Chapter 14 - Glimpse of Trouble
The next time Sheppard went in, he learned exactly what was going on in the dark, seedy underbelly of the seemingly very religious and devout village.
….
Jackson opened the door to welcome the same guy who had been hissing at him during the morning torture.
"Thank those full of value. I was worried when you did not meet me," he declared the moment Jackson closed the door behind him.
"Yes. Sorry about that," Jackson mumbled, flustered.
"Why did you not meet me?" he demanded before turning to Vala, and by extension, Sheppard. "Why are you not sharing leaves with the Administrator's wife?"
"I…forgot?" Vala smiled charmingly to cover her lie.
"We are already suspected. We must not alter our behaviour." The man started to panic a little.
"Suspected of what?"
That didn't help to calm him down. "Harrid, what ails you? Did I not know better, I would fear you are trying to entrap me."
"No. I—I wouldn't dream of trying to…" Jackson tried to backtrack, confused.
"Entrap you? How?" Vala cocked her head to the side.
"Stop this, please!"
"Okay, you know what…Uh, please. Would you, would you sit?" Jackson waved a hand towards their dining table.
Jackson's expression told Sheppard that he was about to spill the beans to the villager. Vala gave a small nod, agreeing to go with it. Once Jackson and the villager took their seats at the table, Vala perched on the corner of its surface, behind Jackson.
"My name is Daniel Jackson, and I am inside the mind of Harrid. I am able to speak through him by use of a communication technology that we believe was first constructed and used by a race known as the Alterans."
"And I'm Vala…Mal Doran."
The guy was surprised. But not to the degree Sheppard would have expected someone from a very primitive setting would be. He was curious to see a wide, happy grin spread over the man's face instead of panic or horror.
"By the stars," the man exclaimed. "Forgive me, I am Fannis."
Sheppard finally learned the fellow's name. Now he could make his report to the General in a little more professional manner, at least, without fumbling around referring to him as 'that bearded guy'.
"Uh, nice to meet you," Jackson said, relieved. "We're from a place called Earth."
Fannis nodded, still smiling and politely requested if he could speak to his friend, Harrid.
"No. His consciousness appears to be suppressed so long as we're connected." Jackson explained apologetically.
"Harrid always suspected the stones were a means of communication," Fannis accepted his explanation without a fuss.
"You know about the stones?"
"We are curators, investigators of the past," Fannis proudly declared. "The stones were discovered some time ago in what we believe are the remains of an ancestral burial ground not far from here."
"Why are you hiding them?" Jackson asked the same thing Sheppard was wondering.
"Such an investigation is sacrilege."
That sounded a bit suspicious. Who would want to stop people from studying their own history? The answer that came to Sheppard's mind wasn't very comforting.
"You're not allowed to investigate your own history?"
Fannis' answer to Jackson's question was rather matter-of-fact. "If such investigation contradicts The Book of Origin–"
"You're heretics!" Jackson exclaimed, fascinated.
"We have uncovered evidence that we believe proves a race of humans predates our supposed creation by the Ori." Fannis nodded.
"Excuse me. Daniel," Vala decided to interrupt them with a valid point. "What if these gods, the Ori, are the people left behind by the Alterans?"
Jackson frowned. "You think they ascended?"
"It's possible. The Alterans left a long, long time ago, and what we know of the Ancients, they learned to evolve and ascend. What if the people who remained here did too?"
"That would make these people a subsequent evolution of humans," Jackson said, thoughtfully. "Which is apparently what happened in our galaxy after the Ancients we know ascended."
"And it would explain why they're not as advanced as we might expect."
"No, but the religion doesn't fit the profile," Jackson shook his head. "The ascended beings I know don't pose as gods. I mean, that's the one explicit rule they DO follow, is that they don't meddle in the affairs of the lower planes of existence."
Sheppard had information and first-hand experience to counter that argument. But, he had a feeling his case was a bit different… a loophole of a sort the Ancient had manipulated. Jackson did have a point, he had to admit, that these new Gods didn't really sound like the Ancient ascended. No. They were much more subtle when they bent and twisted their own rules, unlike this blatant, worship-whoring bunch.
"The Ori are not posing," Fannis insisted. "We do not doubt their power, just their word and intention. Their power is as real as the strength of belief in all followers." Then he turned his attention to Vala as if he just recalled something important.
"You were never there for leaves with the Administrator's wife. Sallis and she are acquaintances."
Vala looked at Jackson and Fannis. "So what should I do?"
"Can you not disconnect and allow Sallis to return?"
No can do, buddy, not, unless you can lead these two to the Anceinty comms on your side. Until then, we're all stuck in this merry little drama of yours, Sheppard griped.
"No, apparently we can't do that." Jackson sighed.
