Daughter
Chapter 47 – Title
When Elda landed the Firefly, she immediately powered it down and stood. She was alone on her ship, having been allowed by the SGC to return home to Tek'ron to make an official request. She was once again in her Hak'tyl garb with her artificially-darkened hair. The mark of Moloc was still on her forehead. She opened up the storage console and pulled out the access bracelet that Jasuf's father gave her.
It looked right at home on her wrist.
She disembarked from her vessel and walked with purpose toward the rings. No one seemed to be about. Elda placed herself in the center and hit the commands on her bracelet to activate them. With a hum and a flash, she vanished from the surface of the planet.
She re-appeared aboard the Ha'tak in orbit. When she stepped forward out of the rings, two Jaffa bowed before her. One was a guardsman. The other was a Hak'tyl. She inclined her head to them, ignoring their looks of surprise over her Jaffa-like appearance. She didn't dwell on the novelty of seeing a member from each of her tribes standing together so willingly. "Brother, Sister," she addressed them both. "Where is our Tribe Father and Den Mother?"
"They are in the main hall beyond the peltac, EldaMalDoran," the Hak'tyl responded.
Elda locked eyes with the guardsman. "Send word that I approach with a matter of importance," she ordered.
He bowed his head compliantly. "As you say, My Lady." The guardsman raised a communicator to his mouth as she left them.
The Hak'tyl shot an inquisitive glance toward her companion. He merely tilted his head in a shrug as if it were nothing extraordinary. Elda had never asserted herself like that before. She thought she understood her title from the other village to be given in jest. Perhaps she was wrong.
Various Jaffa in the corridors paused to incline their heads to Elda as she ventured through the mothership. She bowed back as expected, but did not slow her pace to greet them further. They all glanced after her perplexed. No one took offense, however, presuming she must have urgent duties to attend to.
She arrived at the doors to the main hall and steeled herself. She sucked in a long, calming breath. Then she hit the command on the panel. It chimed, signaling to those inside that she was waiting to enter. The doors slid open.
She stepped forward and bowed low. When she rose, Meil'nor's surprised eyes greeted her from his spot at a table. Ishta, meanwhile, appeared impressed.
"Kal'ma," the Tribe Father said with wonder over her appearance. "You have returned to us."
"EldaMalDoran," Ishta greeted. "You make for a beautiful Jaffa." Nesa had described their sisters' efforts to transform her a few days ago.
"Den Mother," Elda acknowledged the compliment. But there was no smile to accompany her response.
Ishta narrowed her eyes. "You are troubled, dear Kal'ma." She raised a hand to her. "Sit with us."
Elda was invited into a seat at the same table. They did not demand that she choose a place lower in height compared to them. Instead, the two tribe leaders regarded her with curiosity.
Meil'nor inclined his head to her, offering her permission to speak.
Elda briefly shut her eyes and drew in a small breath. "I must first explain my appearance. I mean no disrespect to the Jaffa. SG-3 and I were sent on a mission to investigate a bounty. The targets were young Jaffa."
"Your mate shared news of this bounty with me," Meil'nor confirmed.
She inclined her head slightly to acknowledge this. "Yes, Master Meil'nor. My role was to pose as a victim and infiltrate the offenders' camp."
"Were you successful?" Ishta queried.
"I was."
"Were you harmed?" Meil'nor then asked with concern.
"No, I am uninjured." Her mouth twitched. "But the horrors I discovered there are concerning."
Meil'nor and Ishta glanced at each other. They nodded at her to go on.
"Our Brothers and Sisters were being experimented upon," she reported with quiet rage. "Many were unconscious and imprisoned without dignity. Others were left to rot in a holding cell, awaiting their fates." She met her tribe leaders' eyes. "They were terrified. And they had forgotten who they were."
Both of the Jaffa before her donned looks of trepidation.
"What has become of the offenders, EldaMalDoran?" Meil'nor asked with seriousness.
She locked eyes with him. "The subordinates are now prisoners of the Tau'ri. The leader is dead."
Jasuf's father implored her with a look to tell him more.
Elda looked grim. "I killed him. He meant to murder me with symbiote poison. But he did not know I was human. His death serves as vengeance for our people."
Ishta's eyes went wide.
Meil'nor regarded her with pride.
"You honor us with your loyalty, EldaMalDoran," Ishta stated with reverence.
Meil'nor bowed his head toward Elda in respect. "And what becomes of these unfortunate Jaffa that you have discovered?"
"The SGC is caring for the survivors aboard one of our battlecruisers. I requested the most qualified healer among us to tend to them. She reports that some will not live long. Whatever has been done to them is fatal. The most she can do is make them comfortable before the end."
"What purpose were these experiments meant to serve?" Meil'nor asked.
Elda grimaced. "Before he tried to victimize me, the leader said some nonsense about 'helping' Jaffa. He naturally did not explain." She shook her head. "Whatever the reason, it is over now. The survivors are freed. They must now focus on healing."
"Will the survivors re-discover their identities?" Ishta queried.
"That remains to be seen, Den Mother." Elda looked between them both. "I am here to formally request cal mah for those who are expected to live. They are damaged in body, mind, and spirit. They must be given time to heal among their own kind. Only then might they remember their origins and find their ways home."
Meil'nor stood. Ishta and Elda followed. "Then sanctuary they will have," he declared without hesitation.
Elda bowed with gratitude. "I must caution you: any of those Jaffa could still be Loyalists and not know it."
"Then we will take precautions," Ishta decided. "Should they remember that their homes are still among the remnant Goa'uld, we will convince them that freedom is the better choice."
"We will formulate a plan to educate them," Meil'nor said confidently. "I applaud your prudence, Kal'ma." He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Find your mate now and greet him. I expect he will be pleased to see you. You may both suspend your duties for the day if that is your wish."
Elda nodded. "I will first inform my human leadership of your cooperation. They will contact you directly to make arrangements."
"Send my regards to your father, Kal'ma."
"And mine to your mothers," Ishta added.
"I shall. Thank you."
"Shal kek," he dismissed her with a gentle tone.
Elda bowed and left the hall.
When the door shut, Ishta looked at her counterpart meaningfully. "We must raise her station."
"Agreed."
"Doctor Lam?" Mitchell called out as he entered the medical ward of the Hammond.
Carolyn turned her head. "Over here."
Cameron caught sight of her and headed her way. He paused before the bed of an unconscious Jaffa. "How are they all doing?" he asked, regarding the patient with pity.
The doctor let out a sigh. "Not so good," she admitted.
The Colonel grimaced. "What do you need? What can I go out and get you?"
"Well… a geneticist would be great. But I can't say I know of any who specializes in Jaffa physiology. Do you?"
"A geneticist? You mean, like, someone who studies DNA?"
"Yes." Carolyn looked down forlornly at the patient in front of them. "We've got techs combing through the logs from that moon now. It's taking time. We had to borrow SG-3's devices from the space station to do some translating into Goa'uld. Now the ship is running that through its program to convert the information into English. We have to wait for someone to verify all of it to make sure it's correct. So far, we found detailed reports about what each of these poor Jaffa have been put through." She rubbed a tremulous hand on the back of her neck. "Based on the rough, automated translations, none of it was good. Some of it was downright evil. They've been experimented upon."
"Damn," Cameron murmured. His face twitched. "Any idea why?"
Carolyn shook her head.
"I can't say I know of any Jaffa geneticists. But I'll keep a look out. Ask around."
"Thanks, Colonel," she said tiredly.
He stepped closer and brushed his fingers along hers. "You look exhausted," he said more quietly. His voice was laced with familiarity now.
"I am exhausted."
"When's the last time you ate?"
"Ummm…" Carolyn peered down at her watch. "What day is it?"
Cameron let out a breath of exasperation at her. "Aww, come on, Babe. You need to take a break."
She sighed again. "I know. You're right. There's just a lot to do."
"I'm pulling rank on you, Doc. Get outta here."
Carolyn met his eyes with an unamused stare. He didn't shy away from it. He met her look with a challenge of his own. He pulled an access card out of his front jacket pocket, then pushed it into her hand. "Go to our quarters. I will be by in a bit to bring you some food. Wash up. Eat. Then pass out. The rest of the medical staff can handle this." He gazed around at the calm infirmary to confirm that what he was saying had to be true.
"Cam," she tried to start in a whisper.
"Nope. Nope." He scooted around her to place two hands on her shoulders from behind and give her a light push. "Out."
She huffed. Carolyn looked back at him with irritation. But her eyes also softened with love for him.
He smiled at her, then watched as she dropped her stethoscope onto a counter and left. The Colonel shook his head.
SG-3 found them a real shit show down on that moon.
"Corporals?" Daniel called, as he entered the lab on the moon's surface.
Smith and Crawford turned away from a data console when he announced himself. They watched patiently as he gazed around, taking in the horrid sight of empty vats that once suspended Jaffa test subjects in liquid.
"Over here, Doc," Smith called.
Daniel joined them and looked at the active display. "What have you got for me?"
"Back when we were on the space station," Crawford started, "we got used to seeing a bunch of different written languages all squished together."
"It was standard to translate almost everything," Smith continued.
"I remember," Daniel said patiently. He had a brief opportunity to see that for himself when Vala acquired a data pad in order to find SG-3.
"Well, we realized that this stuff here looks a tad familiar," Crawford said, pointing at the HUD.
Daniel squinted at the writing on the holographic screen. "Yeah?" he murmured. He stepped forward and the marines gave him room. The linguist reached up to swipe back and forth among the logs. "I can't say I know this one."
"Nah, we didn't really expect you to, Doc. It's just weird that the written language for station business would be all the way out here," Smith pointed out.
"No kidding?" Daniel said, eyes widening.
"Yep," Crawford said. "We stared at it enough. Now we just know it when we see it. We made it a point to hand over our data pads to Doc Lam so she could take advantage while she helps those Jaffa."
Smith further explained, "Elda was pretty good at translating everything out of Goa'uld for us. But there were times when she wasn't around. So we kinda had to pick up a few words on our own. That's how we realized what this writing was."
"A little crash course, huh?"
"That's right," Crawford agreed.
"Just wanted to see what your thoughts on this might be," Smith stated.
Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose as he swiped through the written text floating in the air. "Well, I can't say I have a working theory about how that language ended up being used out here. Not just yet. But it sure is intriguing."
"There's another thing, Doc."
Daniel looked directly at Smith now. The Corporal gestured for him to follow into a smaller lab. Crawford brought up the rear as they went in. Daniel recognized the room from a description buried in SG-3's mission report. He made sure to actually read that file, knowing SG-1 was being called upon to get involved. The metal instruments hanging from the rigging gleamed brightly. Dried blood remained on one of them. A body bag occupied the large table.
"Well, this is morbid."
"It gets a little worse," Smith warned. He led Daniel closer, then unzipped the body bag. "This is the dude Elda whacked."
Daniel contorted his face as he stared down at the fallen figure. "Why are you showing me this?"
"Dude's really tall, Doc," Crawford supplied. "It's been a minute since I met anyone like him."
"There were people like him on that space station," Smith explained. "And those tall folks were runnin' it."
Daniel returned his gaze to the dead fellow in the bag. "What are you saying? He might be from the station?"
"It's a guess," Crawford admitted. "Between his height and the writing, it got me thinking. Then I remembered some things you mentioned about Furlings."
Realization dawn on Daniel's face. He stared at the face of the dead man. "You think he might be part-Furling."
While SG-1 was waiting outside of the locked-up station that trapped SG-3 inside, Daniel had the opportunity to study documents provided by its external buoy. He learned that control of the space station required Furling DNA. Their genetic make-up had been somehow integrated into the humans left in charge of it. Furlings were notable for their height, and that disposition was expressed in the genetically-modified humans.
"Pretty much," Crawford confirmed.
"Holy shit."
"That's what I said," Smith remarked.
Daniel looked back at the console in the outer room. Then he pointed down at the dead body. "So maybe this guy is from the space station and brought his knowledge and his writing all the way out here," he guessed. "But why the hell would he start experimenting on Jaffa? I thought the space station stayed out of wider galactic affairs."
"They do," Crawford agreed. "That's why we were surprised to find all this here."
"Aren't you going back, Doc? To the station? Maybe you could ask them if they know who this guy is," Smith proposed.
"I certainly could. But I imagine Command is going to want to open this fellow up and see what made him tick, if he might be part-Furling."
Smith and Crawford shared a look with each other. "I would advise against that, Dr. Jackson," Crawford said. "They're touchy with how they handle their dead up on that station. If this guy really is one of theirs and we desecrate his body, that's asking for trouble."
"It'll ruin your mission to boot."
"So that's why he's still here?" Daniel asked, pointing again at the body. "Because you two said so?"
The two marines nodded.
The linguist tilted his head, impressed. It was refreshing to see other people from the base respectfully considering the cultural practices of others. Sometimes he felt like the only one who ever cared. "Good thinking. Alright. I'll keep all this in mind and talk to Colonel Mitchell. This just might change the parameters of our mission."
The marines sighed in relief, glad that he had taken their concerns seriously. Now it was their turn to feel refreshed. Most of the time they were regarded as mindless brutes by the scientists on base. Mutual respect was so much better than having baseless assumptions.
Jasuf heard that Elda was aboard the Ha'tak. His guardsman assigned to the rings had dutifully informed him of her presence. He found it curious that she had not come to him directly. Instead, she went straight to see his father and Ishta.
He came up to the ship to find her and ask why.
Elda exited the peltac and locked eyes with him. Her expression was serious.
Jasuf approached her immediately. "My love," he said softly.
She said nothing. She grabbed his tunic from beneath his open overcoat and pulled him away.
He simply followed her, confused.
They came upon the sleeping quarters designed for Jaffa crew. None were being used, as every tribe member had a residence on the surface of Tek'ron. Elda picked a door and pushed him in. She promptly hit the command to lock it.
When Jasuf turned around to speak, she jumped at him, forcing him to grab her bottom to maintain their balance. Her legs wrapped around his body. Her mouth locked onto his, kissing him feverishly. Frantically.
He responded instinctively. His feet stepped back until his legs felt the edge of a bed. She ground herself into him more with an urgent demand. He felt compelled to obey the order. She dropped back down onto her own feet and let her hands roam over his muscled chest as she continued to kiss him hard. His hands reached up to release her darkened hair from its braids so that he could run his fingers through it.
They needed no words. Soon their clothes disappeared.
She made immediate and desperate love to him, hoping to release all of her tension.
After what she had seen and done, she needed this. She needed him. She needed proof that he was safe.
Minutes ticked by slowly. Jasuf didn't know where this was coming from, but he could sense her turmoil. He presumed she would reveal the events of her last mission soon enough. For now, he focused on making her feel everything good there was to feel in order to combat whatever was bothering her. If this would be his only purpose today, then it would be enough. He could be satisfied with giving her what she wanted in this moment.
Elda didn't feel any relief from all her pent-up emotion until he had her shuddering beneath him.
Their breaths were ragged as they finished. He dropped an erotic bite onto her shoulder, right above her scar. His hair tickled her neck when he dropped kisses onto her bare skin. Her fingers dug into his back, keeping his body in place. Not letting him leave.
And then she began to cry, tears pouring out in a flood.
Jasuf held her silently and patiently.
Cameron kissed Carolyn's cheek in the bed. She was dead-to-the-world asleep now. She didn't notice when he carefully got out from under the covers and pulled them back over her bare shoulders. It was technically still the middle of the workday. But she couldn't be expected to function in her sleep-deprived state. The poor woman was running on fumes.
He didn't blame Elda for begging her to take on this case. But he sure didn't like what it was doing to his favorite doctor. He'd have to talk with the Hammond's lead physician about keeping an eye on her the next time she was on shift. Someone needed to remind her to take meal breaks.
He pulled his uniform back on quietly, making sure to tuck his dogtags into his black sleeveless top. Once he was done dressing, he took one last look at Carolyn, then exited their shared quarters on the Hammond.
Everyone knew they were together. He simply told the tech on the auxiliary bridge to assign them both the same room. He no longer cared what it looked like. It was a waste of resources to force them apart when one would end up in the other's room anyway. Jackson and Vala did the same damn thing whenever they were here. Why couldn't they?
He nodded politely to other personnel in the corridors as he made his way to where he knew the rest of the team was. They left him a message to let him know that they'd be in the mess.
When Cameron finally sat down with a tray among SG-1 and Sam, he looked up to see everyone regarding him with smirks on their faces. Their food trays were empty and littered with used napkins.
"What."
"Sam, do you have the time?" Daniel asked lightly.
She pretended to look down at her watch. She tapped on it. "Huh. Mine must be broken." The mischief in her tone was obvious.
Mitchell's mouth twitched. He began to dig into his food. He looked back up at his friends tiredly. He simply stared at them as he chewed a mouthful of food.
"Oh, I have the time," Vala offered. She gazed down at her own time piece. "Well, isn't that strange. I wonder if we both have broken watches, Sam."
"Why?" Daniel pretended to ask innocently. "What do they say?"
Teal'c leaned over Vala's wrist. "That more than two hours have passed."
Daniel gasped a little. "Impossible," he said dramatically. "Cam's always so punctual. Something must have happened."
"Maybe the time dilation thingy on board accidentally activated, Sam. Better check on it."
"Oh, yeah, yeah. That must be it."
Cameron groaned quietly.
Daniel grinned now. "What, Cam, you don't agree?" he asked playfully.
The Colonel pointed a fork at them. "Y'all can shut it now."
Teal'c raised an amused brow and completely ignored his suggestion. "ColonelMitchell," his baritone voice teased, "how fares DoctorLam?"
The rest of his human teammates bared their teeth toward him cheekily. Cameron rolled his eyes. They weren't going to let it go that he had just been with her in private while they were all still on the clock.
It was downright hypocritical of him.
"She's fine," he finally answered after a long pause.
"Oh I bet she is," Daniel said with the most evil of grins.
Cameron shot a glare at him. "I should have Elda kick your ass."
His tablemates laughed.
The weather on Tek'ron was continuing to grow milder. The Jaffa were able to do more activities outdoors now as the air warmed slightly. Biting cold no longer forced people inside during the day. Elda still shivered without her jacket, though. It would be much longer before the young human could go outside without one.
Jasuf rest his arm across her covered shoulders as they stood patiently in front of the governance hut. They faced the village square. He unconsciously fingered her dark locks, twirling the hair within his fingertips. All of the Jaffa minders were there with them, ready with piles of clothes and toiletries for their new guests. Meil'nor and Ishta stood together at the top of the steps of the governance hut.
Elda leaned into her mate, letting him support her weight slightly. This served as physical reassurance that he was safe and unharmed. A click and some static sounded off from her pocket. She pulled her SGC-issued radio out.
"Elda Mal Doran, this is the Hammond. Come in."
She raised the radio to her mouth and pressed the button. "This is Elda Mal Doran, Hammond. I hear you loud and clear."
"Confirm readiness."
"We are ready. The space immediately before me should be sufficient for your party."
"Acknowledged. Commencing transport."
Light flickered in the middle of the square as new figures began to inhabit the empty space. The hum of their appearance dissipated quickly, as did the flash. Both SG-1 and SG-3 had come down, with about two dozen Jaffa refugees behind them. Sam and Carolyn were also among them.
Elda smiled softly at her family and friends. Crawford and Smith grinned back at her. They hadn't seen her in days. Jasuf dropped his hand from Elda's shoulder so that he would be ready for formalities. The SGC personnel stepped off to the side.
"Welcome to Tek'ron," Meil'nor called out to the newcomers. The people of Tek'ron, including Elda, bowed formally and respectfully. Teal'c and the other Jaffa reciprocated.
The refugees glanced around nervously. A few of them trembled uncontrollably.
"I am Master Meil'nor, leader of this village." He raised a hand toward Ishta. "Here stands Ishta, leader of the Hak'tyl and sim'ka to Teal'c."
The refugees looked between the two Jaffa in question, confirming the connection. Teal'c had been supportive to them up on the ship. And now, it would seem, he was handing them off to his mate for further attention.
Meil'nor gestured lower to where others stood on the ground. "My son, Jasuf, protector of our tribe and heir apparent. And our great Lady Elda of Tek'ron, your liberator."
Elda blinked and dropped open her mouth. She glanced up at Meil'nor, then quickly neutralized her expression as she turned back. The corner of Jasuf's mouth crept up into a small smile of pride as he continued to look forward.
Everyone from Earth donned brief looks of confusion. Reynolds furrowed his brow. Sam and Vala shared proud smiles with each other. Cameron shook his head side to side, feeling vindicated. He made eye contact with Carolyn and smirked.
The refugees dutifully bowed in deference to Elda.
She nervously inclined her head back, as would be expected of her.
"Jaffa," Ishta now bellowed so her voice could be heard across the entire square. "You will be offered respite here among us, so that you may heal. We stand ready to support you in your recovery."
"Tau'ri," Meil'nor next called out. "We thank you for your friendship and continued alliance. We invite you to share in a meal."
"Master Meil'nor," Daniel responded, taking a small step forward. "We thank you as well. And we accept your invitation."
Jasuf now issued a command, prompting the minders to approach the refugees with their offerings. They were led away to be shown hospitality by the village. Their first stop would be to a common washing area, where they could bathe with familiar Jaffa soaps and change into fresh, clean attire. Up until now, the Jaffa were dressed in basic green uniforms provided to them by the crew of the Hammond.
Elda stood rooted to her spot as she watched them go. Her eyes remained forward, but her mouth spit out a complaint to the side. "Did you know about this?" she asked of her mate testily in a near-whisper. She wasn't surprised that his father was aware of the joke title the guardsmen had given her. What bothered her was that he was choosing to use it for official business!
"Perhaps," Jasuf responded cryptically.
Her brow raised in aggravation. "Jasuf." Now her head turned toward him as the last of the refugees were led away. "Why. Didn't. You. Stop them," she hissed under her breath.
He only smiled slightly, eyes still following where the other Jaffa had gone.
"Jasuf," his father sounded off from behind him. "See to it that the Head Mistress has all that she needs to accommodate the refugees tonight on the Ha'tak."
Jasuf turned and bowed. He smiled adoringly at Elda in the fashion that always managed to irritate her. He respectfully inclined his head toward the SGC personnel, then headed toward the ring platform in the forest.
"Kal'ma."
Elda looked up.
"You may reunite with your human family. Escort them to the tables when the food is prepared."
She inclined her head.
Meil'nor and Ishta stepped down now. "Teal'c," Ishta summoned. Her betrothed dutifully stepped to her side, and the trio of older Jaffa ventured into the village.
This left only humans gathered in front of the governance hut.
Elda let out a long-suffering breath. She raised her fingers to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose, just under her temporary mark of Moloc. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Soooooo, Lady Elda," a teasing voice suddenly sounded off next to her. It was Smith.
"She's on her way to becoming a princess now, don't ya think?" Crawford remarked from her other side.
Mitchell adopted a sly grin and drew closer to the marines. "I dunno, boys."
Elda's eyes shot open toward Cameron. She issued him a warning glare. The rest of their colleagues grinned at her.
"I think she's slated to become the queen."
Elda groaned. Loudly.
Now refreshed, the refugees gathered together before Elda. She recognized a few of their faces from the holding cell. The kind Jaffa male who released her from her cloth bonds was there among them. Jasuf and SG-3 stood with her. She was in the middle of explaining how she had freed them from deep in that dreadful facility.
"He tried to murder you with symbiote poison?" one Jaffa incredulously tried to verify.
"Yes."
The refugees glanced among each other in confusion.
"And yet, you still live," another noted.
Jasuf spoke now. "Not all succumb to the poison. One must merely be free of a symbiote."
The Jaffa furrowed their brows. The idea of living without a symbiote was foreign to them. It seemed impossible. And they weren't familiar with tretonin. No one had offered them the drug, either. Life-long dependence on a pharmaceutical was a choice only to be made when one understood the consequences. These Jaffa didn't even know who they were. They needed to overcome that challenge first.
Elda swallowed. For the moment, she still looked very much like one of them. That was about to change and she wasn't sure how they would take it. But she'd made up her mind. This was one secret she didn't feel like keeping. She needed to be true to herself, the self that was Elda Mal Doran.
She glanced over at the marines. "Did you bring it?"
Smith reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small device. It was a stick, not much different in size and shape than a child's crayon on Earth. Except this piece of tech was loaded with the ability to change hair and skin color instantaneously. A crayon had nothing on this. Smith held it up for her to see. He handed it over to Crawford. "Here. You do it. I might screw it up again."
His marine friend laughed quietly and accepted the device.
Elda held out an arm to encourage him forward. She returned her address to the Jaffa and gestured to herself. "I do not possess a symbiote. I feel it is important to be honest with you. I am human. Not Jaffa."
The refugees all stared at her in disbelief.
"She may not be Jaffa in blood," Jasuf stated, while placing a supportive hand on her shoulder, "but she is Jaffa in spirit. Her loyalty to us is unmatched."
Elda grimaced, fearful of what was going through the minds of the expressionless Jaffa before her.
Reynolds spoke up now to add his two cents. "It was her idea to go in looking like that so she could find you. Her intentions were to help, if anyone needed it."
These Jaffa understood that he was a man of importance among the Tau'ri. He was one of the first to free them from their holding cells and tanks. They had all observed how the other humans showed deference to him. And so, his station lent credence to his words. They believed him.
"Please understand that I meant no disrespect by adopting this mark," Elda reiterated, pointing at the symbol of Moloc on her forehead. "I have been a victim as much as any of you."
She kept her statement succinct, hoping not to invite questions over what she meant. She still didn't know if there were secret Loyalists among them, ready to return to Goa'uld masters once they regained their memories. The last thing anyone needed was for one of them to realize who she might be: a target worth bringing in.
The villagers had also agreed not to make it known that most people here were on tretonin. They would wait patiently until these Jaffa were secure in their identities and their loyalties before revealing that detail. They planned to quietly disperse Hak'tyl who still had symbiotes among the refugees. This would allay suspicions about why they couldn't always sense symbiotes nearby.
"I am free. As you are now. It is time for you to see." Elda glanced at Crawford now.
The marine took that as the cue to activate the stick in his hand. A miniature HUD appeared as he held it horizontally. He tapped among the commands until it chimed, choosing the setting that would revert a user to their original cosmetic state. Then he held the stick above the crown of her head.
Slowly, and almost magically, Elda's hair began to transform from a deep, rich black to her natural blonde color. The transition happened from top to bottom, starting at the stick. It was as if water poured over her to wash away the disguise. The Jaffa's eyes widened in awe. The color-change reached all the way to the tips of her loose hair, which cascaded down past her shoulders. She'd been wearing it long lately, mostly because Jasuf enjoyed running his fingers through it. She liked the extra attention she got for something as simple as refraining to cut her hair. It was an easy choice.
Baker shook his head, side to side, in amazement at the technology being used. The younger marines eagerly told him about all the cool stuff they encountered on the space station. This was definitely cool, in his opinion.
Reynolds raised his brow. Where was this thing when his older daughters were begging him to let them bleach and dye their hair? He wasn't the sort to approve of it when they were so young. He preferred them to look natural. Having this device would have saved him from a handful of arguments at home. He could have let them try out a new look, get bored of it, and not expose themselves to harsh chemicals just for the sake of beauty.
Now that her hair was completely blonde, Crawford let the stick hover near the symbol on Elda's forehead. The device was still set to 'revert' mode, so all he had to do was show it what else there was to fix. The mark of slavery easily faded into nothing as the device hummed.
He dropped his hand, bringing down the fascinating station tech along with it. Without needing to look, his thumb pressed a button to deactivate it. Crawford smiled at Elda softly. "Not gonna lie. I'm gonna miss the black." He pocketed the stick in his vest, then stepped backwards to be with the rest of the marines.
Jasuf also smiled. "As will I."
Elda turned to lock eyes with him curiously. The corner of her mouth turned upwards. She looked back to the Jaffa. "This is my true self. I humbly greet you as Elda Mal Doran," she declared. Then she bowed with respect.
Smith grinned at her. He had a retort ready on his tongue about other possible names she could go by, but held on to it. Reynolds would smack him upside the head if he didn't.
The Jaffa male who had been kind to her before took a step forward. His eyes quietly took in her new appearance. "Your transformation is notable," he commented. "And will you now behave more human?"
"She stands before you as she is," Jasuf responded on her behalf and somewhat in her defense. "You will see in time that she has adopted many of our ways. She is of Tek'ron as much as she is of the Tau'ri."
"So says your father, Master Meil'nor."
"Indeed."
The Jaffa inclined his head. He looked to Elda again. "Then I greet you, EldaMalDoran of Tek'ron. Tak mal tiak."
She smiled in relief, sensing his acceptance of her. "Tak mal tiak," she greeted back. The rest of the Jaffa inclined their heads to her with tentative expressions.
Jasuf reached over to cup her neck and bring her to him for a chaste kiss. He smiled gently at her, relishing the return of her original appearance, the one he'd fallen in love with. Then he addressed the Jaffa. "Come. Now we shall eat."
"Carolyn, save me," Elda begged. She had managed to step away from the gathering to take a breather. The sun was now setting, casting a pleasant orange-purple gradient upon the sky.
Her auntie smiled at her and sipped from a metal cup. Whatever was in there was sweet. And it was making her warm. They leaned on the side of a hut together. Elda knew who lived in this hut and that he wouldn't mind. "Oh come on, will it be so bad?"
"Yes, it will be so bad. If Jasuf's father is giving me a title, then it comes with expectations. Carolyn," she whined. "I don't want more work!"
The doctor laughed aloud. "You sound just like Vala."
"Well, she raised me. Of course I sound like her," she said under her breath. "Ugh." She brought a forearm to her head dramatically.
"He knows that you have an actual job. I would think he understands that you have plenty of other responsibilities."
"And yet, he still referred to me in a manner that affords me some sort of importance." Elda gasped now. "Oh no." Her eyes went wide. "I can just see him parading me around in front of everyone at Teal'c's wedding."
Carolyn raised her free hand to cover her mouth as she chuckled. She looked over to see that color had drained from her niece's face. It only entertained her more. "What does Jasuf say about all this?"
Elda locked eyes with her now. "He's drawing a special kind of enjoyment out of this that makes me want to slap him in the face," she ground out.
Carolyn laughed more. "Cam really saw this coming."
"What are you talking about?"
"When he heard the men were calling you by that title, he had a feeling it might stick one day. Even if it was only supposed to be a joke."
Elda scrunched her face. "And he didn't think to warn me?"
"I told him to. Didn't listen."
"Ughhhhhh. Men," she grumbled.
"Amen to that," Carolyn agreed, tilting up her cup.
Elda pointed at it. "I could use one of those. Or maybe five."
"Pace yourself, Elda. They're kind of strong."
"I know." She disappeared for a few moments then returned with her own metal cup, filled to the brim with red liquid. She quickly downed half of it.
"Elda!" Carolyn scolded.
"Liquid courage."
"That's a very Earth-like thing to say. Where'd you hear that?"
"Marines."
"Ahh. Of course." Carolyn was feeling a little buzzed. She didn't mind it one bit, figuring this was how she should reward herself after working so hard the past several days. She was, thus, less inhibited from asking her next question. "Anything ever happen between you and them?"
"What!? Not you, too." She sighed. Elda took another good swig. "No, Carolyn. I did not sleep with marines." Then she drew closer to her auntie's ear and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I slept next to them. Not with them. There is a very important difference."
"Okay, I believe you."
"Thank you."
"Did Smith sleep with that girl?"
Elda blinked at the doctor's directness. Maybe the drink was too strong. "The mark?"
"Yeah. Her."
Elda coughed. "Maybe."
"You're not sure?"
"Well… he did disappear a lot. But it was nothing out of the ordinary for us to separate like that on the station. So… no. Not sure. He never said anything."
"Would he tell you if you asked?"
"I think he would glare at us instead then change the subject."
"So, no."
"No."
"That girl was a doctor, right?"
"A medical professional of some sort. They had a different word for it. I could never pronounce it."
"Wonder if she has any experience in genetics."
"Why?"
Carolyn gestured meaningfully in the direction of the welcoming party for the refugees. "I'm grasping at straws here. I have no idea how to reverse or mitigate what was done to those Jaffa. Some of them are in for a lifetime of disability."
Elda frowned. "I'm not sure if she would know anything about that."
"It's okay. It was a long-shot. Daniel just mentioned something to me about Furlings and DNA manipulation on that station. Figured I'd ask."
The young blonde sipped from her drink while in thought. "What if you go to the space station and ask them directly?" She shrugged when Carolyn looked at her questioningly. "SG-1 is planning to go back there. Maybe you could tag along."
The doctor's eyes darted around as she considered Elda's suggestion. "Oh my God. That's actually not a bad idea."
"Babe, I dunno," Mitchell said hesitantly.
"Cam, I need help. It might be on that station. You said the guy experimenting on the Jaffa might be from that place. I'll bet there has to be more people there who could understand what he really did."
He grimaced. "I'll ask for you. You don't really need to go yourself. Earth needs you safe at home."
Carolyn gently grabbed his uniform jacket. She could care less if the other SGC personnel on the surface of Tek'ron saw them. She tilted her head up and gave him a serious look. "It needs to be me. I am their attending physician. I'm the one who has an idea of how those poor people are suffering." She shook her head slightly and kept their eyes locked. "I can talk shop with someone there. It will be more efficient than relaying messages and follow-up questions back and forth. And then waiting days to come up with solutions."
He frowned at her. He understood what she meant. She was an expert in her field, with years of training and experience behind her. He would be of very little help in these matters she was concerned with. He could barely understand the lingo in her profession as it was.
"Carolyn… this isn't some routine jaunt offworld. That space station is an entire day's worth of travel away, even at maximum speed. We'll be more or less on our own out there. The last thing anyone needs is for something to happen to you when we can't get backup in an instant." He reached up to cup her neck with both hands. "You're safer on Earth."
She pulled his hands down. "You'll be right next to me," she pointed out.
"Sure, but that doesn't mean I can completely guarantee anything. We can plan and plan all we like. Shit still happens. And we both know that."
She sighed and looked away. If she couldn't convince the mission commander to let her come along, she might have to go over his head. