Earth getting caught in a time-loop for over three months—three very long months for Daniel, Jacob, and the Furlings and probably even longer for Jack and Teal'c, repeating the same 10 hours over and over and over again ad nauseam—was a reminder for Daniel of how dangerous and unpredictable their jobs were, of how much they had not known getting into this job of exploring the galaxies those years ago in the wake of the SGC's second mission to Abydos. Sujanha had … opinions about the whole mess, utter disgust with the Ancients for leaving their technology lying around, scattered across the galaxy; disbelief at how SG1 managed to keep getting itself into such situations, even without Daniel, who sometimes seemed like a magnet for trouble … according to his teammates; and a mixture of annoyance and frustration over the whole situation and its entirely avoidable consequences for her people and for the SGC generally.
Thankfully, no lasting harm was done because of the whole Groundhog-months incident. Unlike many SGC disasters, nobody had been killed or injured—or, at least, in any way that extended beyond the loops—and as far as the stories went, the only casualty was Jack's fondness for Fruit Loops. I never understood how he could eat those things, anyway. Daniel's taste in food had been highly shaped by the amount of the time he had spent abroad for work. And on a budget, there are better things to buy than sugary cereals that leave you hungry in an hour.
During the ongoing lull between major campaigns against the Goa'uld, Daniel took the chance to go to earth for a week or so to spend a little time with SG1, make some copies of some of the reference books in his office, and collect some of his things from his apartment that Sam and Jack had put into storage after the debacle with Maybourne and the Tollan. He met up with SG1 (minus Nyan) on Abydos first. Sha're and Shifu were going to spend the week at the village, letting Shifu get some more extended uncle and grandfather-time. Daniel was still hesitant to take them to earth—the NID were down but not out—but he had sent word to Jack, and they all had trooped out … under some excuse or other … to reunite with Sha're and Skaara and meet Shifu for the first time.
While Daniel was on earth, getting a chance to catch up with Robert was an added bonus. After the formation of SG1 and the beginning of regular missions through the Stargate, Robert had been one of the first people Daniel had suggested for recruitment to the program. He has a master's degree in archaeology, but his specialty was in paleontology and anthropology, in which he had dual doctorates like Daniel. His skill with books, dig sites, and cold hard data was much better than his skill with people, not that Daniel had a leg to stand on to judge him.
Hours spent pouring over dusty books and thousand-year-old papyri and artifacts do not people-skills make.
What does he always say? People are "too recent."
When Robert offered Daniel the chance to spend some time at an ongoing dig-site on P3X-888, which would hopefully give clues as to the origin of the Goa'uld species, he jumped at the chance. Archaeology, dig-sites, that was his bread and butter, the next best thing to translating obscure, old texts. Daniel had gotten the chance here and there to spend a few hours at some of the Furling dig-sites in Asteria, helping to continue their excavations of the mass gravesites from the Great War, but that was different, though more important in its own way … the chance to bring one more soldier home, the chance to give one more family closure. P3X-888 was a chance to do archaeology for the love of the field, for the love of learning something new (and hopefully important) about the Goa'uld.
And whatever we learn might prove useful for Sujanha.
His boxes of books, knick-knacks, and papers were sitting, waiting to be carted through the gate back to Uslisgas. (Furling scanners, a variant of his photo-album stone, were so much more convenient than Xerox machines.)
He'd gotten to spend some good time catching up with Jack, Sam, and Teal'c and getting to know Nyan.
What was the harm in spending the last couple of days of his break getting his hands dirty?
(Famous last words.)
P3X-888 was, so far, unique, as it was the only planet in the Milky-Way in which Goa'uld skeletons had been discovered in the fossil record. Excavations, largely overseen by Robert, had been ongoing there for some months. The time-loop thingy had, thankfully, caused little disruption at the site, as Robert, the other archaeologists, and the SG team on rotation to keep an eye on them had all been off-world there when it occurred. Being untended and un-attended for months could have done irreparable damage to any uncovered remains; mixed modern materials in with the older strata;[1] and harmed the integrity of the balks,[2] causing collapses and yet more inter-mingling of layers.
It could have been a right royal mess to return to.
Months of work undone.
Thankfully, none of that had occurred, and it was to a well-maintained dig-site that Daniel arrived. The temporary living quarters were not air-conditioned, but P3X-888 was a temperate forest world—Jack would be grumbling about the trees. After doing digs in the scorching sun of Egypt and living on Abydos without air-conditioning, this weather, though slightly sticky and warm, was absolutely pleasant by comparison. All the equipment (with spares) that they needed was at hand. No worrying about funding … or time. No Jack pulling him away to keep on moving. No getting a bare glimpse at the wonders of a new culture, only to have it deemed "unimportant" and a waste of time.
The first two glorious days passed normally, and on the morning of day three, they—Daniel and Robert had taken the chance to work together in the same unit—discovered a new fossil in their most recently excavated pit, many layers down. This fossil was quite old.
"Look at this," Daniel exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the perfectly preserved Goa'uld skeleton in front of him, as he brushed off a few more wisps of dirt with a soft brush. Fossils could be extremely fragile, and he didn't want to damage it.
"I know!" Robert seemed just as enthralled by their find.
"It's beautiful," continued Daniel. Being back in the field was wonderful. It was just like old times again. At least, it's cooler here.
"Female," Robert noted, adding a second later, "queen … look at the dorsal structure." He traced the relevant areas in the air with one finger.
The enlarged musculature and dorsal structure were still clearly visible even in the fossil. Daniel had noted the differences from the other fossils they had found so far, and Robert's greater know-how with fossils confirmed his guess that this was probably a queen. He grabbed his dictaphone, which was sitting on their equipment box in front of them, and started recording, as Robert continued clearing off the loose dirt around the fossil.