The look on Fannis' face wasn't all that encouraging when he murmured gravely, "Then you must pose as Sallis, and make amends for your absence on the morrow or we will be discovered."
"I can do that." Vala agreed cheerfully, without showing a hint of fear Sheppard knew she must have been feeling.
Isolation Area
Level 21
SGC
Late Evening
Sheppard looked exhausted when he opened his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. He blinked wearily a few times before squeezing them shut again with a long, pained groan. He pushed the back of his knuckle to the edge of his nose like he was trying to push back a headache. Mitchell handed him a glass of water from his bedside table when he finally opened his eyes again while a nurse moved to disconnect him from the monitors. Lam had dictated that Sheppard needed a solid eight hours off the device after this session before he went back in again.
"Thanks," Sheppard mumbled, taking the glass and finishing it with one, long gulp.
"No, problem," Mitchell said, rolling his own neck from side to side to get the kinks out.
He had been sitting on the hard metal chair for about two hours now, doing his best impression of Edward Cullen watching Bella Swan sleep. Then he cringed immediately away from the thought. He was still in deep denial that he had actually read those novels. He had filled that entire binge-reading episode under 'decisions made while impaired'. He really shouldn't have asked his teenage cousins to bring him reading materials during those never-ending days he spent at the hospital after his crash.
Anyway, he didn't have any complaints. His entire team was again scattered all over the place, two of them out of the freaking galaxy, even. It wasn't like he had anything else to do. He had settled next to Sheppard's bed to wait for the man to wake up because he wanted to keep an eye on him.
"How'd it go?" he asked when the nurse left, leaving Sheppard free of the leads that had him connected to monitors.
"Jackson and Vala have someone who knows what's what now," Mitchell had to lean in a little to understand Sheppard's muffled words as he rubbed his face roughly with a hand. "According to the bearded guy, his name's Fannis by the way, they are all a bunch of rebels, going about digging burial grounds for Ancient trinkets. Which is apparently a big no-no according to their gods."
"The Ori?"
"Yup, them."
"You know," Mitchell said, thinking. It sounded like the same history of the Earth all those years back during the crusades. "This sounds kinda familiar."
"I know." Sheppard agreed and slid off the bed to his feet. Mitchell got up from the chair and stayed close, just in case he needed help.
"Landry said not to bother if you don't have anything earth-shattering to report," he said. "So, if you're ready, we can go grab dinner and then finish off for the day."
"They stuck you on babysitting me?" Sheppard flashed him a tired, sideways smirk and started to walk slowly out of the area. Mitchell matched his pace easily, content to stick to his side.
"I volunteered."
Sheppard hummed. Mitchell noted the grin that came his way that time was genuinely pleased.
"So, what's happening there, now?" Mitchell asked, steering Sheppard towards the mess hall that was at the opposite end of the same corridor they were in. "Is Vala making dinner for Jackson, or has Jackson gone looking for the closest tavern?"
Sheppard shook his head. "Jackson found a book and Vala headed upstairs saying she was going to check out the bath. I got the hell out."
Mitchell laughed at his expression. "What?! You didn't wanna stick around for that?"
Sheppard's answer was a full-body shudder. Mitchell laughed harder and wrapped a hand around the man's shoulder to pull him closer as they strolled towards dinner. He was secretly pleased and relieved that Sheppard didn't flinch away from the touch.
"So, what else was going on?"
Sheppard filled him in all the way to the mess hall, telling him everything he had observed through Vala's point of view this time. This body-swap thing that happened to Sheppard whenever he connected felt too weird for Mitchell to even imagine.
"How are you feeling, John, really," he asked softly when Sheppard finally wound down as they entered the largely empty area. It was late enough that most of the people had already had their dinners and left.
"Drained," he admitted, yawning. "That thing takes a lot out of you even when you're doing nothing but sitting there."
"Regretting your supergene already?" Mitchell smirked.
"I just wish there was a way I could contact them," Sheppard mumbled, shrugging. "It's frustrating just being stuck there, forced to watch, but not being able to do anything–"
"You know, that's probably how the rest of the Ancients are feeling," Mitchell said as the thought kinda hit him from nowhere. "Jackson always goes on about how they are supposed to keep their noses out of our business. Must be hard for them to just do nothing while this mad bunch is running around prostrating people. Or at least, they should–"
His comment managed to summon a strange expression to Sheppard's pale face, one Mitchell couldn't quite decipher.
"Yeah, they do…" his words were so quiet, Mitchell almost didn't hear him.
"What?"
"Hey, look. Roast beef!" Sheppard pointed at the food with feigned enthusiasm and walked away to grab a plate.
A very un-subtle way to change a subject if there ever was one, Mitchell sighed.
What will it take to get you to talk to me, John… he wondered, not for the first time, as he followed.
