Simon Says

by Punny GEM

SG-1 steps through the Stargate...and into the heat of an unexpected battle. Jack is injured and enslaved, but when rescuers come, he raises the alarm. What would make him do that? Will the SGC send another rescue team to find out, or is he on his own?

4. Obedience

Keyna returned to the barn hours later, strolling alongside another man, taller and younger than he. Blenna was rosy-cheeked from the day in the hills, chatting animatedly about his beasts and their chances in the winter competition. The young man had sold everything three years ago to buy two beasts, an aging male who had been a solid performer in his prime, and an untried young female. He'd survived on the male's modest contest earnings and sales of two crops of cubs with unknown potential. The one cub he'd kept, a male from the first litter, was now of an age for his first competition. Blenna had high hopes; if the young beast performed well, he would bring in money as well as raise the value of his new young siblings. Blenna's business would take off. *If* the young beast did well.

He had the talent. But the beast also had a mercurial temperament. He was often aggressive to the point of vicious, even in the barn, but inexplicably would back off the kill when hunting. Blenna could hardly expect big sales of beasts that were only good for injuring their mayree handlers and letting prey escape at the last moment. In the barn, the presence of the mother beast settled him and made it possible to handle him. Blenna had borrowed Keyna's mayree as cub-sitter to see if the mother's beneficial influence extended to the hunt. It turned out to be an excellent idea; the younger beast had his best performance ever. In fact, his only major flaw had been backing off the kill. If Blenna could correct that by the time of the competition, his future would be assured.

"Thank you for this day, my friend, Keyna." Blenna tore his eyes from the mayra struggling to lead the promising young beast, glancing at his other mayra easily handling the more tractable parent animals before turning to Keyna.

"I am happy to have been of some small service," Keyna demurred appropriately, of course. Blenna was his friend, but that didn't mean he would give up the social advantage of being owed a favor.

In truth, Blenna had done Keyna the favor. That first horrific beating had changed his troublesome mayra. He'd progressed at an amazing rate in the days since. He was acutely aware of everything, and rarely made a mistake despite pressure from Keyna during the day and his fellow slaves at night. As he'd expected, the others ostracized him. They hit and spit and scolded him incessantly before finally allowing him to crawl behind the feces pile late at night to sleep. They had not, unfortunately, inflicted the level of injury Keyna had hoped for; minor enough for his mind to be clear but serious enough that he was unable to follow the command to accept a painful healing in silence. Every morning, the mayra managed to make it through without screaming. Today might finally be the day he broke, though. Keyna almost laughed with anticipation of what he expected to see in the barn after all these hours.

Rahi were born hunters and the little predators had probably been practicing their craft on their hapless victim all day. His Mayra would no doubt be exhausted from the aggravation -- and the sound, rahi cubs were notoriously yappy -- and that would make him easier to manipulate this evening. He congratulated himself on his ingenuity in breaking this new Mayra.

"If the cubs have done well, I would like to borrow your mayra again on other days. I would be happy to provide the healing herbs each time." As a beast merchant, he knew the cubs had likely done damage to the mayra as they entertained themselves.

"Of course," Keyna agreed happily. Gaining more favors in exchange for help breaking his challenging mayra was the perfect bargain. They agreed on several more days. Keyna couldn't let favors add up indefinitely, even for his poor but talented friend. He considered buying one of the cubs – another favor that Blenna would be sure to repay – and asking that its training be the payment for his mayra's cub-sitting services. He imagined himself using a friendly one as an example of obedience for his mayree or a mean one's care as a task for them. He wondered if he could do both – could Blenna train one to be obedient to Keyna and vicious to mayree?

Their pleasant conversation ended as they opened the barn door. It was suspiciously quiet inside. Exchanging a surprised look with Blenna, they both picked up their pace. Cursing under his breath, Keyna vowed severe punishment if his Mayra had killed the cubs. They were not champions or anything, but they did have value. More than one recalcitrant Mayra, that was for sure.

He strode to the end of the barn, grabbing the top edge of the stall, already drawing a breath to yell. What he saw stunned him to stillness.

"I don't believe it," Blenna breathed. Neither did Keyna, or the two handlers who had come to look after putting the male beasts into their kennels.

The Mayra was lying on his side in the straw, half curled, with cubs cuddled all around him for warmth. One lay in the curve above his foot, another in the crook behind his knees, one stretched along his back, and another at his belly. Two snuggled in his arms, and one more rested a proprietary muzzle on the mayra's neck. The eighth and smallest lay on top of the Mayra.

Eyes and ears twitched toward them, but the cold-blooded little beasts were loath to leave their warm berths to come to the wall. The Mayra didn't do even that much.

He was asleep.

oOo

Jack had wakened when the puppies around him all stirred at once. He lay, eyes still closed, breathing smoothly, trying to assess what was going on around him. He hoped it was nothing; he didn't want to leave. He'd had his best sleep in days here, cozy and warm, surrounded by his new friends. Who cared if they were homely?

On closer look, the creatures were efficiently built for hunting, if not for beauty. He wondered if they'd been engineered by the Goa'uld. They sported scales, not fur, like tiny armor-plating. Being covered with miniature shields was an advantage for a hunter. Their bulging eyes seemed to have tiny scales of their own, but not eyelids. When they slept -- or had straw thrown at them by a littermate -- their Mickey Mouse ears would flip down over their eyes with a little clapping sound. They had retractable claws, and had kneaded him with them like Earth cats would. They exuded a kind of oil that made them fragrant – ok, smelly – and kind of slippery, especially around the neck. All in all, they were ideal little predators.

He'd had plenty of time to notice details before he'd talked them into snuggling up for warmth. The little guys had personalities, too, like any pack animals would. He'd started to give them ranks to separate them, but that was a depressing reminder of the loss of his own position. He'd switched to mouse names instead. One was clearly the alpha male, with the others deferring to him. Jack named that one Mighty Mouse. Another pair hung out together and Mighty didn't like the others paying attention to them, so Jack assumed they were his girlfriends and called them Minnie and Millie. Four more spent their time play-fighting each other. Jack couldn't remember whether Tom or Jerry from the cartoon was the mouse, so he dubbed one Tom and another Jerry. Running low on famous Earth mice, he'd split the next name between the other pair, christening one Speedy and the other Gonzalez.

Mighty, true to form as leader, had insisted on sleeping with his muzzle on Jack's neck as a way to demonstrate his dominance, his body curled around Jack's warm head. Minnie and Millie curled in his arms, the only cubs to be fully encircled by warm mammal flesh. Short squabbles had sorted out positions for Speedy, Gonzalez, Tom, and Jerry, leaving just the smallest one hesitant and alone, driven off by his larger littermates. They expected the runt to die, and saw no particular purpose in delaying the event. Sympathizing with the abused and forlorn creature, Jack thought briefly of sharing his own name with it.

Instead, Jack called him Mickey, giving the most popular mouse's name to the least popular mouse-lizard-monkey-pup, and had suggested it lay on top of him. No one would argue for that post, which was the coldest of all. The little one had climbed up, happy to live that much longer, but still despairing over its obvious exclusion. Jack pointed out that Mickey had the best tactical position, even if it were colder.

He had described the importance of tactics, not sure how much was clear to the animals, but hoping he'd at least console the littlest one. They seemed to enjoy the sound of his voice, and most of them dozed off before he did. It had been the best time he'd had since his arrival on this planet and he held still, hoping it could go on.

A strange voice said "I don't believe it" and Jack knew the fun was over. He waited for a command.

The door opened and a husky shape slipped in. The mousketeers all leaped up at once, and Jack tensed when little claws dug in all over as they got traction to jump to what had to be their mother. The animal was big, like a mastiff dog on Earth. She sniffed him suspiciously, one eye watching him while the other rotated as if counting the babies. Jack waited to see what she would do to the stranger in her home. Keyna might be with the stranger who had spoken, so he didn't dare try to talk to her. The view from below the animal was daunting, to say the least. He felt like the guy in Jurassic Park, holding still in front of the Tyrannosaurus and hoping not to be eaten.

She sniffed her cubs next, apparently deciding they were unharmed, and lay in the straw. She opened her powerful jaws wide, revealing hunks of meat caught between the rows of teeth. The cubs dove for it, making an utterly disgusting show of digging gobbets out and eating them.

"Mayra, come!"

*That* voice he recognized. He stood promptly, taking care to move smoothly and quietly toward the door so as not to upset the mother beast. Her green-brown eyes swiveled after him, but she didn't move from her cubs as he left the stall.

