Daughter
A/N: Merry Christmas, FF Net was down. What a wonderful present - an annoying one. So much for the stats. At least the site came back up in time for this update. One of my absolute favorite funny scenes is included here. See if you can pick it out; it's a fun one. And as another piece of trivia: I'm working on Ch. 58 next. My computer is literally exploding from how massive this story has gotten! One of my kids is like, are you gonna do a hundred chapters!? Sheesh. I dunno. But it's gettin' there.
Chapter 45 – Do Not Touch
"Alright, Mal Doran," Reynolds said in the briefing room. "Whatcha got?"
SG-3 sat together at the table. The men gazed over at Elda expectantly.
"Our mark, our smuggler friend, recently worked with a few other smugglers that I have never heard of. SG-2's intelligence is telling me that he was accused of skimming off their last operation. Taking more of a share than what was agreed to. I think that's why he's pivoting into bounty hunter work. Gets him out of their view for a while." She pointed at his picture. "We could pretend to be bounty hunters and befriend him. There's a couple of scenarios I foresee happening. We could get him comfortable by acting just as bumbling and inexperienced as I expect him to be in that line of work. Or we could do the opposite: act as experts that he ought to learn from."
"Okay," Reynolds said considerately. "How exactly would that look?"
"Mmm, I think it's Crawford's turn to work the mark. He could easily pose as a bounty hunter. Use that intimidating charm of his." She smirked at the marine in question.
He shrugged with a proud smile. Smith also grinned.
"Crawfy could find out what the smuggler's real angle is so we can twist it to our advantage. We need to know what the competition is like and where the bounties are being taken to."
Crawford nodded easily. Baker observed that he was hardly surprised by Elda's suggestion, as if he had seen and done all this before. SG-3 was often in the business of intelligence; it was true. But it would seem Elda's presence gave them a new and refreshing edge. She'd already influenced the two younger marines into adopting her crafty ways out in the field. The space station seemed to have served as her personal training grounds for them. And here Baker thought he was supposed to training her.
"This could be our chance to see what else is known about the buyers," she continued, "before we have to confront them. If needed, we bring in Smith as another bounty hunter. Just depends on how things go between Crawford and the mark."
The boys in question shared a glance and tilted their heads in agreement.
Reynolds looked between them and noted how at ease they seemed with Elda's ideas. Even he was inclined to go along with them. The Colonel marveled at how well she had wormed her way onto this team. As if she'd been here all along. She might even take over if he didn't watch out. Sheesh.
"So one person at a time, I take it?" Baker clarified.
"Right. We need to keep our options open. If just one of us can deal with the mark, that leaves the rest to work the job from other angles."
"What about you?" Reynolds asked.
Elda pursed her lips. "Well, I don't really fit the profile of a bounty hunter. While there are female ones around who've made names for themselves, they're far and few between. I won't be taken seriously if I try to pose as one. But…" She paused, not sure if they would agree to this next suggestion. "I could pose as one of the Jaffa being snatched up. Crawford could pretend I'm his bounty and get me to wherever all those poor Jaffa are being taken."
Reynolds squinted his eyes at her. He seemed to think on it for a good long time before responding. "That could be risky."
"True. But it could also be rewarding. We want information on who's putting out these bounties, right? There's only so much we can learn from the outside. Why not go straight to the source?"
"Elda," Baker cut in. "What exactly is the bounty for?"
"They're looking for young adult Jaffa who are well out of prata and still hosting symbiotes. No tretonin. I could pass easily as one of those."
"You hang with Jaffa all the damn time," Smith noted.
"Exactly. And people here tell me I act like them without thinking. So…"
"Okay, I'll grant you that," Reynolds said, agreeing with everyone's regard for her. "What do you think you'll do once you're supposedly captured? That's if we do this at all."
"Find other victims and see what's being done to them. Free them if I can, without also blowing my cover."
"Sir," Baker said, "Maybe we should ask the Hammond to be in on this one. We might need to chase after her and beam her out, wherever she ends up."
Reynolds brought a hand up to rub his chin. "Yep, thinkin' the same." He pointed a finger at her. "If you get compromised, you can't let them know you work for us."
"Okay."
"Are we going to use the Firefly for this?" Crawford wondered.
Elda replied, "Maybe. It could be a safe little base of operations while you're on that commerce planet getting to know our mark. The forward port can be tinted so that no one actually sees inside the ship. Colonel, you and the Lieutenant could hide in there while actively monitoring the op."
"If you're going to be undercover, who's going to fly the ship?" Smith asked.
She shrugged. "There's autopilot. You all have authorization to activate it now. Just enter what you want and the ship will find the simplest way to get you there."
"Can it handle touchy situations the way you did the other night?" Reynolds questioned.
"Ha. No. If you find yourself the target of enemy fire while on autopilot, you might as well make peace with your sins and welcome the end," she said nonchalantly. Elda tilted her head and smiled playfully.
Reynolds raised his brow. "Okay. No autopilot under fire. Check."
"I don't like it, Sam," Jack complained.
