Something was nagging at the back of Mia's mind, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She paced the interior of the small ship, frustrated that she couldn't remember something that might help. Reaching the front of the ship, Mia stopped briefly to watch the slow progress of doctors Lam and Lee through the front view port as they carefully calibrated and tested their equipment before putting it to use on the members of SG-1. Even from this distance, it was disconcerting to see the familiar forms of her family sunken and wrapped in thick vegetation, laying still as death as the rescue team carefully picked their way around them, trying to decide how best to proceed.
From where she stood, she could see General O'Neill securing the perimeter, making sure the site was free from immediate danger as the rest of his team absorbed themselves in their individual pursuits.
"How are you doing in here?," asked Jonas, poking his head in through the open rear hatch. Mia jumped, startled from her observations.
"I feel like there's something I should be doing right now, only I can't seem to remember what it is," she replied, her frustration evident in her tone. Jonas climbed the rest of the way into the ship, saying "There's not really much you and I can do right now."
Mia was about to retort when the radios crackled to life, SG-12 checking in with their progress.
"Connor's hunch was right, Sir," came the crisp voice of the commanding officer. "Sonar readings show a small Jaffa patrol buried just beneath the surface. Judging by the helmet on the one Jaffa, we're looking at some of Ra's men."
Mia and Jonas exchanged a significant look. Ra had been killed nearly a decade ago, but before that he had been among the oldest and most powerful Goaul'd System Lords. That patrol could have been laying there a very, very long time.
"All right, SG-12. Head back to the gate," ordered O'Neill in response. "Tell Hammond if we're not back in twelve hours, he's to permanently lock this gate address out of our dialling system."
"Sir?," came the startled reply.
"Colonel, if we're dealing with a man-eating planet, I want as few of my people here as possible," snapped the General. "Get your team back through that gate and make sure nobody else steps foot on this god-forsaken rock!," he commanded.
"Yes, Sir," crackled the Colonel's sharp reply.
"You know, now that we're actually here, I'm not so sure it is the planet," mused Mia.
"How do you figure?," Jonas asked curiously.
"There's no bait." Jonas shot her a confused look, so she continued her thought, explaining, "On Earth, predatory plants such as the Venus Fly Trap use bait to lure their victims inside. Here, there's no bait."
"So we're back to thinking the Furlings might have something to do with this?," he asked, moving to stand beside her.
Mia frowned. "I wouldn't leap to that conclusion just yet, but I am starting to think that there's something more than meets-the-eye going on here." Jonas nodded thoughtfully, considering the possibilities.
"This ship is Ancient, right?," he asked suddenly, looking around. Mia nodded. "Would there be anything in the database about this planet? I mean if the Ancients were the gatebuilders, and the Furlings were their allies..."
The nagging sensation stopped suddenly as Mia gaped at Jonas. Of course!, she thought. Daniel had once told her that he had never found the opportunity to decipher the puddle-jumper's database, either in his timeline or hers, because it involved coordinating with someone possessing the Ancient gene. It was an as-yet unexplored resource, waiting to be tapped. "Jonas, you're a genius!," she said out loud, quickly seating herself at the controls.
Concentrating on planetary information, Mia skimmed through the information provided, searching for P7X-294. Jonas sat down quietly beside her, scanning the information as well. Some time later, they had what they were looking for, and raced excitedly to the rear hatch shouting for General O'Neill to come over to the ship.
"Wait, what?," asked O'Neill, more confused than ever by the explanation being excitedly launched at him by his two over-eager Daniel substitutes.
Mia sighed, regrouping her thoughts and mustering what patience she had left to explain this yet again. "This planet is very similar to the original Furling homeworld, which was destroyed several millennia ago when their sun went super-nova."
"O-kay..." he said, dragging out the second syllable.
"On their homeworld, the Furlings had a somewhat symbiotic relationship with their natural surroundings," Jonas continued.
"Like the nymphs and dryads of ancient mythology," added Mia by way of illustration.
O'Neill shot them both a sceptical look. "So they danced around the forest naked and made the trees grow?," he asked dubiously. Mia exhaled sharply, growing weary of the General's stubborn refusal to understand, when Jonas intervened again.
"General, according to the ship's records, the Furlings were able to redistribute their own energy, or life-force, into their planet to sustain its dying ecosystem." Mia nodded, adding, "They knew they could only buy so much time with their own planet though, so they went looking for a new homeworld."
"And they found this place?," O'Neill asked, gesturing outside.
"Not right away," replied Jonas. "They colonized several other worlds before finding this one. Only a handful of Furling settlements actually made it this far."
"But unlike their other colonies," said Mia, picking up the tale, "the Furlings were able to share in this planet's energy the way they had on their own homeworld."
"In the end," finished Jonas, "they allowed themselves to be absorbed into the planet's ecosystem, immortalizing themselves within the planet's unique energy field."
"Wait a minute," said O'Neill, catching on. "Are you telling me that the Furlings themselves are part of the strange energy readings picked up by SG-12?"
"Yes," said Mia and Jonas together.
"Okay," he replied slowly. "And how does this help us?"
"If we can find a way to connect to the planet," supplied Mia, "then we may be able to communicate with the Furlings and convince them to release SG-1." Jack groaned. "I think you and I would stand the best chance," she added cautiously, "since we're directly descended from one of their allies."
"There's no 'we' about it," replied O'Neill sharply. "You stay here. Jonas and I will figure out the rest."
Before Mia had the chance to argue, Dr. Lam approached from behind the ship, calling out, "General O'Neill, there's something here I think you'd better see."
O'Neill, who had turned at the sound of his name, glanced quickly back to Mia, who immediately raised her hands in surrender. "I know, I know," she said, sitting back down at the console. "I'm not going anywhere." Nodding in apparent satisfaction, O'Neill turned to leave, Jonas shrugging apologetically before following the General from the ship.
"What've you got?," asked O'Neill, trailing the doctor back towards his former teammates.
"Neither Teal'c or Dr. Jackson are registering any significant brain activity, but," she said, interrupting O'Neill's attempt to respond, "Colonel Carter is registering four separate brain patterns."
"What!?," exclaimed O'Neill, quickly closing the distance left between himself and the monitors Dr. Lam had set up around his team.
"One of the patterns actually seems to correspond with the energy readings I'm picking up from these tendrils," said Dr. Lee as they approached, motioning towards the vines latched into the members of SG-1.
"Is it safe to assume the other two patterns belong to Daniel and Teal'c?," O'Neill asked, not quite daring to hope. Dr. Lam nodded. "They're definitely human," she replied.
"Strictly speaking, Teal'c is Jaffa, not human," Dr. Lee corrected. Carolyn Lam rolled her eyes. "The brainwaves are the same," she retorted, leaving no room for argument.
"So how do we fix this?," O'Neill asked tersely, motioning toward the three prone figures on the ground. Drs. Lee and Lam exchanged glances. "We don't know yet, Sir," Dr. Lam replied at last.
"General, I'm with Mia in thinking we should try to communicate with the planet," piped in Jonas as the rest of the group fell silent.
"And how do you propose we do that?," snapped the General. Jonas shrugged helplessly. "You could simply try talking to it," he suggested lamely. O'Neill glared at him. "You want me to talk to the trees?," he asked disbelievingly. "What could it hurt?," said Jonas in response.
"Oi," muttered the General, gazing skywards.