kick my ass… metaphorically. I'm not an Innarim, but I have an Innarim disposition toward instinct. How am I supposed to finally get back to being Colonel Jack O'Neill?"

"I know what you're going through, sir," Sam slowly admitted, stretching out on the grass too. "After I was a host to Jolinar, I had fragments of knowledge and memories that were in my head but weren't my own. Like you, I tried to separate them out, so I could be me again. Myself before it happened. In the end, it's not how I got over it."

"How did you do it, then?" Jack asked quietly yet curiously.

"Instead of trying to move backwards, I moved forwards."

"Huh?"

"I accepted that even though I'd changed, I was still Samantha Carter. The things that happen to us… they help define who we are. Life is like a 'Vale of Suffering' – when we suffer we grow, become something greater than before. Once I realised that – stopped fighting it – I found I could keep going. That experience with Jolinar is now part of who I am, but it's nothing to do with labels like 'human' or 'Tok'ra'. Try looking at it that way: after all, Einar has grown up and matured because he inherited your memories of Black Ops and other missions before you came to the SGC. What happened to both of you a year ago is now a part of his identity. The same is true for you."

"What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger?" Jack summarised.

"That sounds like a cliché, sir," Sam smiled. "I thought-"

"I know, Carter," he cut in with mock irritation.

Drifting into silence, they continued to gaze up at the stars, revelling in the darkness that left them to their thoughts.

Some miles away, deep in the mountain, Einar also lay in darkness. Yet, it was not peaceful. The Innarim warrior curled up from agony that shot through his limbs, practically immobile. He didn't know how much time it had taken for the wave of pain to subside. When the sensation receded and he regained control of his weary body, Einar fumbled around in one of the drawers, anxiously grabbing at the metal cylinder like a life-line.

Einar simply looked at it, his thoughts and fear racing through his mind, before hiding the container once more among the folded BDUs.