"Neither do I," she said on the phone. She was in the family's quarters on base. He was still in his office in Washington. "But Hank already approved it. They're going." If Jack were right in front of her, she'd hold up an index finger to stop him from saying more. "And we cannot interfere. We'd end up blowing her cover here at home."
"I'd rather blow that cover than have her adopt a new one out there," he groused.
"You don't really mean that, Jack."
He simply grumbled further in complaint.
"I had a chance to talk with her before she went to Tek'ron to get ready for the mission. She's pretty confident she can pass for a Jaffa."
"I'll bet she could. She gonna get a tattoo on her forehead and everything?"
"A temporary one. She says the Hak'tyl have something for that. She's also going to dye her hair."
"What!?" He liked his wife's and daughters' golden hair. He couldn't imagine them wearing any other color.
"Gracie said it will be temporary. Said she brought something back from the space station that does it… electronically? I dunno. She promised to show it to me."
"Wonder what my buddy will think of that."
"I dunno, Jack. It'll be interesting. That's for sure."
"How the hell is Reynolds supposed to protect her if he's taking a back seat on this one?"
"I have no idea. We're going to have to trust SG-3. Hard to predict what will happen out there. They'll need to think on their feet."
"Like always."
"Right," Sam agreed.
"Sam, I want you ready to jump in. If they're taking her ship, they might need an alternate pilot when the shit hits the fan."
"Yes, sir," she responded automatically to the order. It happened from time to time when Jack had to assert his rank like this.
"I'll make sure Hank knows. We'll let the order come from him."
Sam then suggested, "We should also make sure SG-1 doesn't go anywhere before SG-3 comes back. We might need them. Their team's filled with pilots, too."
"Good idea. Might just work out. Mitchell still needs to plan that space station mission Hank assigned them to run. You hear about that?"
"No, I did not." Sam frowned. She didn't like being left out of the loop. But she wasn't technically a member of the team anymore. She was more of a special guest star these days. When it came to regular day-to-day activities for SG-1, Sam wasn't involved. At the moment she was just putzing around the base, putting in time with the scientists and catching up on old projects that she never finished during her time here. On paper, she was still supposed to be studying the Zershan shuttle. But the point was moot now. Command was leaning toward buying them outright.
Once again, the Colonel was in limbo. And it was starting to bother her. She'd earned the privilege of not having a long-term posting and being able to go where she was needed. It was advantageous with a small child. But when it came to her elder daughter's safety, Sam wished she had a more predictable and effective way to guarantee that safety herself. She just wasn't sure what command position she could take on to do that. She knew she could have her picks, too, being married to the Head of Homeworld Command. She wasn't above a little nepotism if it meant her children would be safe.
Jack went on to explain about SG-1, "They're gonna go back over there and make formal contact with the people in charge. Establish relations. Try to bring home new toys. Yadda yadda yadda."
"I'm sure Daniel will be thrilled. He was fascinated with that place."
"Yeah. Furlings. Who woulda thought. We need to remind Mitchell not to let him get lost."
"Because Daniel would get lost."
"Absolutely." They both chuckled, reflecting on their past experiences together. Then Jack sighed as he pivoted back to their original topic of conversation. "Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Protect our little girl, huh?"
"With my life, Jack."
Jasuf entered the Hak'tyl square. His face was neutral as he gazed around. The sisters that were there were all busy. They paused briefly to bow to him in deference, expressions no longer harboring the cold, hard stares he was used to receiving. Some of them even regarded him with friendly smiles. Their interactions were brief. The women simply continued on with their various tasks.
Both Ishta and his father were offworld. Jasuf did not care what objectives they had. He was too busy taking on the responsibility of running the entire village by himself today. He understood that his counterpart, Nesa, had been given a similar task here among the Hak'tyl. She should only have called him if there was a problem. As an ally, he was required to respond.
But he saw no signs of trouble here. No one appeared alarmed. It made him wonder why he was even here. He had a village to run. He needed to get back. In fact, he shouldn't have left at all. Jasuf ground his teeth at this interruption. If he was meant to work with the Hak'tyl, they needed to respect his time.
His eyes were drawn to the door of the main hut as it opened. Nesa stepped down and went to him immediately. She had a look on her face that he found curious.
"Jasuf," she said with a respectful bow.
"Nesa." He bowed back, letting the depth match hers as a peer. "Why have I been summoned?" he asked impatiently.
She quirked a brow. If he didn't know any better, there was mischief in her eyes. It was not something he'd ever seen from her before. He found himself growing more impatient. He had no time for games. He had nervously left Lo'zim in charge. He would have preferred Bier, but his father had taken him as lead guardsman offworld. Goru would have been his next choice, but that Jaffa was here instead serving as the ambassador.
Jasuf's eyes glanced around, looking for his brother. Maybe he could command him to return to the village with him today. He could certainly use his help.
Nesa finally answered him. "There is something I should think you would like to see." She turned slightly to point at the governance hut.