"SG-11, Archaeological survey P3X-888, dig site four …"
"Five!" Robert broke in.
Oops.
" … Five." Daniel corrected his report and then continued. "Subject: Queen, primordial Goa'uld, as evidenced by the enlarged pectoral musculature and dorsal structure. This Goa'uld ancestor appears to have been a …"
"Cleopatra!"
What?
Daniel hit pause on the recording and glanced across at his friend.
"Well, I found her," Robert noted. "I get to name her … no, Cleo."
Julius, Brutus, Cleopatra. I'm sensing a theme.
Colorful. What's the harm?
With a grin, Daniel resumed recording his report, and Robert returned to excavating around the remains of … Cleo with a small, fine brush.
"Cleo, as she has been so colorfully named by Robert Rothman, appears to have been a predator, not parasitical. It is possible that the Goa'uld evolved for millions of years in the prehistoric oceans of this planet before ever taking on hosts …"
With a fine pair of tweezers, Robert took a small bone sample from the … spine … of the symbiote and dropped it into a clear vial with a small amount of light-blue liquid at the bottom. "Let's get a sedimentary timeline before we jump to conclusions here, please."
It was a very Robert-esque protestation.
"Err …"—This report will need editing anyway … a lot of editing—"… Testing for Naquadah levels."
Rothman passed the vial over, and Daniel took it, shaking it gently. The color of the liquid remained unchanged, which meant there were not even trace amounts of naquadah in the fossil's—in Cleo's—body.
"Wow! Nothing, not even trace amounts," Daniel exclaimed.
"We didn't find any naquadah in Brutus or Julius either," Robert noted, excited, his gaze flitting between the vial and the fossil.
"It must have become part of their Goa'uld makeup later in their evolution. That's significant," Daniel mused.
"How so?"
"I have no idea," he admitted. Yet. Malek is going to be fascinated when she hears about this. "Uh, let's crate this one." We can study it at our leisure and run more tests back at the SGC. (There was only so much diagnostic equipment that could be carted through the gate. Only so many FREDs could be spared for this archaeological expedition, and the soldiers would complain about being turned into pack mules.) Daniel turned, glancing around for one of the members of SG-11. "Loeder!" He called, finally spotting one of them a stone's throw away.
Robert retrieved his canteen from beside their toolbox and took a drink and then offered the flask to Daniel. "Have some."
Daniel cut a glance at him, the majority of his attention still fixed on the naquadah-test vial. Warm water … out in the sun for hours … I'll pass. (He'd gotten spoiled.) "No, thank you."
"Go ahead," his friend prodded him. "Hawkins can make a water run." He grinned, smirked really, and climbed to his feet, patting Daniel on the shoulder. "I love ordering those military types around … Hawkins!"
Robert disappeared. A few seconds later, Loeder approached the dig site, carrying a large container full of liquid plaster for making casts to transport the fossils back as. The fossils were very fragile, and getting them back to the SGC in one piece was a tricky business.
"Mark this one Cleo"—one of Loeder's eyebrows crawled up his forehead—"and don't ask." It would be one more thing chalked up to the eccentricities of the archaeology department.
Daniel gathered up a few things and moved away to a nearby table, leaving Loeder room to work in peace. (A twig snapped in the background.) On a large map of the entire dig site, Daniel started to carefully mark the location of their find. Another twig snapped, and Loeder stood up. In a wooded environment with many people moving around, there was nothing necessarily suspicious about snapping twigs … even on an alien world. And yet …suddenly, a massive bulk appeared from out of nowhere from the tree-line a few yards away and bull-rushed them both. Loeder started firing his side-arm, but the creature kept coming. Loeder was batted aside like a toy. Something flew at Daniel, and all went dark an instant later.
(The entire attack was over in a couple of seconds.)
(Too caught off guard, too surprised by the attack on what was thought to be a safe world, Daniel never brought up his shield.)
(If he had realized his mistake, Daniel would have known that Ragnar and Jack were both probably going to kill him for making a rookie mistake. He was not a solider, did not have a soldier's instincts, but was not without training. Those two had made sure of that over the years. So had Ruarc.)
Consciousness returned in a very painful wave.
Daniel's head was throbbing in time with the pounding of his heart, or so it felt.
He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, or so it seemed.
Did someone get the number of that bus?
What happened?
The last thing he remembered was working at dig site 4 with Robert.
No, it was 5, right?
Then everything was a blur.
Did I trip, hit my head or something?
Daniel was occasionally a bit of a klutz. Very occasionally. (Or maybe a little more often if he was paying more attention to what he was studying than where his feet were going.)
Slowly, he peeled his eyes open.
And immediately he wished he hadn't.
Who turned up the sun?
The bright light felt like Janet's pen-light stabbing into his skull. It made the pounding in his skull notch up a level or two, and the pain and pounding did nothing kind for his stomach, either.
Daniel opened his eyes only slits a moment later and was marginally more successful.
He was lying on his side in the dirt … somewhere. Not at the dig-site. Not in camp.
Where am I?
What happened?
Daniel's head hurt, and his mind felt like it was moving at half-speed.
He lifted his head slowly, otherwise his head spun with dizziness, and his eyes focused on his hands … bound in front of him … with what looked like rough strips of leather.
What the h**l happened?
There was a rope.
He followed the rope with his eyes carefully … up to one very big, very leathery hand, with very long, sharp claws … and a smear of green across the back.
Blood?