Jack stood before Keyna, showing attention by looking at his chest, which rose and fell deeply with repressed anger. This was clearly not what Keyna had had in mind when he'd left Jack here. Jack tried to reassure himself that Keyna wouldn't punish him for the day's effort. He'd heard Keyna himself say that he did not inflict punishment without reason, if only because of the behavioral impact on the mayree. They might not behave at all if they felt they'd be punished whether they did or not. He'd only been ordered to keep the animals warm, and he had done that – could Keyna still find fault?

Keyna exchanged pleasantries with the other man before leading the way out of the building. "You did well, mayra. Blenna is pleased."

"Thank you, Keyna."

Keyna gave several more compliments as they walked. Jack duly thanked him each time, growing more relieved with every statement. It seemed that Keyna couldn't punish him, so he was taking the opposite route and giving some positive reinforcement for a change.

They reached the door of the compound. Keyna waved Jack toward the training room. "There will be punishment."

"But you said I did well!" As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake. The comment had not included the word "mayra" and he should not have responded to it. He'd been tricked.

Keyna's smile spread across his face, his good humor suddenly restored. "There will be punishment. Mayra."

oOo

Jack walked toward the mayree enclosure slowly, feet dragging, head hung low. He'd thought his punishment couldn't possibly get any worse. Leave it to Keyna to find a way. The reminder of it hung from Jack's neck, one of the long leather strips, its dangling end gaudily decorated with seared stones.

He was so miserable, he wanted to die. No, that wasn't strictly true. He wanted Keyna to die. Preferably in a way that would make the top of the locker-room worst-way-to-die list. He didn't even bother with pleasant fantasies of what he could do. Realistically, it would never happen.

Realistically.

Realistically, he should have given up as soon as his situation was clear.

In that one simple thought, he made up his mind. He would stop waiting for SG-1 or Morgan or Hammond or anyone else to attempt a rescue that was likely to fail anyway. Sometimes, you lose. Some of those sometimes, it was worth fighting until you found a way to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. And some of the time, it was better to give up.

The gate opened with its usual ominous groan. A group of men saw him, and started his way, no doubt intending to give meek Jack his first 'lesson' of the evening. Well, he wasn't going to accept petty abuse. Not tonight. He squared his shoulders, and looked them straight in the eye.

They hesitated, then stopped, talking quietly to each other, eyeing him but not approaching.

Jack shook his head in disgust. Cowards. They only wanted easy prey. He looked around. There were more new faces here than he realized; only he and Ronamo were still here from the group they came in with, and no one who pre-dated them. Everyone else was newer. He hadn't really noticed because the new ones had been quick to pick up the old timers' attitude towards him, and he hadn't cared whether old fists or new were hitting him when he wouldn't fight back for fear of Keyna's retribution. Now, he looked for a new person, someone who hadn't yet been broken.

He picked out a nice big man, who was scowling and talking angrily to the air, doubtless a brand new arrival who had not accepted his fate.

Slowly, being careful not to make too much noise, Jack walked around behind him. He pulled back his arm and walloped the big guy in the kidney as hard as he could.

As expected, it earned a howl of rage, and the man whirled.

"You're even uglier from the front!" Jack jeered.

"I'll kill you!" the man roared.

"Try it!" Jack yelled back, trying not to sound too encouraging. He spat on him for good measure, and the man pounced. Jack tried not to smile; his partner was motivated and probably capable, it should all be over soon. Jack twisted his head back and away, extending his neck to its fullest, making it easier to break.

oOo

Keyna paused outside the door, considering what to do. His watchers had followed their orders well, as always. They observed the enclosure each night, mostly noting the behavior of the inhabitants, but also monitoring for the special conditions Keyna set for certain mayree. In Jonamo's case, after that one severe beating, they were to stop physical altercations when his damage reached a certain level. After several frustrating nights of minor injuries, it had finally happened.

Jonamo lay beyond the door, awaiting his master's action. He had a damaged eye, which would be nicely sensitive to salt-laden healing compound. The enforcers had confirmed a broken arm – or perhaps they had broken it themselves to be certain – and Keyna could dig through the flesh to the bone itself for direct healing. Not really necessary, but very likely to elicit screams of pain. He always commanded the mayra to bear his healing in silence, hoping that the despair of being punished for crying out on top of the pain itself would break his spirit. Up till now, the mayra had managed to remain quiet. This time it should be impossible.

Keyna's thoughts were not where he expected them to be, on whether he should heal the internal injuries and the wrenched neck first, ramping up to the more intense efforts on his eye and arm, or to cause the greater pain first, and hope that the mayra would be so shaken that he would add punishments by continuing to scream as the lesser injuries were healed. Instead of debating the choice, he was considering the mayra's mental state. The mayra had tried to get another to kill him. Did that mean he had already broken, perhaps irretrievably? Should Keyna once again use the 'kind master' approach as a balance?

He decided against it. He'd spent far too much time already on this mayra. Most slaves were broken in a few days, and fully trained in a handful more. It was not only efficient for the trainer, it was better for a captive's mind to have the trauma of enslavement over with quickly and his new life as a mayra begun. Keyna would be doing the mayra a service to crush him today. He would order the mayra to silence, and punish him if he so much as moaned during his healing. The eye and arm would guarantee at least two corrections. When it was over, and the mayra had thanked him properly for restoring him, he would punish him for attempting suicide. Perhaps even a double punishment – one for trying to kill himself and another for attempting to steal his own value from Keyna. Yes, that would do nicely, he decided. It would reinforce that there was absolutely no way out other than utter submission to Keyna's will, and further the mayra's surrender. If he succeeded in killing himself later, then Keyna would just take the financial loss.

This might be the day, he thought cheerfully. Four punishments, with the chance of more, surely that would finally break him. Plus, his opponent still had the right and duty to do to Jonamo what Jonamo had done to him based on Keyna's earlier order about fighting other mayree. As a final bonus, Keyna's handlers would be angry at the mayra and find their own ways to add to his misery. They could not let it be known that they were watching, so Keyna gave them a mayree female each night to entertain the men not actively watching. If they had to enter the enclosure, they would do so on pretense of returning the girl, and would just "happen" to see the misbehavior. They had dutifully done so last night, but would not be at all pleased to have lost a night with a woman.

Keyna smiled. Yes, this could finally be the day. He reached for the door, then paused, schooling his features into a scowl. It would not do to walk in looking happy. His own role today was to be the vengeful lord.

oOo

Jack carefully held the six leashes in one hand as he opened the stall door. Tom and Mickey leapt hysterically, shouting their glee at the return of their littermates. Jack followed the cubs into the enclosure and closed the door. All eight cubs bounded and jumped and cried out to each other in excitement, making a comical picture as they were quickly entangled in the leashes. Jack went first to Minnie, who was half-suspended by her choke-chain leash as another had twisted her hind legs out from under her. He slipped a knee under her to support her weight as he unwound both leashes from her, listening to the others as he worked.

"We were outside!"

"We chased, we chased!"

"We bit!"

"Bite the thing that smells like laxila!" Jack didn't recognize that word but it was obviously the name of some scent the animals knew.

"Bite it! Bite it!"

"I found it!" one boasted, and others bragged of their accomplishments. It sounded a lot like a locker room after a team returned intact from an unexpected battle, reliving and retelling the events in detail.

"My turn, my turn!" Mickey yowled, using Jerry's back as a vault and trying to jump over the half door. Jerry snapped at him, narrowly missing a leg.

Jack went for Mighty next, suspecting the leader would take revenge on any other male given attention before him. The little beast scampered right over Jack's back and down the other side as soon as he was free. Jack grinned at the antics as he belted another leash around his own waist to keep it away from the little guys.

It was his fourth day with the animals, and he had taken the six larger cubs out to be the 'crowd' at their big brother Bruto's practice competition. If Blenna had wanted noise and confusion, then it had been a big success. The cubs had jumped and howled and run crazily about. Jack had managed to get them to run in the same direction as Bruto once or twice, which seemed to please Blenna. They had hunted a rubbery practice target, and Jack learned a new respect for the power of the animals' jaws as they half-destroyed it.

Jack, still following the pack's pecking order, was untangling Millie when Tarmo returned with the mother animal. He opened the door to let her join her cubs. The moment a crack appeared, Mickey zoomed through and straight for the barn door.

"Mayree, catch him," Blenna ordered tersely. Mickey may be the smallest, but he still represented future income. The three mayree obediently trotted out the door after the cub.