"Is it urgent?" Jasuf finally caught sight of Goru off to the side. His eyes demanded that his warrior report to his side.
Goru blinked, glancing uncertainly toward Nesa. He was obviously unsure of who his real superior was with both of them standing there together.
"In that this sight will be gone within the day, then yes."
"Is there a problem?" he retorted with continued displeasure. He was already tired of Nesa's cryptic responses.
She smiled now. "That depends on your perspective. It is certainly…" She paused, trying to think of the best word. "…interesting."
Jasuf let out a breath of exasperation. Nesa seemed to pay his irritation no mind. It was a quiet reminder of how much she aggravated him every day of the week.
"I must recall my brother Goru. Our village requires him today," Jasuf demanded to her. He hoped that she would understand that this was the least she could do for interrupting him.
She inclined her head in agreement. Nesa looked behind her to where she knew Goru was waiting. She gestured for him to step forward.
He bowed respectfully. "Nesa. Jasuf."
"You may return to your own village today, Goru. Krelnok. Do as Jasuf commands," Nesa allowed him.
Jasuf did not hesitate to give orders. "Goru. See to it that our village is not burning to the ground as we speak." He leaned in. "I had no choice but to leave Lo'zim in command."
Goru's eyes widened. He quickly darted off.
Nesa watched him go with amused eyes. Then she turned back to Jasuf. "Come." She led him to the doors of the governance hut and ventured in first.
Jasuf knew Ishta was not there. He also knew that her Kindra and second-in-command, Neith, was offworld with the Hak'tyl guard at the Zershan manufacturing facility. He did not feel the need to bow upon entry. No one higher in rank than him would be inside.
When he stepped in, he spied three Hak'tyl gathered off to the side. They were turned away from him. He narrowed his eyes, seeing nothing of interest there. He gazed around. Nesa stood before the throne but did not take a seat. Her mouth quirked as she watched him with interest.
One of the Hak'tyl, Agean, caught sight of the heir apparent. Her mouth opened in surprise. Her eyes darted to her companions. Idul was there, too. Jasuf turned back to them. When Idul locked eyes with him, he suddenly sensed naughtiness in the air.
She smirked. It wasn't just any smirk; it was the sort that signaled mischief.
Jasuf had learned by now that a look like that coming from Idul meant trouble.
He narrowed his eyes at her, silently demanding information and complaining that his time was being wasted.
She raised a brow at him, not intimidated in the least.
Nesa ground her teeth at this exchange but did not protest aloud about Idul forgetting her place with him. She understood that her warrior had inexplicably become Jasuf's friend. She could no longer control what Idul did. Not that she ever could in the first place.
Idul grabbed the arm of the Hak'tyl warrior next to her and forcefully turned her around.
Jasuf's eyes went wide.
The dark-haired female smiled back at him with delight and surprise. "My love."
His mouth dropped open.
Nesa laughed aloud at his incredulous reaction. Idul followed. Agean stood frozen, unsure of how to behave in his presence.
"Elda?" he asked in confusion.
She was dressed as she normally would be among the Hak'tyl. That was nothing surprising. But everything else about her had been changed. It was obvious. She suddenly bore the mark of the Goa'uld Moloc on her forehead. Her hair had been darkened to the likeness of the sky on a moonless night. It was braided into the style of a warrior prepared for battle, with long tendrils cascading about her shoulders. Even her eyebrows and lashes appeared darker.
Nesa and Idul grinned widely at his disbelief. Agean hazarded a smile.
Idul tilted her head at him slyly in challenge. "She makes a fine Jaffa, does she not?"
Jasuf's eyes darted to hers. "What mischief are you causing now, Idul?" he accused.
She huffed dramatically. "Nothing that hasn't been requested of me." She ran her fingers along Elda's arm suggestively. "Your mate asked this of us. And we complied." Idul now stepped forward to him. She whispered into his ear provocatively, "Enjoy it while you can."
His head briefly turned to watch Idul leave, eyes stuck in a squint. Nesa raised her brow at the Hak'tyl's daring insubordination but said nothing. She waved Agean along with her to follow Idul out. Jasuf could hear the three of them laughing as the door was shut.
Elda grinned. "What do you think?" She bared her arms outward and spun around for him to see.
Jasuf stepped forward and grabbed her hips. "WHAT is transpiring here!?"
She let out a musical laugh. Then she pulled on his neck to bring him close, laying a fiery kiss on his mouth.
His body activated immediately, but his mind refused to go along with it. He was too flabbergasted. He pulled away from her. He would not give in. "Elda," he warned.
Her fingertips danced along his jawline affectionately. She wore an amused smile, drawing enjoyment out of his reaction. She didn't know he would see her like this, but she was glad that he did. His look was priceless. And she didn't care one bit that he might be mad.
"It's for a manipulation job. I have to go undercover."
Jasuf briefly squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth. "Why," he ground out, "must you look like this?"
She bit her lip, tickled by his anger.
His eyes were drawn to the action. His mind now waged war with his body to control it.
"I must pose as a Jaffa and allow myself to be captured by bounty hunters. SG-3 and I mean to determine why some unknown foe is collecting innocent Jaffa around the sector."
He blinked. "There is a bounty for Jaffa?"
Elda nodded. "Jaffa who still harbor symbiotes. Jaffa who are similar in age to us. Spread word of this to our allies, my love. They must be warned to protect their young adults."
He let out a breath. "I shall. But why you? Surely this will be dangerous." The worry in his tone was obvious.
"I'm not the only one working this job. Crawford will pose as a bounty hunter. He'll pretend to have captured me and deliver me to the buyers. I won't be harmed." She shook her head for emphasis.
"Of course not. He is your brother. But can he really guarantee your safety after you are delivered?"
"No," she admitted. "But remember, I am a daughter of the galaxy. I can take care of myself."
"Of that I have no doubt," he agreed with confidence. "But others around you cannot be trusted to treat you well."
Elda breathed in. Her own father had said something to that effect just the other morning. She let the breath out now, quietly satisfied with the love and concern they both always showed her. She smiled as she stroked Jasuf's cheek. "Your love pleases me." She pecked him there. "Do not fear. We have plans and contingencies in place. And should anything happen, my father will likely bring to bear the entire force of the Tau'ri upon anyone who dares to harm me."
His eyes narrowed. "I will do the same," he promised with menace. His hands gripped her hips harder, emphasizing his next point. "You will take care not to place yourself in harm's way." It sounded like an order.
She smiled at him. "As you say, my love," she agreed. She flicked a finger across the tip of his nose. "You still haven't told me what you think of my new look."
"It is temporary?"
"Yes."
"It is… different," he said hesitantly.
Elda pouted.
He sighed. "Elda, your natural beauty is enough for me." He fingered her now dark braids. "This is not necessary for me to love you more."
She shrugged with a bit of disappointment. "Okay. I just thought you might enjoy the change."
He surprised her when he instantly captured her mouth in a searing kiss. She hummed into his mouth with pleasure. "Do not misunderstand me," he said in his low tone. His voice came out gritty, with a hungry growl. "I would still take you here if I could."
Her mouth popped open in anticipation. She leaned into him further. "Now this was the reaction I was hoping for." She giggled naughtily as she kissed him, body warming.
Jasuf pulled away, still remembering exactly where he was. "Not. Here."
"I know," she sing-songed in complaint. She breathed him in, enjoying his nearness and his hunger for her. Her voice dropped low. "Shall we go home for a short while, then?"
Jasuf pushed all of his concerns for his village out of his mind. He trusted Goru to put out the fires if it was truly burning. This was suddenly more important.
"Wow," Crawford whispered, eyes wide.
"Dayum!" Smith exclaimed.
They were both standing at the bottom of the ramp in the gate room, watching as an apparent female Jaffa stepped toward them. She wasn't exactly dressed conservatively. Nor was her manner of dress appropriate for the winter weather on the other planet. Likely someone had walked her to the gate with a coat and took it back as she passed through the wormhole.
The defense team's mouths dropped open at the sight of her. They all glanced at each other in surprise. The men would have reached up to pull at their collars if they hadn't been gripping weapons.
Elda paused before her teammates with a smile.
Smith circled her, hands in his pockets. He could care less about rumors about the three of them right now. He just had to get a good look at her. His eyes darted up and down as he surveyed her very obvious change in appearance.
Crawford's mouth gaped as he stared. "Elda…" he started. "Holy cow."
"She's perfect, ain't she?" Smith commented, looking over at his buddy. He leaned in toward Elda. "You are a fucking spy. I swear to God. It's awesome!" He laughed aloud.
Crawford glanced at the defense team. They were definitely glued to the sight before them, too. He narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the looks on the other men's faces. He coughed loudly to get their attention, then glared at them in warning. Their eyes immediately withdrew, and they returned to what they should have been doing this whole time.
Elda didn't fail to notice his protectiveness. It made her smile.
Smith grinned at this, too. He chuckled even more. "Come on, Baby, time to show the General your new look." He put a light hand on the small of her back and pushed her toward the exit. He whispered as they walked. "What did Jasuf think?"
She didn't answer. The satisfied smirk on her face told Smith all he needed to know. He laughed wickedly and shot a look toward Crawford behind them. But their friend was still in too much shock to join in on the banter.
Vala paused in the corridor and blinked. Who was that? She pivoted and chased after the female Jaffa she saw at the far end of the hallway. The dark-haired woman turned a corner. Did one of the teams bring a new visitor to the base? She wondered if that person knew Elda. Maybe she could introduce them, if not. She figured her daughter would be thrilled to meet a Jaffa guest at the SGC. That was if she was even onworld.
When she reached the intersection of the corridor, she noted that the Jaffa was bowing before Teal'c. He was smiling. Vala quirked a brow and approached the pair. "Muscles?"
The female Jaffa turned to smile at Vala.
Vala jumped in surprise. Her mouth dropped open. She could only stare.
"ValaMalDoran," Teal'c greeted her. His voice revealed his amusement with her reaction. He stood calmly with hands clasped behind his back.
The female Jaffa, who wasn't actually a Jaffa at all, grinned at her. "Hi," Elda said. She shared a glance with Teal'c, whose eyes were smiling. "You think it'll work?" The former blonde waved a hand up and down at her own body, drawing attention to the decidedly-provocative Hak'tyl garb she was wearing.
Vala grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes raked in Elda's now black hair and the new mark on her forehead. She made her turn around so she could see the full result of a Jaffa make-over. Vala let out a breath and shook her head at her. "Where do you mean to go, looking like a sexy female Jaffa?"
"I'm going to be one of Crawford's bounties."
Vala raised a brow at her suspiciously. "Elda," she said with warning in her tone. If this was supposed to be some sort of kinky role-playing thing, Vala would have none of it. While she appreciated her daughter's honesty about sex, this was a bit much. Even for the former space pirate.
She held up two hands. "It's a legitimate mission with SG-3, Vala." She purposely addressed her by first name instead of calling her 'Mom.' They were in public. And Elda was acutely aware of all the stares she was receiving from male personnel passing by in the corridor. She knew she had everyone's attention. She actually found it entertaining.
Now she was starting to understand why her mother enjoyed parading around the base in her low-cut travel suit from time to time.
Vala just stared at her dubiously.
"I swear," Elda emphasized. "I'm going undercover as a Jaffa so I can find out what this bounty is all about."
"What bounty?"
"There's a bounty out there for young adult Jaffa with symbiotes. Payment is in naquedah."
"Sounds serious."
"Right. So we're going to find out more and see if there's something to be done about it."
"All of SG-3 is going? Right?" Vala clarified hesitantly. If this was a two-man operation with just Crawford, the rumors on the base would go into overdrive.
"Yes. We're all leaving together." Elda rolled her eyes, knowing what her mother must be thinking.
Vala sighed. The family knew she was slated for harder missions by joining SG-3, out of all the SG-teams on the base. And they knew her pregnancy meant Landry would be leaning on SG-3 more than SG-1 out of concern for her. He even declared that intention out loud. Vala leaned in and lowered her voice. "Does a certain other General know about this op?"
"Probably. But I'm not going to ask him. Just in case he doesn't already know and would want to scrub the mission."
Teal'c raised a brow.
Vala looked her up and down again. "Maybe he should," she said under her breath. She turned to the real Jaffa among them now. "What do you think, Teal'c? Could she pass for a Jaffa?"
"Were you not fooled just a few moments ago?" he challenged.
Vala regarded him with annoyance. She flipped her hair haughtily. "Anyone would have been fooled from that distance," she replied with testiness.
"Indeed."
Elda grinned. She took her mother's indignant reaction as a sign that she would be successful. "Oh good. Then maybe this op will go as planned." She turned to look up at Teal'c. "My sisters did well!"
He inclined his head to agree.
"Those boys on SG-3 better watch out," Vala muttered.
Elda changed into a simple base uniform while they were killing time before the mission. General Landry had ordered it. He said something about her being too distracting in her Jaffa garb. She didn't protest, considering all the looks she was receiving. The male gaze was particularly strong today. It was comical to her. These human men didn't know what real beauty was until they'd seen a Jaffa woman, apparently.
Her sisters would be very entertained to hear that detail, she was sure.
The planet they were to venture to was in a completely different time zone. While it might be approaching nighttime on this side of the Earth, it would be morning over there. They planned to get settled into the operation first, then catch some zzz's in the shuttle before commencing the real work at nightfall on the other planet.
SG-3 had just enough time to grab a meal before they were to leave. This was their last chance to eat familiar food from Earth, before having to find taverns or inns elsewhere. Elda wasn't worried about paying for anything. Between the SGC funding their team and Jasuf slipping extra money into her pockets, she felt that she would be prepared to purchase food easily. It was a far cry from her previous days as a courier, when regular meals were never a guarantee. She and her mother used to go days without eating.
Reynolds made it a point to go home and eat with his family. Baker disappeared with a promise to be back in time for the mission to start. Elda sat with Crawford and Smith in the commissary as usual. Nothing about this was remarkable, except for the fact that Elda was now sporting black hair with a Goa'uld symbol on her face. She received curious stares from anyone new who walked in.
Mitchell, himself, did a double-take. He hit Daniel's arm next to him, whose heels screeched as he suddenly halted. They stared from the middle of the entryway, not even realizing that they were blocking others from getting in and out.
"What the Hell?" the archaeologist exclaimed.
Mitchell marched them both over to SG-3's table. Their eyes were stuck on her hair.
"Hi, Cameron," Elda greeted him brightly. "Hi, Daniel."
The marines also waved to say hello.
"Elda?" Daniel started. "When you were burning the midnight oil, did you get burned by the midnight oil?" he asked incredulously.
"Huh?"
The linguist pointed at her new hair color.
She unconsciously reached up to touch her hair. She grabbed one of her braided ponytails and looked down at it admiringly, enjoying the new color of the moment. Crawford and Smith grinned at her. They'd seen her try out all kinds of hair colors back on the space station. Black was, by far, one of their favorites on her. Elda smiled when she looked back up at her uncles.
Mitchell glanced at Daniel. "Did you know she was going to do this?" he asked curiously.
Daniel shook his head. Maybe he should have asked her what she was working on when he caught her in here last night. He thought he didn't want to know. But seeing her now, he probably should have asked.
Jack was going to flip out. She looked just like a Jaffa.
"So," Mitchell said, "what's with the new look?"
"We have a mission to go on," Elda reported casually. "Don't you know about it?"
The Colonel's mouth opened and closed. "I thought I saw something brief on it, but didn't realize it involved this," he admitted, pointing at her hair and new tattoo.
Elda shared a glance with her marine friends. They all shrugged.
"Why, where are they going?" Daniel asked curiously. He didn't have automatic access to everyone's plans like Mitchell did. He usually didn't want that sort of privilege in the first place.
"Why don't you tell us, Corporals?" Mitchell ordered of the marines.
Crawford answered for the group. "We have an undercover op to investigate a bounty. It calls for the capture and delivery of young Jaffa with symbiotes. SG-2 found out about the bounty incidentally during their investigation of how our last major op got botched. Our lead is a smuggler that SG-2 identified. He's the one that leaked the Colonel and Lieutenant's covers."
"So I take it, you three will be out front and the others are taking a back seat?" Mitchell verified.
"Yes, sir."
The leader of SG-1 turned to Elda now. "You're going to pretend to get captured, aren't ya?"
She nodded.
Daniel ran a hand down his face and groaned. "Why am I not surprised." He sighed. "You really are a Mal Doran."
Elda smiled at his acknowledgement. "Always have been." She winked at him.
Smith pulled Crawford aside in the armory. Reynolds and Baker had already moved on after obtaining their standard gear. It was taking the other two marines longer because they had to acquire different weapons than usual for this op. They were both dressed in bounty-hunter appropriate garb for the mission.
Smith made sure no one was within earshot. He laid a heavy hand on his friend's shoulder. "Look, man. I know she's hot as fuck."
Crawford glared at him, knowing where this was going.
"You are going to stay focused, Marine," Smith warned him. "The mission comes first." There was an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes as he said it.
"I know that, asshole."
"I know you know that," Smith agreed. "I'm just sayin' it out loud so it's crystal clear. Remember what we agreed…"
The two of them said it together: "We don't fuck with her." Crawford's words came through as a tired complaint. Smith's version was eager and enthusiastic.
Smith patted his friend on the shoulder. He bared his teeth, clearly entertained by the way this was turning out. He was so, so glad it wasn't his turn. No one expected to see Elda looking even more fine than usual dressed up as a Jaffa. It was just like on the space station when she first got dolled up to go dancing. The temptation to touch her was as real then as it was now.
They had to keep in mind that there was a big-ass Jaffa waiting to kick their asses twice over if either of them gave in.
Then on top of that, Elda, herself, would kick her boot so far up theirs they'd be able to taste the dirt on her shoe.
Neither of them looked forward to the day when that would have to happen.
So they had to work their butts off to avoid it.
"Think of Chelsea," Smith said, as if calmly meditating on Crawford's behalf. "Think of your girlfriend."
Crawford smacked Smith's arm forcefully. "Are you done?"
"No." He brought his hands outward and pinched his fingers together in each one. He closed his eyes. "You will not touch Elda. You will not touch Elda," he repeated.
Crawford rolled his eyes dramatically. "Shut the fuck up, Smitty." He turned around and walked out of the armory with a huff.
"Elda," Sam called from the entrance to the gate room. The look on her face was one of a mother ready to scold her naughty child.
Her actual daughter turned at the sound of her voice. She looked back at her sheepishly.
Reynolds quirked a smile, recognizing that look. His own wife was an expert at it with their four children. He knew it well. He didn't even realize the actual relationship between them and that the Colonel's look was genuine. He just imagined Sam was showing concern for her beloved friend's sister.
Sam pointed at the ground beneath her feet, silently ordering Elda to report to her immediately.
The former blonde took in a quiet breath and complied. "Yes?" she whispered.
Sam whispered back, but with consternation in her tone. "Are you serious?" Her eyes swept over her, taking in the change in hair color, clothes, and her overall demeanor.
"I told you about this!"
Sam groaned. That was true. But she didn't know that her daughter would end up looking like a vixen on the prowl. She worried that she would attract too much attention now. "Be careful," she said emphatically.
"I will. I can handle everything. Don't worry."
"I know you can. But I still can't help it. Listen, I am standing by to serve as back-up."
Elda's eyes widened.
"As a pilot," Sam clarified. She looked at her meaningfully.
Her daughter sighed quietly. "Okay, okay." She remembered Mitchell's warnings that being the only pilot aboard her shuttle was risky. "Was that…" She paused to clear her throat. "…someone's idea?"
"Yes."
Elda nodded, completely unsurprised that her father did know about this op ahead of time. "Right. Okay. Well… I should really be going." She pursed her lips and tilted her head in the direction of her team. The marines were all staring, waiting for her at the bottom of the ramp.
Sam's eyes darted up briefly to regard them. She narrowed them in Crawford's direction, silently ordering him to watch her back.
He blinked then surreptitiously nodded in compliance, understanding her meaning.
"Proceed," Sam ordered a little louder now.
Elda quirked a smile at her mother's military assertiveness. She inclined her head toward her respectfully as a commander then turned around. She offered her a brief tickle of the fingers into the air as they all stepped up the ramp and through the gate.
Sam groaned again.
Reynolds sat in the pilot's seat with Baker at his side on board the Firefly. They listened in as Crawford waited to make contact with the smuggler SG-2 had identified for them. Elda leaned back on the storage console behind them. Smith was somewhere in the same tavern as Crawford, being inconspicuous and pretending to nurse the planet's local ale. It was okay for him to be seen. He might need to be brought in as another player depending on how things went with Crawford's conversation.
"I wish we could see what was going on," Reynolds complained.
"At least we have live communications this time," Elda noted. "Crawford hated being without ear pieces on the space station."
Baker responded, "I'll bet he did."
Smith's voice crackled over the line. "Contact, three o-clock."
Crawford was already sitting at the bar with his own drink. He was pretending to look over a copy of the bounty for the Jaffa. He purposely had the flyer out in full view of anyone who wanted to see. This served to attract attention from just the right person.
A heavy-set fellow slipped into the seat next to him. He didn't look over in Crawford's direction. Instead he called for the bartender to provide him a drink. When he was served, he fished his own copy of the flyer out of his pocket. He unfolded the tattered paper and placed it onto the bar. "What a coincidence," the man remarked.
Crawford gave him an indifferent side-eye. He grunted, apparently not interested in making new friends.
The smuggler studied him. He could see the very shiny blaster sitting plainly on Crawford's thigh holster. He noticed the various knives secured upon his person. The marine's bulging muscles were on display from the sleeveless vest he had chosen to wear. He very much looked the part of a bounty hunter, which is what had the smuggler interested. This big fellow made the perfect candidate.
If he could befriend this bounty hunter, he could learn how things work and then jump into the profession himself. Then he could cash in on what seemed to be a pretty easy payday.
Little did he know that Crawford saw him coming from a mile away.
Elda had prepared him for this possibility. She coached him on all this already.
"Payment is in naquedah," the smuggler marveled aloud.
Crawford didn't respond. He merely took another sip of his drink.
"I could see myself putting all that naquedah to very good use," he hinted.
Crawford saw his opening now. "I'm sure you would." His tone came off as bored. But it was just enough to bait the man into continuing to yammer.
"Big man like you must be an expert on this by now," he said, gesturing at their matching flyers. "What would you do with the payment?"
The marine very slowly turned his head toward the smuggler with an unamused expression. He looked like he didn't appreciate the question. As if his private business was being intruded upon.
The smuggler didn't blink. "I know what I would do… bring that naquedah over to this refinery I know. Let them bring it up to weapons-grade. Negotiate a way to make them think they're getting the better end of the deal. Then take my newly-refined naquedah over to Feshar and sell it for a one-hundred and ten percent mark-up." He sounded sly. And proud of himself. Like he could do something like this all day.
Crawford gestured to get the bartender's attention. He ordered another drink for himself. When the cup slammed down in front of him, he took another swig. The entire time, he made the smuggler wait. Elda had said something about that being more effective than filling the void with words. You had to give your mark time to second-guess themselves if they mistakenly thought that they were there working you.
"Feshar, huh?" he said with feigned indifference.
"Indeed, my friend."
He gave the smuggler a hard-edged look. "We are not friends," he said quietly. "And Belzha is more profitable a market than Feshar on any day."
The smuggler quirked a brow, impressed. Now this told him the bounty hunter was legit. The smuggler had purposely name-dropped the market of only middle-importance in this local region of space. The real money to be made was on Belzha. Any human swindler worth their salt would know that.
And Elda was more than worth it in her line of work.
Crawford counted himself lucky to be on the right side of her. He didn't think he could handle being one of her marks, if it came down to it. He'd lose in a heartbeat.
"I tell you what," the smuggler suggested. "Let's enter into a partnership. I find us a bounty to snatch for this job here and you do what you do to grab it. Then we deliver together and split the profits. I'll even connect you with this contact I know on Belzha who's known to trade for a fair price."
"I work alone."
The smuggler sneered at him. "There's a considerable amount of competition out there for this," he said, pointing at the flyers. "You would need someone to watch your back."
Crawford raised his brow at him, as if not taking him seriously. He merely chuckled and drank more of his ale. He swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he pocketed the flyer he brought in. "No, thanks." The marine stood up and made his way out the door. The screech of the barstool came through loudly over the comms.
The smuggler watched him go, considering whether or not to follow.
Meanwhile in the shuttle, Reynolds turned in his seat toward Elda questioningly. "What is he doing?"
"Working the mark," she answered nonchalantly, still leaning back on the storage console.
Baker turned now, too. "He's leaving. How is that working the mark?"
Elda tilted her head patiently. "He's gotten the smuggler's attention. And now he's leaving him wanting for more." She pointed back at the active communications console. "Just you wait. The smuggler will be chasing him down within a few moments, trying to come up with a way to convince Crawfy to work with him. Then we'll find out just what exactly this guy has access to. We can twist that to our advantage and use it against him."
Reynolds furrowed his brow. She explained all that so casually, as if it were nothing surprising. He shared a look with Baker, who shrugged. The Colonel shook his head then turned back around in his seat. "Alright, Mal Doran. It's your show," he conceded. He'd done intelligence work before. But this seemed to be on a different wavelength than his usual experience.
Smith's voice sounded off. "Contact is leaving," he quietly reported.
Elda spoke up. "Tell Smith to stay in the tavern for now. We'll let him know when to move."
Baker did as was suggested, repeating the order for all to hear.
"Copy," he acknowledged.
Outside the tavern, the smuggler managed to hunt Crawford down. The marine purposely walked slow to give the guy a chance to catch up. He pretended to be heading to the local water well to get some real hydration after all that ale. His blaster shined in the moonlight, further attracting the smuggler like a moth to a flame. A weapon like that was hard to come by. It made the smuggler assume that this bounty hunter had connections.
Technically, that wasn't untrue, if you count befriending the children of a space station master connections. His pretty new blaster was purchased on their station. Rellie's people had taught him and Elda the dance moves that earned them enough money to buy it. They even got a little locally famous for how well they did. Crawford was more than happy to finally have a reason to carry his prize around.
Before Crawford could take a sip of the water he didn't actually trust to drink, the smuggler got his attention. He seemed to be short of breath, having hurried over from the tavern. The marine could see he wasn't big on physical activity and exercise. He wondered if all smugglers were like this. After catching his breath, the man finally said, "I could make it worth your while."
"What are you talking about?" Crawford said with apparent annoyance.
"I know people. People who could give us the best deals on any weapon you like. I see your new blaster there. How would you like to get it a mate and complete the set?" he offered.
"My blaster works alone," Crawford groused.
Elda laughed aloud in the shuttle. Her CO glared at her. She waved a hand in apology. "Sorry," she murmured. She could just imagine the contorted look on the smuggler's face.
"Alright then," the man continued. He tried another shiny object to dangle in front of Crawford. "Women. I know a place with…"
The marine held up a hand. "Stop wasting my time."
"But…"
The team heard the whine of a blaster being activated. Elda bit her lip. Crawford's instincts were perfect so far. He was doing well. She'd have to praise him later.
The smuggler held up both hands. His feet shuffled back an inch.
"What do you really want?" Crawford asked.
They heard the man huff after a beat. "Look, I'm switching careers here. This bounty seems like the perfect opportunity. I just need an 'in,'" he admitted.
Elda rolled her eyes. He had caved so easily.
"And so you just happen to find the first bounty hunter you can and try to recruit him?" Crawford questioned.
"Well, in truth, you're not the first one I've approached."
"Gee, wonder why," the marine deadpanned. Crawford shook his head. "I almost feel sorry for you."
The smuggler adopted a hopeful look.
"But not sorry enough to make you an apprentice."
The smuggler deflated. Then he perked up again. "How about an acquaintance then? I'll help you. In exchange, I take just a small portion of the earnings. You get to keep most of it."
Crawford just stared.
"What about… 80/20?"
The marine laughed aloud now.
"Good, Crawfy," Elda said encouragingly as she listened in. "Now work him down." But she knew he couldn't hear her.
"95/5," Crawford said forcefully. "Final offer." He gestured with the blaster for emphasis.
The smuggler frowned, eyes trained on its business end. "Fine. Deal."
They could all hear the blaster deactivate. "Good. Now I'll tell you what. Find the coordinates for the drop and get us a ship that will take us there. I'll go grab a bounty."
The other man frowned. "You make it sound like you already have someone in mind."
"I'm a bounty hunter. Please."
"Right."
"Here," Crawford said, handing him a calling card. "Contact me here. You have two hours."
"That's not nearly enough…"
The blaster activated again.
"Right, right. I'm going." They could hear the crunching of gravel as the former smuggler, now turned bounty-hunter-protégé, walked away.
Elda piped up. "Tell Smith to exit the tavern and follow our mark. Make sure he does what he was told to do. If he contacts anyone else along the way, we need to know about it."
Baker relayed the message to his subordinate.
"What about Crawford?" Reynolds asked.
"He can come back here for now. He needs to take a circuitous route, though. He can't be followed."
Baker then gave that command, to which Crawford replied, "Understood."
"What now?" their CO queried.
"Now?" Elda answered. "On to the next fun bits." She bit her lip and smiled.