It … the being … was very big. With every breath, there was a low growl that issued from it. It was dressed in roughly cut leather garments, and there was some type of fur slung across its back.
What?
What happened?
Where am I?
What had happened to Robert and the others?
His thoughts felt muddied … like a dig-site after rain.
Or did he mean muddled?
Both?
He couldn't remember what had happened, how he got here.
Daniel's thoughts felt like they were going in circles.
The thing turned.
His head still hurt.
It was an Unas … just as menacing and scary as the last couple Daniel had met.
He could have done without meeting another.
What was an Unas doing here?
His eyes … in the sunlight … felt like they did when Janet got too enthusiastic with her pen-light. He almost certainly had a concussion.[3] He'd be lucky if it weren't anything worse.
It noticed he was awake … and growled.
Not good.
Ragnar growling, Sujanha growling, that didn't scare him, but this did.
The Unas gave a sharp tug on the rope and dragged Daniel to his feet.
So not good.
What had happened to Robert?
Where was Daniel, for that matter?
His head hurt.
The Unas half-led, half-dragged Daniel out of the clearing in which he had awakened … regained consciousness … some minutes before and into the trees. And then they walked.
And they walked.
And they walked.
And they walked.
And they walked.
And they walked.
And walked.
And walked.
And walked.
And walked.
Daniel's head was still throbbing … pounding … like the inside of a drum with the thumping of his heart and the beat of his stumbling footsteps. Was this walk ever going to end? Or would he drop first? But then the Unas might keep going and just drag him. That would be worse.
The only thing visible as far as Daniel's eyes could see—and without his glasses, that was not very far at all—was trees, trees, and yet more trees. Jack'd be complaining. He was hot, exhausted, thirsty, and dripping with sweat. Dry heat. Give me dry heat. Still, they kept walking. And walking. And walking. And walking.
Daniel's head was still throbbing, but his thoughts felt a little less muddy and tumbled the more time that passed, though his mouth was quickly starting to feel like someone had stuffed it with cotton. Emphasis on "a little." The thought of food, however, still made him feel more than a little nauseous for the moment. Confusion still wracked him … what had happened? Where was he now? (No idea, and the Unas hadn't given him time to pick up a map and compass or radio.) In what direction was the Stargate? (Who the h**l knew that either?) And all of that was going to be a definite problem unless … until … he was found. Had Robert, had SG-11 even survived this freak attack to take word to the SGC? Was there just the one Unas? Were there more who had attacked the others? The group was not due to return to the SGC for two more days, and Daniel himself was not due to return to the SGC until tomorrow.
That was a long time to wait, potentially, to be missed.
A long time to wait to be rescued.
A long distance for searchers to make up, especially at the pace the Unas was forcing.
How long had they been walking?
Daniel didn't have his watch.
He had needed his earth watch again for the first time in a long time.
It felt like forever.
(With the training he did with Ragnar … and Ruarc, once … he was probably in the best shape of his life.)
(They didn't have a habit of making him workout with an … almost certain concussion, though.)
Daniel was stumbling with exhaustion with every stride.
It took all his breath, it felt like, to force out his next words. "Ok, I know it seems completely unlikely that you understand a word I'm saying but … I've gone about as far as I can go at this particular place, so, with your permission, I'm going to fall down now!" And with those last words, his legs gave out, and he collapsed in a heap on his side.
Ow!
His head started throbbing with renewed intensity at the jolt.
His arms hurt, too, bound in front of him. Unable to break his fall, he had landed awkwardly. At least he could feel and move all of his fingers.
The Unas turned and growled.
"Rest!" Daniel continued, gulping for air, taking advantage of every second of not-walking that he had. His legs were burning. "This is a thing you should err … become familiar with! Rest … it means … rest!"
The Unas gave an angry growl, and Daniel jerked back instinctively, his hind-brain kicking in. Okay. That's not working. But … he was so tired. He let his head down to rest on the soft earth.
"That's close … try again … GRRRESSST!" Jack's sarcasm seemed to have taken over his mouth. Possibly antagonizing a very large Unas was probably not a wise life choice.
Blame it on the concussion.
His mouth didn't usually run this much when he was … scared … kidnapped … take your pick.
Definitely blame it on the concussion.
The Unas just stared at him.
At least, it wasn't growling … for the moment.
How do I get myself into these situations?
Going on the dig was supposed to be no fuss, no danger, but this was the Stargate program.
Murphy's Law. If it could go wrong, it would.
Then the weight in Daniel's pants pocket—thankfully, not the side he was lying on—wormed it ways through his thick skull. His radio. His radio was still in his pocket. How had he not realized it before? They had been walking for like hours, and it wasn't like the Unas had exactly searched him, now that he thought about it. His boot-knife, a gift from Ragnar, was still in his boot, not that he could reach it at the moment, and his gauntlets were still on his arms.
I really am an idiot.
A very concussed idiot.
Though … would his gauntlets really do him much good … for now? His personal shield wouldn't cut the rope. A shield would form around such an obstacle, and the rope would make the shield flare visibly, revealing to the Unas that he actually had one. I'd still be bound, and it's not like I could outrun this sucker, even if I were free, and I have no idea where the Stargate even is. Though would this Unas recognize a personal shield? This one seemed different from the one Jack and Teal'c had talked about in the labyrinth or Sokar's minion on the Middle-Ages planet.
With his gauntlets intact, Daniel could activate his emergency distress beacon, but … but … Would getting kidnapped but still being on P3X-888 qualify as a severe enough emergency for activating a distress beacon that would get the nearest Furling warship responding with combat boots on? For one person? Yes, the Fleet was on a lull between campaigns, but it was not like there was no fighting, and there were other things the Fleet was responsible for … and … and … and … SG11 will be looking for me … assuming they aren't dead. Jack, Sam, and Teal'c will be in hot pursuit as soon as they hear.
If Robert had survived, he could have made a run for the gate. He'd competed in decathlons … forever ago … until he'd messed up his knee. He could still hot-foot it, just not up to his old standards.
Considering the primitive nature of this Unas … was he actually a Goa'uld? What was Daniel's purpose in all this? Why had he been kidnapped? They were a carnivorous species … they knew that from Cimmeria. Am I on the menu? That was an … unpleasant thought.
Stop cogitating and actually do something!
Slowly, carefully, Daniel reached toward his pocket and retrieved his radio. "This, this is … nothing that you need to be worried about. This is a radio. It's err…so my friends can find me and shoot you!" he said, slowly pushing himself up to his elbows and then to his feet, his mouth running like the spirit of Jack O'Neill was upon him.
(The Unas was still just looking at him. It definitely seemed fairly primitive, compared to the one on Cimmeria.)
It approached one step, and Daniel leaned back. "Uh … this is Daniel Jackson. If anyone can hear me …"
Before Daniel could say anything more, the Unas swiped the radio angrily from his hands with one swift lunge, and the very fragile piece of machinery arched away to go thwap against a downed-tree trunk a few yards away, shattering into fragments.
So much for that idea.
The creature jerked hard on the rope-lead, and Daniel almost face-planted into the ground. Ow. "Ok, I get it, no more radio. Radio bad!" He huffed for breath. "Do you speak any kind of language at all? I mean, you must be intelligent. I mean, you made that necklace and those clothes." Daniel gestured to the Unas's clothing and the large bone necklace wrapped around its neck and across its throat.
The creature just stared back at him, occasionally cocking its head a little, and then jerked hard on the rope, dragging Daniel to his feet.
"Ah yeah, yep, that was refreshing, thank you. I'm good for another ten miles!" It was a level of utter sarcasm that Jack would have been proud of.
Did anyone hear my very aborted message?
Should I activate the beacon?
The thoughts swirled around in his aching head. Despite the rest of him being soaked with sweat, his mouth felt as dry as sand … or cotton … or both. His stomach … was he nauseous? Or was he so hungry he was almost nauseous?
One foot in front of the other.
His shield would keep him from becoming breakfast, lunch, or dinner, if all else failed.
For now, one foot in front of the other.
SG1 would find him.
And if all else failed, Sujanha would.
She just might never let me out of her sight again.
I'm never going to hear the end of this.
And they walked.
And they walked.
And they walked.
And they walked.
And they walked.
And walked.
And walked.
And walked.
And walked.
And walked.
And walked some more.
Trees, trees, and more trees. The Unas had no conception of rest breaks and just kept up the same relentless pace. With the heavy tree cover, it was hard for Daniel to judge how much time had passed. His sense of time was not up to snuff at the moment, and he was more concerned with putting one foot in front of the other and not falling flat on his face and getting dragged along like cargo. The Unas seemed to want him alive for now—if he wanted me dead, I'd never have woken up at all—but there were … gradations of alive. There was no guarantee Daniel needed to be in good condition at the end of this journey. And isn't that a pleasant thought? NOT.
He thought of Sha're and Shifu on Abydos, fixed their faces in his mind. He would get back to them. He had his shield. That would get him out of any further pickles he encountered.
One foot in front of the other.
One foot in front of the other.
One foot in front of the other.
Finally, they came to a small clearing on the edge of a river. Through a gap in the trees, Daniel could see two moons hanging in the sky above. Such sights had become rather normal by now, but it was still a stark reminder that, despite the very earth-esque surroundings … very much like a very obscure National Park, this was still an alien world.
Finally, here the Unas stopped and squatted down on the ground. His legs aching for all they were worth, Daniel gratefully took advantage of the rest stop and collapsed onto the ground on his back and closed his eyes. "Yes, rest! This is … this is good. This is rest."
Had he ever felt this tired before in his life?
There were a few seconds of blissful quiet. His eyelids were so heavy that Daniel felt he could have almost dropped off to sleep right then and there, despite all his aches and pains.
But then … the Unas started to make a noise, repetitive and cyclical. Daniel opened his eyes and sat up, his brain automatically trying to catalog what it was doing. It was making the same sort of repeating sounds over and over again and moving its head in time with those sounds. It was almost … chant-like … just wordless.
"Is this some sort of meditation or …?" Daniel asked, though he was not exactly expecting an answer, at least, not in some form he could understand. I understand growls. 'Shut up' is quite clear.
Slowly and cautiously, Daniel dug his dictaphone recorder out of his jacket pocket, ditched the protective plastic bag, and hit record. (The Unas was continuing the same … chant.) If he made some notes, he could give his friends a trail to follow and some clues … if he ditched the recorder at some point. (If they didn't find it, he'd lose all of his notes, though.)
"This is Doctor Daniel Jackson. In case anybody finds this, I've met a wonderful new friend, and he's taking me on a long journey to see his friends," Daniel began softly. Half-way through, the Unas suddenly stopped chanting, and its head snapped around toward Daniel.
Oops.
"I'm just making notes," Daniel said softly in his best soothing tone for use on uneasy native populations. It seemed to work, and the Unas slowly went back to his chanting. Score one. Daniel continued speaking into his recorder. "At the moment, my main concern is that my new friend is an aboriginal Unas in its un-Goa'ulded state, and that I might be the evening meal. My shield will protect me from becoming lunch, but I have no way of finding the gate, even if I get free." (The chanting continued.) "It, err … or rather, he appears to have undeveloped chin and facial horns, which indicate he could be a subspecies. Possibly a juvenile."
Robert would be pleased I remember something from all his lectures.
The Unas suddenly stopped his chant and growled sharply at Daniel, who flinched instinctively, cupping his hands protectively around his recorder.
"Shut up?" Daniel asked rhetorically. "I understood that. We're communicating."
For some level of communicating …
The Unas returned to his chanting, but there were words now, understandable among the other breathy noises. "A cha'ka. A cha'ka. A cha'ka. A cha'ka. A cha'ka."
Actual words.
The only question was … what did they mean?
Daniel shifted the recorder so it was facing more towards the Unas. Hopefully, it would pick up some of the words. Then Daniel began to do what he did best: learn a new language. He started trying to mimic the Unas's pronunciation. There was more to pick up than there had been on Abydos, but he knew over two dozen languages. He could do this.
"Schakka … Schakka … Chaka!" That got an immediate response, and it … he … stopped and stared at Daniel. Was that surprise Daniel was seeing in the Unas's face. "Is that what you call yourself? Chaka? Daniel, I'm Daniel." Well, I've definitely got its attention now. Reading body language off of the very non-human Furlings was helping here, and that definitely didn't seem like the right kind of reaction for "Chaka" to be his name. "Chaka is something else?"
Daniel glanced up through the break in the trees, saw the moons in the sky. The Unas had only started this chant after they got to the clearing, the first place that day (he thought) where the moons had been visible. "Is Chaka the moon? This is some sort of moon chant?"
The Unas started, its eyes going up towards the sky. Its mouth was open a little … in surprise, maybe. Daniel was getting intrigued now. He might have been kidnapped, but this Unas … it was definitely intelligent. It was following Daniel's conversation … somewhat, though he didn't understand the English words. This wasn't some dumb beast.
"Moons coming into alignment?" Daniel suggested, trying to make the appropriate hand gestures to illustrate his words.
That got a very negative reaction from the Unas, who gave another loud growl.
Guessing not?
Daniel jerked his hands back toward his chest and curled his shoulders submissively, dropping his head. Body language—submissiveness, in this case—was much more universal than words. Not a threat. Not a threat. Not a threat. Calm down. "Moon chant," he muttered to himself. "What was I thinking?" Blame the concussion.
Suddenly, the Unas stiffened, and a second later, Daniel heard a low mechanical noise. He looked up and saw a UAV flying a search pattern high above. And of course, we're hidden by the trees. The Unas shot to his feet, obviously alarmed. If I try to make a break for it, he'd catch me … and get very angry.
"Shesh!" it exclaimed.
A new word! And much clearer context, too. "What?" "Danger!" What is he saying? Context gave him a starting place, but there were still so many possibilities.
"Shesh, what is that?" Daniel asked.
The Unas continued staring up at the sky, moving nervously, shifting back and forth. "Chaka, keka! Shesh! Chaka keka! Shesh!" He was afraid. That much was clear from his tone of voice and his body language.
"UAV!" Daniel interrupted, trying to mimic its flight with his hands. "UAV! It's my friends looking for me." (He wasn't quite so sure that he wanted them to shoot this Unas now, … as long as there were no actual threats of actually being eaten.)
"Shesh! Chaka keka!" The Unas was repeating the same words or phrases, depending on how much meaning one 'word' could encode in their language.
"You're frightened! It's ok, it won't hurt you. It won't hurt you." Daniel kept his voice low and soothing, and slowly the young Unas calmed and sunk back to the ground.
Progress.
After leaving the clearing, Daniel and the Unas, whatever his name was, followed the river for a bit longer before they finally went down to the bank. The river was … somewhat muddy … not particularly pleasant looking, but it was water. Daniel knew the very unpleasant risks of drinking unclean, contaminated water, but he also knew the very real risks of dehydration in this climate, given all the physical exertion he was doing. It was a calculated risk. I'm not carrying any water purification tablets, and even if I were, I don't have something to hold water while the tablets work.
"Hey." That got the Unas's attention. "Water … I need water," said Daniel, gesturing with his bound hands toward the river.
The Unas turned, scanning the area … uneasily? … but finally led him down to the bank itself. Daniel went to his knees and leaned down to take a drink of water but was roughly jerked back, one very large hand with very long, sharp claws on his shoulder. (He could feel the slight prick-pressure through his shirt and jacket.) After taking another long … uneasy? … look around, the Unas also knelt by the river bank and mimed bringing a cupped-hand full of water to his mouth. Very interesting! But why? What's up?
Daniel stretched his hands out. With the Unas holding the rope, he couldn't follow those instructions. The Unas stared at him and then slowly put down the rope.
Daniel leaned down and splashed water across his face. It was very pleasantly cool, if not pleasant to look at, even in his cupped hands. Then he cautiously took a tiny sip of water, just enough to moisten his parched mouth, and tried to swallow as little as possible. Really don't want the plague.
The Unas was looking away. There's my chance! Daniel snatched up the rope, shot to his feet, and beat it … like a bat out of hell, as Jack might say, fleeing back up the path and then parallel to the river bank as fast as his exhausted, shaky legs could carry him. Hopefully, there would be a shallow crossing nearby.
There were always dangers in crossing a river where you couldn't see the bottom or what was in the water.
Trying to swim with his hands bound—the ropes were too tight to have a hope of getting them off, even with the water as lubrication—would not end well either.
(How would a shield react to water? Would it trap the water inside the bubble? Trying to switch it from bubble to skin-tight on the run … without practice … was not going to happen.)
Daniel was fast. Fear was an excellent motivator.
The Unas was faster, however, quickly appearing behind him on the path.
Daniel backed toward the riverbank, trying to keep some distance between them. His earlier scientific curiosity was quickly retreating back behind his survival instincts.
He's angry again.
Daniel entered the water. This was a deep spot—the water quickly came up to his knees and then his waist—but he was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard spot. Or in this case, between a deep river with an unknown current and unknown … inhabitants … and a very unhappy, very big Unas, who had kidnapped him for some still unknown reason.
It was not that far from bank to bank, and the world's worst backstroke was effective in getting him half-way across the river without drowning. The Unas had run off as he entered the water, but as Daniel got further across, he saw that it had suddenly appeared in his path … on the opposite shore … the one Daniel was making for.
How?
How?
There was no visible, easy crossing—human easy, at least—upstream or downstream, not that he could see.
Daniel regained his feet, the water about at his waist.
Now what?
They were at an impasse.
Daniel was … free … by some meaning of the word.
The Unas was in his path, but it wouldn't come closer than a pace or two from the water, moving restlessly back and forth, approaching a little closer and then retreating.
What does he know about this water I don't? Daniel wasn't stupid.
He was starting to feel more than a little uneasy.
Suddenly, there was a noise from behind him.
Daniel jerked around.
There was … something … swimming towards him … in the water.
Oh, that's not good.
Very nasty things could hide in rivers. Things with very nasty teeth.
Daniel hastily retreated backwards, stutter-stepping out of the river, his back to the Unas, which suddenly felt like the lesser threat.
Not good.
Not good.
So not good.
Something leapt from the river in a blur … something long and thin. It was squeaking … a very familiar sound. The Unas caught it, and the blur resolved into a Goa'uld symbiote.
Oh, bloody h**l. (Sarah had always been fond of that particular profanity.)
The Unas tore the symbiote in two with a quick twist of his wrists, repeating the same word as he did so. "Keka, keka, keka." He grabbed Daniel's shoulder and smeared the dead symbiote's bright blue blood across its face.
(Why did it have blue blood?)
Daniel could feel his heart pounding in his throat. That had been a very close shave. In that brief moment of panic, he had not even thought of his personal shield, which was stupid, so stupid of him. Panic would get him killed. Ragnar would have known how to respond in such a situation. Sujanha would have, but in the end, Daniel was not a soldier and did not have a soldier's instincts.
He backed away slowly, mind whirring as he did so. "Keka. Dead? Keka means dead? Danger?"
Daniel tried to edge away, and the Unas jerked roughly on the rope, which had found its way back into his hands, growling, "Ka!"
The meaning of that word seemed obvious. Context was a wonderful thing. "Okay, ka means no."
There was suddenly a backhand flying at his face, and Daniel found himself again flat on his back on the ground. The meaning of that gesture was always quite obvious in context. "Right, I won't do that again."
Daniel was dragged to his feet, and off they went … again.
And now Daniel had soaked squishy shoes.
Wonderful!
They should put short-range transponder beacons in these gauntlets.
I don't need the whole army, just the cavalry.
Finally, about dusk, the Unas decided to take a break, leading them into a deep, dark cave … after retrieving a stick. What is he going to do with that? What is he going to do with that Goa'uld, too? The Unas had been carrying it, both parts, ever since the river, blood, guts, slimy body, and all. The answer to that latter question became clear shortly afterwards, once the Unas got a fire going. He speared the two ends on the stick and held it over the fire. Roast Goa'uld was on the menu. Better than roast Daniel.
Daniel sat as close to the fire as he dared, letting himself continue to dry out. His clothes almost steamed as the water evaporated. I feel disgusting. I need a shower … or maybe two. His head felt … slightly better … for now, and he wasn't feeling sick from his drink from the river … yet … at least.
The Unas slowly turned the make-shift spit. It was interesting that he wanted the meat cooked, though. (Daniel felt his stomach lurch at the thought of even having to eat roast Goa'uld. He had a chocolate bar in his pocket. The packaging was intact—he hoped—so they should have survived his impromptu swim. He had eaten plenty of strange food in his life, but he would rather go hungry than eat roast Goa'uld. Just no!)
"Is this your cave … your cave?" Daniel finally ventured to ask, making gestures to the surrounding stone walls and then pointing directly at the Unas.
The Unas stared at him for a moment and then turned back to the fire.
"It's nice," Daniel added before immediately kicking himself at the utter inanity of the comment.
The Goa'uld was now roasted to the Unas's satisfaction, and he removed it from the fire, tossing the head to Daniel. "Nan," he growled before taking a large bite out of the other half. I think I'll pass. Going hungry was preferable to eating this kind of meat. It didn't smell horrible. It didn't smell great either.
"Nan." What does 'nan' mean? Another word to decipher. That would be an interesting distraction from his hunger and the nauseating idea of having roast Goa'uld for dinner. "Nan is Goa'uld? It's err … a symbiote?" He tried to imitate that horrible sound the symbiote had made as it flew straight at him. "Food"? "Eat!"?
"Ka!" The Unas growled. No. "Nan," he repeated and took another large, crunchy bite, giving Daniel a look as he did so.
"'Eat,' nan is 'eat', of course!" I should have realized that. "But no, thanks." Daniel tossed the very crispy charred head back.
The Unas, however, picked the head right back up out of the dirt and tossed it right back. "Nan."
"Ka." Daniel tossed the head right back. The only thing worse than a crispy Goa'uld head was a dirt-covered, crispy Goa'uld head.
This repeated itself several times until both Daniel and the Unas began almost to laugh. Maybe tossing the Goa'uld head was a favored pastime. Sounds like one of Jack's ideas. On his last throw, Daniel accidentally on-purpose tossed the head into the fire.
"Oh, look out! In the fire, but …" Daniel slowly retrieved the chocolate bar from his pocket. "Nan."
"Ka."
Daniel wagged a finger and began ripping open the packaging. "Now don't say 'ka' until you've tried it!"
The Unas sniffed curiously at the unfamiliar smells, and Daniel repeated the new word for food he had just learned. He then took a bite of the chocolate, savoring the taste. "Mmmnnnn!"
Daniel extended the chocolate bar, and it was swiped from his hand. The Unas sniffed at it some more, then licked it, and then took a bite. He was trying to imitate the sound of pleasure Daniel had made. How very interesting.
"That's funny, I … met my father-in-law like this!"
The Unas seemed to find contemplating the depths of the fire very interesting, and though they did not seem to be moving on anymore that day, Daniel was too keyed up to sleep and not particularly enthused about letting down his guard here and now with only the Unas for company either. (If all else failed, he had his shield … if he didn't freeze up before he could bring it up.) The Unas had finally put the rope lead down. Daniel had no hope of making a run for it, but when there was no immediate growling when he stood, he decided to occupy himself by exploring the large cavern they were in. It was hard to tell at a distance without his glasses, but it looked like there were drawings or paintings on the wall.
Not a chance he wanted to pass up.
At least I still have my recorder.
"I'm in a cave. There are crude drawings, pictographs. The Unas seems to have a comprehension of Goa'uld symbiote species structure as well as their ability to blend." Daniel squinted to try to make the drawings a little less fuzzy. I wish I had my glasses.
Despite the situation he was in, this was so utterly fascinating. There was so much about the Unas they had not understood.
Chancing a glance at the Unas, Daniel went further into the cave system, examining more of the drawings. "Obviously, the Unas who were taken over must have figured out how to work the Stargate and left, but … why not all of them?"
His gaze focused on the Unas again and the bone necklace it was wearing, wrapped tightly around the vulnerable skin of its neck and throat. In that instance, a lightbulb clicked on in his head, a Eureka moment. "This Unas wears a strange bony neckpiece. At first, I thought it was purely ornamental, but now I suspect it must serve as some small safeguard to protect against symbiotes penetrating the neck."
Daniel went a few steps further, his mind spinning through the implications of that technological adaptation. "Some of the aboriginal Unas must have realized that their kind were being taken over and taken refuge in these caves!"
His gaze focused on drawings of Unas—what is the plural of Unas?—hunting captives, and he felt a sudden sinking feeling as he went further into the cave system. "This is a rite of passage. There are parallels in earth culture. For example, the Massai warriors of Africa kill lions in order to be recognized as adult warriors."
There was a slight noise from behind him and then a growl. Daniel spun around. The Unas was standing right behind him.
"I think I understand what it is you are doing!" Daniel exclaimed, gesturing back at the drawings.
Suddenly, a burning line of fire flared across Daniel's cheek as the Unas cut a long scratch across his cheek with one claw. It took all of his instincts to not bring up his shield. "Ka!" He shouted back. No.
There was enough cultural memory about the Goa'uld encoded here in these drawings. Would the Unas recognize a personal shield … shields like those in the Goa'uld hand devices? Could it make them think he was possessed? Daniel thought he remembered the way out of the cave system, but he did not want an army of Unas coming down on his head. Now I have gotten myself into a pickle …
The Unas let him go as suddenly as he had been grabbed.
"Keka?" Daniel asked. Death? Danger?
The Unas shoved Daniel away from the wall and its hunting scenes and smeared Daniel's blood upon the wall. There was a scratching noise, as if he were using his claw as an engraving tool. Then he stepped back, and Daniel saw the new scene: a large Unas, holding the foot of a captive sprawled upon the ground.
"I think I've just been marked for death!" He murmured.
There was time. He would rest tonight. Once they moved on, he would need to take any chance that presented itself to make a run for it and trust his shield to protect him.
Night passed slowly. Daniel rested as best he could by the warmth of the fire. The stone was very hard and cold. His head still ached some, and his stomach felt like it was trying to gnaw its way out of his abdomen. His mouth was dry with thirst. At least, so far, his sip of water from the river was not having any very unpleasant physical consequences.
There was an interesting interlude during the middle of the night after Daniel talked the Unas into letting him help with his injured hand. (It looked like a gunshot wound, though Daniel still could not remember what had happened that had led to his capture.) Daniel and the Unas, the galactic version of Androcles and the Lion. Does have a bit of a ring to it. As scientifically interesting as this 'kidnapping' was being … in some respects, Daniel just really, really wanted to go home. Would his helping the Unas engender a little sympathy?
Sometime the next morning, they continued … but not before Daniel had a chance to scrawl a note on the wall with a lump of charcoal from the fire. Now, if only they find this exact cave.
Instead of going back outside, the Unas just led them deeper and deeper and deeper into that same cave system. How big is this thing? Going to be an issue just getting out of here, even when I get free. How deep are we? Furling beacons worked underground, had to because of their underground bases and the Tok'ra tunnels in which they saw use. But how deep do they work?
(Daniel continued making marks on the walls wherever he could.)
They'll find me.
"This way," his message had read with an arrow pointing in the right direction.
Eventually, they reached an enormous cavern … obviously inhabited … by many others. There were several burning fires, and piles of goods were scattered here and there. Well, here goes nothing.
"Look, I know we've got the beginnings of a beautiful friendship here, but I'm not sure your folks are going to understand," Daniel snarked.