"There!" Carnamo called, pointing toward the woods. The others looked in time to see a shadow disappearing into the trees. They ran after him. If the cub got too far, he'd be really hard to find in the dappled light. They pursued him back down the path they'd used with the others earlier. Carnamo, who had the dubious honor of handling the vicious Bruto, thought Mickey was tracking his siblings' scent to see where they'd been. He cursed when Mickey suddenly darted off the trail to the left. They followed, arms raised to protect their faces as they plunged through the trees.

They would have run right past Mickey, half hidden under the low hanging branches of a tree, if he hadn't started squealing, a high pitched sound like a scream. Jack bent to look, one hand already reaching out. Mickey seemed to be tearing at a root, holding it tight in his teeth and whipping his whole body back and forth to dislodge it.

Suddenly there was another animal there, twisting up out of its hole and curling to snap at Mickey. Jack realized that the little Rahi had been pulling on the bigger animal's tail, not a root. He looked for a stick to help beat off the other creature. Tarmo was doing the same thing, all of them now under the tree. Carnamo was closest, just inches from the action, watching intently for a chance to grab Mickey without being bitten by either combatant. The animals were screaming at each other, wordless roars of anger and determination.

"There's only one!"

Jack glanced toward the other slaves before realizing he was hearing the badger-like animal's voice. The others didn't seem to pay attention to it.

"Only one! Get it from under! From under!" It stomped its front feet, then its back feet on the ground. "This way!" Jack realized it must be signaling its underground companions about where the enemy was, sort of like beavers and prairie dogs on Earth. It repeated the stomping sequence; front legs first then back legs, aiming them for Mickey, who still gripped his tail.

He hesitated, unsure why no one else was reacting to the obvious threat. There was a ripple in the bare ground under the tree and Jack shouted. "More of them! They're coming up from underground!" He jumped into the tree, one arm hugging the trunk to keep himself off the ground. Mickey did a little hop, reaching with his prehensile monkey tail and grabbing the branch. He pulled hard, and ended up dangling from it, his teeth still buried in the other animal's tail. Tarmo rolled away as the ground erupted, kicking furiously to dislodge an animal from his foot. Carnamo was suddenly in the center of a flurry of teeth and claws. He screamed and flailed as the badgers, believing him to be the one assailing their comrade, attacked.

Jack leapt away from the tree, diving onto a branch much too small to hold his weight. It broke, as he hoped it would, and he landed on it a few feet away. He picked it up and began striking at the animals.

Suddenly, there was a deeper battle cry. Even through the melee, it sent a chill through Jack. If fury had a sound of its own, this would be it. Something burly knocked Jack aside, and he jumped back for the safety of the tree. Bruto had joined the fray, and was quickly decimating the enemy force. Tarmo reached out a cautious hand to try to snag Carnamo's foot, scrambling away as sharp teeth appeared instantly at his fingertips.

A new battle cry echoed oddly, quickly answered by Bruto's own roar. His parents appeared, rushing into sight with another stereo scream, and joined the fight. Every sound intensified as the battle was joined. Even through the action, Jack marveled at how like a human battle this was, with war cries from both sides, calls to others to support or beware, shouts of pain…

Jack, mindful of what had almost happened to Tarmo, used his stick to try to push Carnamo away from the cloud of teeth, claws, and blood. The branch was snatched with a jerk so hard it felt like it would tear his arm out of its socket instead of just the wood from his hand. He shared a look with Tarmo across the carnage, and the other slave just shrugged, not knowing what else they could do.

"We have to do something!"

"No, Mayra!"

Jack was so startled by the sound from behind him that he nearly jumped back into the tree. He hadn't even realized Blenna was there, but of course he had to have been the one who released Bruto and then the other adults.

Blenna was watching the battle intently. "Kill, Bruto," he encouraged, "Kill!"

It went on for several more minutes, the badgers giving way and the mobile ones disappearing back under ground. The Rahi, still feeling the adrenaline rush from the fighting, ripped the bodies of the remaining badgers to shreds, whipping them around like rag dolls. Even little Mickey shook a badger leg like a trophy, his high-pitched growls trilling over the baritone snarls of his elders.

"Did he kill, Tarmo?"

Jack was stunned that the first question out of Blenna's mouth was about his beast's performance. Why wasn't he talking about Carnamo, and how to get him away from the animals still raging around him?

"I'm not certain, Master." Tarmo answered, his wary gaze remaining on the beasts, clearly concerned that they might turn on the humans if the bodies of their enemies did not appease them. "I believe he killed one that dared to go for his neck, but I cannot be sure."

"This may have been just what he needed, a full-out battle to whet his appetite." Blenna looked happily at Bruto, who was using his front teeth to tear at a now unidentifiable part of a badger. He gave the four beasts some time to enjoy their kill.

Jack chafed at the delay, but was afraid to speak. He caught Tarmo's eye, giving an exaggerated look at Carnamo, then back at Tarmo. Tarmo shook his head slightly, then went back to observing the beasts as they slowly began to calm.

"Take Bulleto, Tarmo."

Tarmo gave a command, and the father beast paused, a hunk of meat hanging grotesquely out of his mouth. Tarmo gave the command again. The beast, most experienced of the group, grudgingly dropped his prize and went to him. Tarmo took a moment to look him over.

"He has only minor wounds, Master." Tarmo reached for something, frowned, then wrapped one arm around the animals neck to hold him. Jack uncoiled one of the leashes from his waist and offered it. Tarmo accepted it gratefully, looping it around Bulleto's neck. Blenna held out a hand, and Tarmo gave him the end of the leash.

"Now the female."

Tarmo called to her. She was less experienced, having had few competitions before Blenna purchased her for breeding, and did not respond immediately. Tarmo called again with no results. He half-rose, crouching beneath the tree but getting his head above hers, and gave the command a third time in a rougher tone. She finally came to him, favoring one front leg.

He ordered her down, reinforcing who was in control, before kneeling beside her. "She has a serious gash in her side and minor injuries in addition to the leg, Master." Jack handed over a leash, and Tarmo applied it with a stern jerk, apparently continuing the reminder about dominance. He handed her leash to Blenna.

"The little one."

Tarmo hobbled around to the other side to avoid crossing in front of Bruto, who was snarling curses at the animal corpses in his mouth and all around. Tarmo gave the command, probably as a first bit of training for the youngster, then grabbed Mickey bodily and dragged him to Blenna. He expertly flipped him sideways and back, one arm across his jaw to hold the sharp little teeth away. "Face and forepaws," he reported. "Minor, but should be healed to prevent infection."

"Good. We may make something of you after all." Blenna patted the little beast fondly. "Give him to the Mayra."

Tarmo blinked, momentarily confused because there were three mayree present, but quickly realizing the yet-unnamed one was the obvious intent. He twisted around and handed Mickey over to Jack, swallowing and hiding a cringe as he looked back at the last and most difficult of the Rahi.

"Get Bruto."

"Yes, Master." He took a deep breath before half-standing again and giving the command to Bruto.

The beast ignored him.

Tarmo took a step closer, and gave the command again, the quiver in his voice ruining the stern tone. When he still got no response, he gave the command a third time and reached toward Bruto.

The beast lunged at his arm with a roar. Tarmo jerked his arm back but followed it up with a foot to Bruto's muzzle and another stern command. He kept the motion going, either on purpose or because his injured leg couldn't hold his weight on its own. He dropped down on top of Bruto as the beast pulled away from the kick, and pinned its neck to the ground. Bruto growled furiously and struggled to rise. Tarmo held fast, a terrified look on his face. If the beast did escape, it could quickly kill him.

They struggled for a minute or two until Bruto decided it was not worth it. He grunted, and lay still, glaring at his captor.

"Good, Tarmo," Blenna complimented. He turned to Jack. "Mayra, give him another leash."

Jack reached down to his waist before remembering there were no more. "There are no more, Blenna."

Blenna pursed his lips, thinking. "That will do, Mayra." He indicated the decorated leather strip dangling from Jack's own neck.

Jack froze, unsure of what to do. "I – I don't understand, Blenna."

"Give Tarmo the leash from your neck, Mayra."

"I, y-, er, n-, uh-" he stammered, almost babbling as he tried to figure out what to do. He could not refuse any command, so he needed to hand it over. But Keyna had ordered him never to remove it, so he couldn't. If he tried to explain, would he be punished for speaking without being asked a question? No matter what he did, he was at risk of being punished.

Tarmo, still nervously pinning Bruto, yelled. "Mayra, why do you hesitate?"