Suddenly there was an echoing growl from across the cavern, and like in very creepy horror movies, a looming black shadow projected against the wall of another tunnel entering the cavern approached closer … and closer … and closer. The Unas that appeared was not as large as his shadow but was still very large and very scary. Even his Unas was cowering, shrinking into himself in fear.
The alpha male approached, every stride bringing him closer, and Daniel resisted the urge to give ground. Suddenly, his Unas side-stepped in front of him. "Ka! Ka keka! Ka nan, tok! Cha'aka, ska nat, Cha'aka!" No. No death. No food. Something, something, something.
It was progress.
If only the Unas would drop the rope, then he could pull his shield up without the risk of it flaring visibly. If this encounter kept going the wrong way, he'd have to raise it … whatever the consequences.
Then, from the way they had come, SG1—Sam, Jack, and Teal'c, all appeared, weapons at the ready. Daniel felt his heart stop.
"Don't. Don't. Don't shoot," he shouted to his friends. Maybe there was a chance of getting out of this without bloodshed. (His cheek didn't count.)
The alpha male gave a blood-curdling roar that echoed off the cavern walls, and many more Unas appeared out of side-passageways, all moving as if they were primed and ready for a fight. Okay. Not good.
His Unas kept … pleading … with the alpha male. "Cho'ee'che!" I wish I knew what he's saying.
Daniel chanced a glance over his shoulder, momentarily taking his eyes off the greatest threat in the room. (Ragnar would probably kill him if he knew.) "This started out as some sort of rite of passage. I think the alpha male was expecting the younger one to offer me up for some kind of feast."
"Tok. Chaka, ka nan!" Something, something. No food.
"But I think the younger one's trying to bring me into his clan," Daniel added.
"Why?" Sam asked sharply.
"We've communicated," Daniel replied. "We're friends!" Of a sort. In a very Androcles and the Lion sort of way.
"Friends?!" Jack seemed, unsurprisingly, incredulous.
Suddenly, another Unas lunged forward, swinging a very massive club.
"Ka!" Daniel's Unas shouted.
SG1 swiveled to face the oncoming threat. Daniel shouted to stop them. "Don't. I think the younger one's trying to tell the clan that he's found something good for them." If they started shooting, any hope of this being resolved semi-peacefully would go out the window instantly.
"And they're buying that?" Jack asked, unconvinced. (Nobody was shooting, though.)
"No, I don't think so." He threw up his hands to protect his face instinctively as the alpha male came forward, hand with very long claws raised. (The rope was dropped, and up went his shield.) "Ka keka!" No death.
That got a very startled and immediate reaction out of the alpha male, who stopped in his tracks and backed up a step, obviously surprised. (His Unas edged back in front of him.)
"Daniel?" Jack asked.
"What did you just say?" Sam echoed.
"I think I just asked him not to kill me!"
Daniel's Unas was still pleading with the alpha male, who was having none of it, and was backhanded to the ground. The alpha male advanced on Daniel, who despite his personal shield instinctively ducked away. The cracks of P90's opening fire echoed ear-splittingly in the cavern, and the alpha male staggered back, green blood covering his chest. He was down but not out, however, and started to try to make another attack. Daniel's Unas, however, was back on his feet and lunged for the older male, instead. They exchanged blows for ten or fifteen seconds, the older male being driven back all the while, until they found themselves in a pool at the edge of the cave. The alpha male was overpowered and quickly drowned.
Now what?
Still standing beside the fallen leader, the young Unas gave a loud roar. The other Unas bent before him and then, after a few more growls, retreated back into the caverns.
"He just became the alpha male," Daniel said out loud.
The Unas approached Daniel. "Dan'el?" The name was heavily mangled, but immediately recognizable. He beckoned towards the cave depths. He wants me to come with him.
Daniel shook his head. "Ka. I have to go now. Thank you. Chaka."
The Unas growled softly and then turned away and departed, looking back before it disappeared, saying one final word. "Chaka."
"What'd that mean?" asked Jack, appearing at Daniel's shoulder.
"I have no idea," Daniel replied, "but I think I've just been invited to come back one day and find out."
Adrenaline was a wonderful thing in a pinch, but once it wore off, Daniel felt even more exhausted, worn down by the long walk, his concussion, and the lack of food and water. It was a very long walk back to the Stargate, especially after his friends explained all the details of the attack on the dig site and told him of Hawkins' death. Robert, at least, was okay. (He'd made the long run back to the gate from the dig site to give help but had strained his bad knee, which had kept him confined to the infirmary as much as he wanted to return and help search for Daniel). His friends were even more concerned after his lack of memory was revealed.
Daniel found himself confined to the infirmary for 48 hours after they returned to the SGC. The Furling healers could help with his two cracked ribs with a healing device, but his concussion, burgeoning upper respiratory infection, infected rope burns, and dehydration had to be handled the old-fashioned way, rest, fluids, and antibiotics. They wouldn't clear him to go back through the Stargate until some of his laundry list of issues were resolved. At least, they'll send a message to Sujanha to tell her I'll be late, and she'll get a message to Sha're.
SG1 bid him farewell while he was still in the infirmary. They were off to check on the newly relocated Enkarans on P5S-381.
[1] wiki/Archaeological_excavation.
[2] wiki/Wheeler_method.
[3] A/N: I'm not a doctor, nor do I have any medical training, nor do I play a doctor on TV. That being said, I'm not sure how Daniel could have reasonably escaped without a concussion. Chaka has probably never encountered humans directly before, so he wouldn't know about tempering his strength for human frailties. After getting hit over the head/hit in the head, Daniel would likely be more injured than he was in the episode.