Jack was the lowest among the low, and had to answer to other mayree as well. He gave a grateful glance to Tarmo. "Keyna told me never to remove it, master Blenna, mayree Tarmo." He was careful to use names, adding the qualifiers in case Blenna didn't like being addressed along with a slave. "I don't know what to do."

"Give it to Tarmo, mayra," Blenna ordered. "You can have it back as soon as we get the beasts back in the barn. Keyna will understand."

Jack swallowed, and slowly passed it to Tarmo. He hoped Blenna was right, or better yet, that Keyna never found out about it.

Blenna straightened, and Tarmo followed suit, avoiding a vicious snap as he brought Bruto in line beside him. Blenna frowned at Carnamo, still motionless on the ground. He looked around, then sighed. "We'll have to come back for him, and hope the badgers don't get him first."

"Master?"

"What is it, Tarmo?"

Jack felt a ping of jealousy that Tarmo was listened to when he spoke. He hadn't even had to make the gestures to request permission. Jack had learned the hard way to hold out both hands, his left hand palm up to show he had something to offer with his right palm down to show submission, if he wished to speak. A social equal would use the same gesture, but with the dominant right hand palm up to show his offering had value and left palm down to offer the listener the courtesy of refusal. Both hands palm up was insistence to be heard, and earned a mayra like him severe repercussions for insolence. Both hands palm down was the request for mercy.

"Could I run back and get another leash, perhaps a stretcher, while you wait here with the rahi?"

Blenna considered. "I need you to help with the rahi. The mayra can go." He waved his permission.

Jack raced off, hoping Carnamo could hold on until he was given the healing ointment. He cleared the path in record time, and sped up in the open.

"Mayra!"

*Keyna! Oh, god, it was Keyna!* Jack reacted badly from the surprise and horror, his limbs jerking so hard that he sprawled on the ground. He stayed there, lying face down in the silty dirt, breath coming in short gasps that had nothing to do with his sprint. Keyna's feet quickly appeared in his peripheral vision.

"What – how – " The man was almost apoplectic with rage. "How dare you try to escape!"

He hadn't said the word 'mayra,' Jack didn't dare respond. He held as still as his pounding heart and rasping breath allowed, terrified of what would probably come next, listening carefully for any sentence that might allow him to speak and explain.

"You know what the penalty for this is!" Keyna voice was low and rough.

Jack held both hands out in front of him, palms down. He didn't dare even ask permission to speak; Keyna was too angry to listen. He could only hope he'd have a chance before the unthinkable penalty was carried out.

Tarmo appeared, topless and half-hopping on his injured leg, using his shirt as a makeshift sack to carry Mickey. Slightly behind him came Blenna, one eye watching the movement of his prized beast as it walked beside Tarmo, the other on the path ahead.

"My friend Keyna!" Blenna relaxed as he approached. "My heart is lightened by your presence."

"It pleases me to see you as well, my friend Blenna." Keyna inclined his head. "Though it gives me great shame to find my mayra fleeing your kind care. Will you wish to observe his correction, or trust to me that it will be appropriately severe?"

"I have no need to watch to be certain that my friend Keyna applies appropriate discipline," Blenna answered politely. On the ground, Jack's breath caught for a moment, but the others ignored him. "However, if you would indulge me by allowing a comment?" He held out his own hands as best he could while holding the leashes, right one palm up and left palm down.

"Of course." Keyna's answer was polite, but stilted, as if he expected unwelcome advice on mayree training or a remonstrance on his own abilities. He showed both his palms in a sweeping motion toward himself to indicate he would receive the other man's words.

"Thank you, my friend." He bowed his head now, and spread his hands in supplication. "If you will, please allow me to suggest that punishment may not be necessary at this time. I sent the mayra running to the barn for an additional leash while we waited in the woods." He chuckled now. "I heard his shriek and feared he'd been set upon by more badgers!" He glanced at Tarmo, swaying awkwardly as he tried to keep the weight off his bad foot, monitor the surly Bruto, and keep Mickey from escaping the shirt-sack. "We came as quickly as we could to save your property."

"My friend Blenna is kind to explain," Keyna said formally. "I shall take his words into consideration."

On the ground, Jack closed his eyes momentarily and let the relief wash through him. Keyna would probably find something to punish him for anyway, but at least it would not be the penalty for escape.

"My friend Keyna is very kind," Blenna responded, laying his palms over his own heart as if to treasure the memory. He smiled then, once again extending his hands. "Such a day we have had! May I share it with my friend Keyna?"

Keyna bowed his head in the less formal acknowledgement now that the unpleasantness over his mayra had ended. "I will be delighted to hear about my friend Blenna's experiences."

"May we walk as we speak?"

"Of course." Keyna waved at him to take the lead. "Mayra, up!" he snapped, his tone much less friendly.

"Yes, Keyna." Jack stood up.

"May I offer my lowly mayra to assist your more worthy one?" Keyna asked Blenna.

"My friend Keyna is most kind. Mayra, take the sack from Tarmo."

"Yes, Blenna." Jack stepped carefully around Bruto, jerking his hands back when the beast snapped at him anyway.

"Mayra!" Keyna's tone was clearly angry. "Take that sack!"

"Yes, Keyna." Jack snatched it away from Tarmo, narrowly avoiding Bruto's teeth. Inside, Mickey yelped and squirmed.

"I must humbly apologize – again – for this mayra's poor behavior. He shall of course be disciplined for his hesitation."

"I trust that my friend Keyna will address the issue to perfection."

Jack's head sank, knowing he had one correction coming for sure, and maybe more if Keyna could find any other fault with him. He hugged Mickey to him as he followed the others to the barn.

Blenna chattered happily away to Keyna about Bruto and the possible kill, and his hopes for the upcoming competition.

They entered the barn and Blenna sighed. "The happy talk must wait, there is work to be done. Tarmo, put Bruto in the first stall."

Tarmo did as he was ordered, handing the decorated leather strip to Jack when he returned. Blenna didn't notice, busy handing Tarmo the female's leash, but Keyna did. He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, and Jack was sure he'd get a correction for taking it off even though Keyna knew why. The father beast was put into a stall of his own as well, then Blenna told Jack to put little Mickey into a fourth unoccupied stall.

"My friend Keyna, may I keep your mayra for a while longer? There is much still to do: the healing ointment must be prepared, the animals healed, their stalls cleaned of their blood. Also, I have left a badly injured mayra in the woods. He must be retrieved, and healed if he still lives. I would be quite grateful."

Keyna smiled, glad that the social balance was moving in his favor again. "I am happy to offer his meager services to my friend Blenna."

"My friend Keyna is most gracious," Blenna covered his heart with his hands again. "Tarmo, prepare a batch of the healing herbs."

Tarmo hobbled off to begin, and Blenna turned to Keyna. "I regret that I must take leave of my kind and generous friend Keyna now. I shall use your mayra to retrieve mine while Tarmo prepares."

Keyna took his leave. Blenna armed himself in case they encountered badgers, waved Jack to follow him and headed for the door. Jack paused, reaching automatically for the stretcher by the door. It was very wide, no doubt intended for injured rahi.

Blenna frowned at him. "Leave that, mayra. Tarmo is busy, and you cannot carry both ends. Come."

They walked along, silent except for Blenna's quiet musings about Bruto's performance. The badgers had not returned, or at least Jack thought they hadn't. Carnamo was pretty torn up, but he was still in the same position as when they left. Jack, forewarned by the stretcher comment that moving Carnamo was up to him alone, bent to put his arms under Carnamo's shoulders. He could walk backwards, keeping the injured man's head up and dragging his body.

Jack paused, thinking. He was already headed for at least two corrections, one for pulling his hand from Bruto's teeth and another for removing the leash. If he tripped, would he incur a third? He decided not to risk it. The mayra was in bad shape, but unconscious. He would not feel any extra jolting. He turned so Carnamo was behind him, pulling the injured man's arms over his own shoulders far enough that their heads were near each other. Careful not to grunt, he pushed his way up to standing with the other man draped down his back.

"Come, mayra."

He followed Blenna down the trail again. By the time they reached the barn, Jack had his mouth wide open with the effort to breathe quietly – Keyna had been known to consider audible breathing a form of speaking without permission – and was staggering. It shouldn't have been as hard as it was, but he'd had so little physical challenge in his time here that he was already losing fitness. He wearily dropped to his knees and rolled Carnamo to the floor by the barn wall.

Tarmo was waiting, a large bowl of the healing mixture laid out alongside a pile of clean towels, a pitcher of water, and three small cups. Jack sincerely hoped one of them was for him to drink from.

He should know by now that slaves merited no consideration.

"Tarmo, bring Bulleto."

Jack tried to hide his surprise. Carnamo was injured far worse than any of the animals. Surely the beasts could hold out a while longer, even if only to save Blenna the cost of a new mayra if Carnamo died. Bulleto wasn't even the worst injured among the animals!

Tarmo retrieved Bulleto and ordered him to lie down on his side near the ointment, which he did, but with wary eyes on the humans. Blenna knelt next to the animal's back, the safest position. Across from him, Tarmo knelt, his knees brushing the strong paws. Blenna waved Jack to Bulleto's head.

Jack knelt, and Bulleto growled. Jack stiffened.

"Steady, mayra. If he attacks, grab his neck and hold it down on the ground."

"Yes, Blenna." Jack must have looked as incredulous as he felt. The last thing he wanted to do if the big beast attacked was get into closer quarters with its mouth.

"Mayra, if you let him up, I will punish you myself *and* inform Keyna!" Blenna warned. "Bulleto is very valuable and must not be traumatized by being chased around the barn."

"Yes, Blenna." Jack leaned forward, ready to dive onto the animal's neck if necessary, and tried not to think about what Bulleto could do to any reachable part of Jack if he did.

They used the cups to pour small amounts of water on Bulleto, clearing off blood and dirt to look for injuries, then drying with the towels so the cold blooded animal would not be chilled. There were scratches on his shoulder. Blenna gave him a satisfied pat, and healed the injury. They moved along down the animal's body.

Tarmo sat back to fill his cup, then leaned forward to pour it on Bulleto's armor-plated skin. Each time he leaned forward, Bulleto growled at him to stay away from his foot. Jack couldn't understand why they didn't just look at the feet first, but he'd earned enough punishments today and decided not to ask. The animal would be fully healed in minutes anyway.

Working systematically, they eventually reached the foot and found a cut in the folds of it. Tarmo healed it, and they moved on. When he leaned forward to clean the next area, Bulleto lay quietly. Blenna commented on it. "He has settled now. Perhaps he had been growling at your nearness to his injured foot, Tarmo."

Tarmo rocked back and forth a few times to test the theory. Bulleto ignored him. "Master has wisely determined the truth."

Jack was puzzled by the exchange. Hadn't they heard Bulleto warning them about the foot all along? They didn't understand the animals' speech, he realized abruptly. It explained this, and also why no one else reacted to the badger calling its friends up from below. No one else had reacted to the badger, not even Mickey. Was it possible that he, Jack, was understanding all the animals and no one else here understood any other species? How could that be?

It was the gate. On their very first mission to Abydos, they hadn't spoken the locals' language. Daniel had had to learn their dialect and translate for everyone. Nowadays, they could walk through the gate to any planet and understand the inhabitants. Carter said it was because they had studied DHDs and enabled some auto-something or other in the SGC's gate. He hadn't understood the details, whether the gate was actively doing something while they were there or if it did something to the brains of the travelers. The net effect, though, was a kind of automatic translation. Any shared concept, like walking or eating, was just understood with no effort or translation on either side. Only words for things one of the two cultures hadn't experienced had to be explained. Here, for instance, 'cub' was automatically understood as a baby animal but 'rahi' was a new word to Jack because Earth had no concept of lizard-mice-monkey-dogs. It was also why they couldn't always understand the Goa'uld language – humans had no true concept of slithering or taking over another being's body or other things common to the snakes. He wondered why there weren't more animals on the Goa'uld controlled planets – sharing words would seemingly make them fantastic hunting and work partners. Could it be that even animals would turn on the Goa'uld once they understood the snakes' cruel intentions?

He brought his thoughts back to the present as Tarmo ordered Bulleto back to his feet. Jack was relieved to see that he was put into his "home" stall instead of the one he had waited in. Cleaning the blood in the original stall wouldn't have to be done around him.

The female beast was brought out next. Jack wondered if there was a pecking order Blenna was following, the way Jack interacted with Mighty first then the females then the other males in order of size. They worked on her side first, Blenna worriedly noting how deep the wound was, and how close to her womb. Great care was taken to clean and heal it thoroughly. When they repaired her leg, she gave a great sigh of relief and relaxed, big round ears falling slowly down over her eyes. By the time they had inspected the rest of her, and healed the remaining minor injuries, she was asleep.

Blenna patted her fondly, and told Tarmo to feed her the moment she was in her stall. If she went straight back to sleep, so be it, but it would be better if she ate first.

Tarmo gently woke her, speaking softly and stroking her flank. One ear rose halfway as she peeked at him, then it sagged back down. He chuckled, and continued to speak and stroke. The ear eventually came back up, and stayed up as he tugged on her leash. She got to her feet with a tired groan and followed him back to her cubs. Tarmo paused on the way to take a great scoop of some sort of kibble. He showed it to her to get her interest, then balanced it as he opened the stall door and let her in. The cubs went wild, of course, yapping and jumping. Tarmo returned to report that the female was fully awake, largely due to the noise of her family, and eating.

It was Bruto's turn next. Tarmo paused at the stall door, taking a breath to steady himself before entering. There was the sound of scuffling before he finally emerged with the growling beast in tow. It seemed Tarmo was gaining some confidence; there was less of a quaver in his voice as he ordered Bruto to lie down. Or maybe he realized that for this healing at least, Carnamo's injury had upgraded Tarmo to the position by the claws instead of the jaws.

Jack knelt by the animal's head, and was welcomed by a vicious snarl. The lip stayed curled, accompanied by a continuous growl like a buzz saw. There were no words, just the warning rumble.

Blenna observed him dispassionately. "His head seems to be in good shape. We'll start with the body first. Mayra," he waited for Jack to look him in the chest. "Bruto does not like the healing process, and must be pinned. When I give the word, you lie down across his head and stay there while we check his body. Do you understand, mayra?"

Jack was staring at the huge angry head and the array of long sharp teeth. He was supposed to lie down on that? "Y-yes, Blenna." He reminded himself that Blenna would heal Jack's probably-soon-to-be-shredded body, and it was still better than being punished by Keyna.

"Down, mayra."

Jack dove down, instinctively scrunching up his face as he saw Bruto's head start to move, though the teeth would land in Jack's belly not his face. The long fang that hung below Bruto's jaw dug into Jack's flank, but Jack landed on him before the rest of the teeth could dig in. He could feel Bruto sawing away at his belly, trying to get hold with his other teeth as well.

"Good, mayra. Hold your position."

"Yes, Blenna," Jack managed to gasp out, trying not to focus on the fang that impaled him and how it twisted as Bruto continued his efforts. He clenched one fist, lifting it a few inches and dropping it repeatedly as a different center for his attention.

Blenna took his time, as with the other animals, moving slowly from tail to neck. He was pleased to see a cut on Bruto's throat that supported Tarmo's story about one of the badgers and the potential first kill. He patted Bruto after he healed it.

"Mayra, when I give the word, roll over so that your body is on Bruto's neck and his head becomes visible. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Blenna." Jack gritted his teeth, preparing to obey. It would hurt to roll over and yank that fang out, but at least the huge tooth would *be* out.

"Roll over, mayra."

Jack did as he was ordered, getting it over with quickly, but was unable to prevent a grunt from escaping him. He lay on his back now, anxiously waiting to hear whether that counted as speaking without permission.

Blenna glanced over at him, noting the puncture on his flank, but said only. "Use your arm to keep his neck down, mayra."

Jack obediently moved his left arm out and pushed as hard as he could from the awkward position.

Bruto snarled and jerked as cuts on his face and lips were healed.

"Good, Bruto, good," Blenna crooned to the beast, patting him. "I know it's hard for you, my strong one, I know."

*Hard on Bruto?* Jack risked a glance at Tarmo, who had been rocking back and forth on his gouged ankle all this time, not to mention hobbling around between stalls. His jaws were clenched against his own pain, but his attention remained on the dangerous animal in front of him.

"Up, mayra."

Jack sat up as quickly as he could, able to suppress a groan this time. Blenna waved at Tarmo and the slave rose and led Bruto to his usual stall.

"Feed our brave boys, Tarmo."

Tarmo gave the adult males each a large scoop of the kibble, and Jack could hear them crunching away as Mickey was brought out.

In the thrill of being outside, and fighting, the little beast had hardly noticed his own injuries. Now, the excitement had worn off, and he found himself alone and in pain. He practically threw himself at Tarmo when he saw his face over the half-door, howling for his mother.

Tarmo, unfortunately, did not understand. He stilled, hand on the latch, calling out, "Master?"

"Yes, Tarmo."

"The little one wishes to attack. What shall I do?"

Blenna considered before answering. "His memory of today should be of conquering badgers, not mayree." Jack lowered his head to hide his shock – the rahi were allowed to attack their handlers as practice? He'd heard Blenna say that hunters' ferocity should not be blunted, but this was still hard to believe. "Give him some meat and see if he settles."

"Yes, Master."

Tarmo stepped away, returning with some small chunks of meat to offer Mickey.

It took a moment before Mickey noticed the smell of the meat over his eagerness to go home to his mother. Tarmo opened the door and quickly grabbed him while he was gulping it down.

He set Mickey down, and the little animal tried to scramble up and run to its home stall, but Tarmo pushed him back down. They started at his tail and moved forward, letting him get used to the pattern of pour, wipe, heal. One of the many cuts on his muzzle had slashed his lip from just behind the fang toward his eye, and a matching one on his ear showed where it had clapped down and saved the eye from the end of the swipe. Blenna paused thoughtfully, then healed the ear. He repaired most of the other cuts before returning to the torn lip.

"Mayra, take hold of him."

Jack glanced at Tarmo, who shrugged and extended his arms, giving Jack room to grab the little animal. When Jack had him, Tarmo let go and turned to Blenna for further instruction.

"I'll hold his lip, and you heal it when I give the word, Tarmo."

"Yes, Master."

Blenna took a moment, pulling the lip one way and another as Mickey whimpered. In the absence of his mother, the baby animal cried out to Jack, who had brought warmth and comfort other times, begging him to make it stop. Jack half-closed his eyes and wished he could close his ears. He was powerless to help himself, let alone Mickey.

Blenna finally stopped, holding the two sides unevenly, and ordered Tarmo to apply the healing gel.

Jack watched as the cut healed in a wavy line. The upper lip was pulled back and up, and the tip of a tooth could just be seen.

Blenna pursed his lips as he judged his work. "Does he look like he's snarling, Tarmo? Or does it look artificial? We could adjust it…"

Tarmo knew better than to offer solid opinions on anything. "I am not sure, Master. Perhaps if you viewed him while he is standing, you could better determine."

"Good thinking, Tarmo. Mayra, let him up, but keep hold."

Jack eased the pressure on Mickey, and he sprang up, trying to twist away and run for his mother and the home stall. Jack blocked him, and the cub whirled, ready to try another route. He turned back again when he saw Blenna, who had brought the pain, and Jack thought for a moment that Mickey would leap into Jack's arms for protection. He decided he could help in one little way.

Jack switched his grip to Mickey's torso and forced him around to face Blenna. He angled his fingers up under Mickey and squeezed hard enough to annoy the little beast. Mickey kept his eyes on the feared Blenna, as any terrified creature would, but his whimper of fear rose to a growl.

Blenna moved his hand from one side to the other, and Mickey's head automatically followed it, giving a view of both sides of his face. Blenna was satisfied with the permanent scowl, and told Jack to return Mickey to his mother.

Jack rose, and Mickey squirmed anxiously for freedom. He'd been carried once, and left in an empty stall, then carried again to a place where they hurt him. He struggled more with each step. When he thought they were far enough away from Blenna and Tarmo, Jack leaned his head down and breathed "We're going to Mommy now." Mickey yelled for joy, and Jack jerked his head up to avoid a sloppy tongue of thanks. He patted the little animal, and picked up the pace.

Jack leaned over the half-door and lowered Mickey to the floor. Halfway down, Mickey sprang away and raced for his mother.

Jack turned back to find Blenna scowling at him. What had he done wrong? Did the others actually understand the rahi after all, and not want them to be comforted? Was it because he saw a master's face when he turned? He hadn't meant to, he was just looking where he was going, and from the distance the view had included the man. He walked quickly back, not wanting to worsen things by appearing to dawdle.

"Mayra." Blenna's voice confirmed his displeasure.

Tarmo busied himself with the rags and ointment. Jack hadn't expected the other slave to intervene, but a hint about what was wrong would have been nice.

"Yes, Blenna."

Blenna took a deep breath and released it slowly, apparently trying to calm himself. "Mayra, these are valuable animals. They must not have their ferocity blunted."

"Y-, er, n-, uh," Jack spluttered for a moment, the first comment required a positive answer and the other a negative one. "I understand, Blenna."

"Do you, Mayra? Do you?"

"I understand your words, Blenna," Jack said slowly. He didn't dare ask what he had done wrong; if the same rules applied here as with Keyna, he'd be set up for repeats until he figured it out. "I am new to working with the rahi, Blenna, and I don't yet know the best ways to interact with them." He held out both hands, palms down, asking for mercy.

Blenna considered, then sighed. "You are new, and you aren't even mine. However," his voice hardened. "Learn this, and learn it well, mayra. The rahi must not have their ferocity blunted. If a cub attacks, it must be successful!" He came very close to Jack, his voice very stern. "I saw you pull your face from that cub's mouth as you walked to the stall. You made his attack fail!"

"I'm sorry, Blenna."

"If it happens again, mayra, there will be severe punishment."

"Yes, Blenna."

Blenna turned away from him. "Mayree, bring Carnamo."

Jack and Tarmo carried Carnamo over as gently as they could. They started with his head, Tarmo sloshing water over it to reveal wounds on his face and scalp. Carnamo began to rouse, but Blenna ignored him, calmly applying the healing gel. The injured man moaned and rocked his head. Blenna moved his hand along with him.

Tarmo splashed water on the neck next, not being as slow or cautious as he had been with the rahi, and Carnamo jerked at the sudden touch.

"Very close to the jugular," Blenna commented idly. "Another inch and I would need a new mayra." He smeared the wound thickly, then set the bowl down and drew a sharp knife from his belt, using it to slice away Carnamo's torn shirt. It was hard for a badger or rahi to open its mouth wide enough to bite a man's chest, and the cuts there were correspondingly shallower, and quickly healed. Arms were easier targets, and the wounds there were deep.

Jack shuddered when Blenna placed what remained of Carnamo's left hand on the injured man's belly. Tarmo sloshed water on it, more gently this time, but if anything it looked worse without the blanket of blood. The healing gel was powerful, but could it fix *that*?

Blenna instructed Tarmo to take hold of the first finger bone and pull it straight. When he did, Carnamo reacted violently, starting up to a half sitting position with a scream.

Blenna grabbed him by the hair, their faces inches apart. "Down, Carnamo! Down!"

It took a moment for the confused and agonized slave to calm.

"Down, Carnamo." Blenna repeated.

"Master," Carnamo whispered, face white, whole body trembling.

"Down, Carnamo, and hold," Blenna repeated firmly.

Carnamo slumped backward, teeth gritted. Jack moved to hold his shoulders, but Blenna ordered him back. "It is good for a mayra to hold still through pain when ordered to do so. It reinforces obedience."

Jack said nothing. The word 'mayra' had been in the sentence, but not to identify him, so he was not supposed to respond.

Blenna chuckled to himself. "I would have thought Keyna taught all his trainees that. Apparently, our esteemed mayree handler is gentler than he would have us believe. I may have to tease him about this!" He didn't see Jack blanch at the thought of what Keyna might do if someone told him he was overly soft on his slaves. "Tarmo, adjust the first finger."

Tarmo did it, and Carnamo screamed again, arching his back but not sitting up. Blenna healed it, then ordered Tarmo on to the next, and the next. He took his time, fixing one finger at a time, then the palm. "You did well, Carnamo," Blenna told him when the hand was finished and the slave slumped, gasping, on the floor.

"Thank you, master," Carnamo panted.

"You are welcome, Carnamo." Blenna was still smiling down at Carnamo as he said, "Next hand, Tarmo."

The second hand was in as bad a shape as the first, Carnamo having instinctively used them in a vain attempt to protect himself. After that, the rest of the healing was easier and easier. By the time Blenna was healing his toes, Carnamo was exhausted but calm, and thanked his master again.

"You are welcome, Carnamo. Master values you. Rest a moment." He patted Carnamo the same way he had patted the rahi when they were finished. "Tarmo."

"Yes, master."

"Your foot, Tarmo."

Tarmo happily switched off his knees, which was the better position to move around and help with the healings, to sit on his rear and extend his foot. It had been hours now, and there was just a mass of blood from mid-calf all the way down. "Remove the foot-covering, Tarmo."

Tarmo bent to unwind wrappings that covered his shin and foot. He set the shredded item aside. Jack leaned a bit closer, surprised that it looked like rahi hide.

Blenna noticed. "Amazing, isn't it?" he commented. "Rahi hide is practically impervious to the knife," he slammed his dagger down on a piece of it and it slid off, leaving barely a scratch, "but badger teeth can still cut right through." He used the blade to lift the skin. Light showed clearly through a myriad of slashes. He dropped it with a chuckle. "Imagine, Tarmo, what your foot would look like if master hadn't allowed you such boots."

Tarmo shivered, looking at the bloody mess that had been made through the tough material. "Master is exceedingly kind to me."

"Master values you, Tarmo." He poured water over the limb and began to apply the gel. Tarmo closed his eyes in relief as the pain receded.

"Mayra."

"Yes, Blenna." Hopefully, it was his turn. The pain in his belly stabbed as though the fang was still in it.

Blenna had him remove his shirt and lie down, splashing water over the wounded flank. Jack clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Except for one confused memory of a kind Keyna healing him – or perhaps that was a dream, kindness and Keyna just did not go together – the gel had always been agony to Jack even when it was pleasure to others. Blenna frowned at him, and Jack tried to rearrange his features to a blank expression. Would it anger Blenna if he showed tension at impending pain?

Blenna's hand moved, and Jack held his breath, determined not to cry out. Blenna had not punished Carnamo for screaming his guts out, but it was possible that Keyna's rule of silence would still be enforced for Jack. He felt a finger on his belly, and the feeling was intense. It took a moment to realize that what he was feeling was simple relief, washing over him like a wave. He slumped, and let his breath out.

Blenna was frowning again. "Are you alright, Mayra?"

"Yes, Blenna. Thank you for the healing, Blenna."

"You are welcome, mayra." Blenna was still frowning. "Your hands, mayra."

Jack held them out, palms down, used to asking for mercy, though not expecting to get any. He thought frantically of what he could have done wrong now. He did not expect to be so lucky as to have Blenna explain two errors to him.

There was a pause, and Jack was startled when Blenna rubbed one of his hands gently. He realized he had cuts and scratches on them. They were so minor, he had barely noticed during the other events of the day. Apparently, he had some on his face and neck as well, since Blenna moved on to those next.

Blenna rose. "Tarmo, mayra, clean up." Blenna went to wash his hands.

Jack followed Tarmo's example and used towels to mop up blood from the floor. Carnamo, not having been told otherwise, continued to enjoy a rest. He obligingly shifted over so they could clean where he had lain. When the floor was clean, Tarmo piled all the towels in Jack's arms, then took the bowl of herbs and waved to Jack to follow him. There was a sink in a corner of the barn. Tarmo pointed to the floor and Jack dropped the towels.

"Hold, Tarmo."

Hands already over the sink, bowl near the tap, Tarmo froze, waiting to hear his master's instructions.

Blenna walked over, looking at Jack thoughtfully, as though trying to figure something out. "Mayra, take the bowl."

Jack took it, careful not to look curious or worried. From the chest down, Blenna did not look angry. Jack wished he was allowed to look at the man's face to get a better idea of his mood, but reminded himself that that was a sure way to punishment. Besides, Keyna did not have to be angry to be cruel so there was no reason to think Blenna did.

"Eat some, mayra." Blenna waved a hand at the bowl.

Jack was surprised. He looked into the bowl, the thick gel tinted pinkish purple with human and rahi blood. There was no utensil, so he put the bowl in one palm and scooped some of the goo up with his other hand. He put it in his mouth, a coppery taste adding to the usual tart-sweet combination. He swallowed it and took some more.

Blenna stopped him at three helpings, and told them to continue cleaning up. Tarmo washed the bowl and set it aside, then bent for the first of the towels. Blenna watched him show Jack how to soap and rinse them, then hang them on a rack near the wall. "Mayra, do you understand how to wash the towels?"

"Yes, Blenna." Jack would be happy to get a simple assignment like this. Gory it might be, but it was also hard to do it wrong.

"Tarmo, go to the house and bring me some food. Mayra, continue cleaning."

Tarmo headed off, and Blenna pulled up a chair and silently watched Jack do the washing. He was careful to get every towel clean in case Blenna's intent was to punish him for stains. Tarmo returned with hot food for Blenna, kneeling beside the chair to serve him. The savory scent made Jack's mouth water, but he knew he wouldn't be getting any of it. He kept on washing, deliberately leaning closer so that the soap odor would cover the food smell.

When Blenna finished eating, Tarmo helped Jack finish the towels. Down the hall, Carnamo had fallen asleep and was snoring gently. The rahi were quiet, and the only other sound was the splash of water in the sink.

Finally the last towel was clean, the entire wall lined with them. Water dripped from them into a narrow channel next to the wall, and flowed out to a small garden next to the outside door.

"Now the stalls, mayree."

Tarmo went to the stall Bulleto had been in before his healing, and Jack followed. Tarmo bent and scooped up some of the straw on the floor, carrying it out of the stall. Jack grabbed a load of it and went with him. In the center of the barn was a sort of a stove. Tarmo held his straw between his neck and one hand, and used the other to open a small door. He stuffed the straw into the opening, and it slid down a chute into the stove. There was a whoosh as it caught fire, and a warm breeze from above. Jack glanced up, seeing the overhead vent. It was pretty ingenious, really. The stove was enclosed to prevent the straw in the barn from catching fire, but blew down warm air in addition to radiating heat from its hot body.

Jack shoved his load into the chute, and felt the answering puff of warm air. They both returned to get more, making trips until all four of the pre-healing stalls were empty of straw. Tarmo led him back to the sink, and took two wet towels down, then filled a nearby bucket with soap and water. They scrubbed the floors in each stall, along with any spots they found on the walls, then washed the bucket and finally the towels. Jack hung them back where they had come from.

"At last," Blenna said with a yawn. "Mayra, come." He stood, and took a short length of chain from a hook on the wall.

Jack wondered what was next as he walked over. Blenna led him to another stall. There was a narrow trough on each wall at about knee height, and two long piles of straw. Blenna took him to one wall, where the floor was clear, and just behind one of the troughs.

"Down, mayra."

Jack wasn't sure whether to sit or lay, so he knelt, ready to do whatever he was told next, and wondering if Blenna was going to beat him with the chain. The man crouched, looping the chain around Jack's neck. He slipped one end of the chain through a link in the other end, then rapped the wall smartly next to the trough. Two vertical panels flipped open to reveal a narrow vertical pole crossing with a horizontal one that probably supported the troughs. He clipped the end of the chain to the vertical pole, just below where the horizontal one joined it. Blenna pushed the boards closed again, the chain snaking through the gap between them, and stood to clip the boards together at head height.

Jack was effectively held to the wall. The chain held him to the pole, and the boards kept him away from it. The slip collar was tight enough that he could not get his head out of it. He could move up and down, from the floor to a couple feet up, which would allow him to lay or sit against the wall but not reach the latch that held the wall closed. It was probably built to hold rahi, but would work just as well on a human.

"Tarmo."

The slave appeared at his shoulder. "Yes, master."

"Get Carnamo, and three skees."

"Yes, master."

Three skees? What were those? What were Blenna, Tarmo, and Carnamo going to do to him?

The mayree returned, carrying tall ovals with spiky looking things on top. They showed them to Blenna, and at his nod, upended one over each of three of the troughs. Kibble poured out of the smooth side of the ovals, which were then clipped on the side of the trough with the spiky things down.

Blenna stepped out and closed the door behind him. Apparently Jack was staying the night.

Tarmo and Carnamo sat down and helped themselves to two of the troughs, taking long draughts of liquid through the spiky things before moving on to the kibble. After a moment, Tarmo paused. "Eat, mayra." He waved at the trough in front of Jack.

Jack shook his head.

"Don't expect anything better," Tarmo warned. "We're lucky to get food worthy of a rahi."

Jack shrugged. Keyna had rules about eating, and he was not sure if he would explain even if he could.

"Master allows us to talk here, mayra." Tarmo looked at Carnamo, as if expecting him to say something.

Carnamo shrugged, bolted his food, and lay down on one of the long piles of straw.

"He's usually more talkative, but it has been a long day for him." Tarmo looked over to Jack. "You really should eat."

Jack shook his head.

Tarmo shrugged and returned to his own food.

Jack let him eat before speaking. "Tarmo?"

"What?"

Jack was burning to ask the big question, but he thought it best to start small. A basic question about the animals. "If the rahi are allowed to attack mayree, why don't the adults just kill us?"

Tarmo shrugged. "Cubs will attack mayree, but as they grow up, they get bored with anything that doesn't fight back. Plus, the master gives them more exciting prey when they are ready for a challenge."

That was a dubious comfort. Let the little ones attack with their four-inch fangs, and by the time they were adults they wouldn't be interested in digging their seven-inch fangs into you. "Great," he said with irony, and Tarmo chuckled.

"Have you been working with the rahi for long?"

"Three years. Master bought me at the same time as Bulleto and Rito."

Jack was amazed at the casual tone, as if the man had been an item on a shopping list. From his perspective, he probably was.

"If Bruto does well, maybe master will buy you, too. He likes how you handle the cubs."

"I would like that," Jack said. He couldn't wait any longer. He had to ask. "Tarmo, what's my name?"

Tarmo looked at him like he was an idiot or something. "Mayra."

Jack wasn't sure if it was an answer or a rebuke or a question. Or if this was all a trick and he'd be punished for speaking after all. He had to take the risk; he had to know. The day after he'd tried to get the other mayra to kill him, Keyna had punished him over and over. For screaming when the burning liquid was poured in his injured eye socket, and again when the knife dug down to his broken arm bone, bringing more fiery agony with it. For trying to die. For trying to steal his own value from Keyna. It had been horrible, one of the worst days of his life. By the end, he'd been willing to try anything to make it end. He'd pretended to break, or maybe he had broken. There was a fine line between being pushed to the brink or over the edge. When Keyna gave him the opportunity to speak, he had begged forgiveness, pleaded for mercy, sworn to do anything and everything Keyna ever said for his entire life. He told himself it was just pretend, giving his captor the words he demanded, and hoped he meant it.

Keyna had believed him. Jack had had a brief shining moment of hope that he'd finally appeased his captor. Until Keyna asked him his name. Jack obediently replied that he had no name, only 'mayra.' Keyna asked him his true name, the one that would be his when he was trained. It was a basic question, but he'd almost collapsed with fear from it. When he had been first captured, they'd asked him his name. He'd answered honestly, and it had enraged them. They asked again and again, doing worse and worse things as he tried desperately to find an answer they would accept. Name, rank, and serial number. Name and rank. Rank. Every variation on his name he could think of. He'd even tried Daniel's name, and Teal'c's, and the General's. He vaguely remembered sobbing his own name between interminable surges of agony before waking in Keyna's compound. Keyna knew about all that, of course. He had ignored the one time that Jack had called himself "O'Neill" the day they met, but remembered that defiance. His name was now a test of his submission.

The problem was, he didn't know what answer would be considered acceptable. He'd happily use any name, any word – profanity, gibberish, anything – that would appease Keyna. He'd tried that as an answer, saying that his name was whatever Keyna wished it to be. It had infuriated the man. He thought that Jack was not only unbroken, but still sassing him. Jack had been punished twice more for that impudence. He knew he'd be asked again, and punished again, until he found the answer.

"Tarmo, please. What will my name be when I'm trained?"

"How should I know?" Tarmo was moving away from him, out of reach as though he might begin to act as crazily as he was talking.

"Where did your name come from?"

"It's just my human-name, with 'mo' at the end."

His *human* name. If Jack had needed any more evidence that the mayree were no better than animals, that was it. There was no time to dwell on that depressing thought. He needed to figure out his name. "So your name was 'Tar' before you were captured?"

The man looked offended. "Of course not, who would give their kid a name that didn't end with an 'a'?" He looked around surreptitiously, as if to make sure Blenna was not nearby to hear him remember his original name. "I was Tarquiana – mother liked fancy names – but Blenna did not care for such a long one as Tarquianamo so he shortened it."

Jack considered, grateful for the input. "So Carnamo was Carna before? Or was his name longer, too?"

"I expect it was Carna, but I don't really know. It is punishable for a mayra to speak his human-name." Tarmo's eyes narrowed, realizing that he had just done so. "If you tell master I said my human-name, I'll deny it. He'll believe me and you'll be punished for lying."

"I won't tell." Jack didn't care about Tarmo's name for the name, and he certainly wasn't going to try to get any other mayra in trouble. He only wanted to know what to say next time he was asked for his own name.

Jack considered a moment. This explained why none of the names, ranks, or serial numbers had worked. None ended with 'a.' But which name was the right one now? O'Neill was clearly out, as were Colonel and his serial number. Would it be Jamo, cutting "Jack" off at the "a" and adding "mo"? Or Jonamo, from Jonathon up to the "a"? Or even Jonathamo, if they thought Jonathon had sounded like it ended with "an"?

"Tarmo, was there a reason that Blenna called you Tarmo instead of Tamo?" It seemed like stopping at the "a" better fit the general rule; if there were exceptions, Jack needed to know what they were.

The man scowled at him. Maybe Blenna's choice had been intended to embarrass the slave.

"Tarmo, I really need to know. Keyna is going to ask me my name and I don't know what to say. If I'm wrong, Keyna…Keyna will…" He shuddered at the thought.

Tarmo seemed to take pity on him then. "Keyna is known to be…thorough… in his training." He spoke cautiously, as though Jack would be affronted by an insult to Keyna. "Just put 'mo' after your human-name, and it'll be all right. Keyna will have your human-name from your capture, he will know when you tell him the truth. Get some rest now." Tarmo lay down on the other pile of straw, burrowing down into it for warmth.

Jack lay down on the hard floor, arms crossed for warmth. He didn't mind that they hadn't shared the straw. This was still warmer and better smelling than his usual place outside behind the feces pile. As he lay, he thought over which name his captors would have heard most, and what was most likely to be what Keyna expected. Jona and Jonatha were more likely than Ja as human-names, he decided. But which? He turned the crucial question over in his mind as he lay there in the dark barn. There were two punishments already coming. If he did things right, if he made Keyna believe he'd broken, the question of his name might be asked again. And if he got the answer right, maybe those punishments would be his last. *Oh, please, please, please, let them be his last.* He didn't know how much more he could take.

He would try Jonathamo, he decided, and claim that he'd been saying "Jonatha, I'll kneel" to show submission and that they'd mis-heard him to be saying "Jonathan O'Neill." Surely that was what Keyna wanted to hear. If not…. He didn't even want to imagine what Keyna would do if he thought Jack was still sassing him after his last dramatic correction for insolence.

oOo

"I can't do this." Daniel Jackson turned away yet again. He couldn't look at it anymore.

"Daniel, this is important," Samantha Carter tried to hide her exasperation. She was eager to begin the rescue, and this was the last thing holding them up. "If you can't do this now, if you can't even *practice,* you might hesitate if…if…" Ok, she could do it, she'd practiced enough to be sure, but she still had trouble saying it.

"You may hesitate if it is necessary in the field," Teal'c finished for her. He didn't like it any more than they did, but he had had a lot more practice hiding his feelings as Apophis' First Prime. "You must know that you can act, and that your aim will be true."

"I'll do it if I have to," Daniel said stubbornly.

"If that is so, and your team tells you that you have to do it now, then do so," Teal'c said calmly.

Daniel stared at the other man for a moment, hating both his teammates for an instant for making him do this.

"It's for the best," Carter said softly.

Daniel closed his eyes, and heard her sigh, knew the others were exchanging a worried look. Fine. He'd show them. He opened his eyes and whirled, raising his right arm. The flexible metallic tube in his sleeve moved with him, tugging only slightly on the apparatus circling his waist. He made the Spiderman-like gesture, pressing with two separate fingers on the pad at his wrist.

The energy pulse shot out, striking the life-size photo of Jack O'Neill square in the chest. The paper torso, and the wall behind it disappeared in a hail of paper and stone, leaving a hole over three feet in diameter. It was intended as a siege weapon, a portable means of beating down an enemy's gate or wall. They might use it that way.

They might also use it as their last resort; if there was no way to get the Colonel off that planet, they would kill him in a way no technology could restore.

The top half of Jack's face teetered over the space where its body used to be, swinging side to side as though he was shaking his head at Daniel in rebuke. If it came to this, to killing Jack, they had to leave more than just half a head so the locals could identify his remains.

Daniel stared at the disembodied brown eyes for a moment, and something seemed to settle in him. They had to be ready. If they failed to rescue Jack, they *must* succeed in granting his last wish. With a resolve he had not felt until this moment, Daniel swung around and fired at the other three targets in succession, striking each in the lower body.

"We are ready," Teal'c clapped a solemn hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"Let's go get the Colonel," Carter added, and they strode off.

A trio of paper heads, none with more than shoulders still attached, rocked eerily behind them.

oOo

Next chapter: A riotous rescue, and how Keyna is controlling Jack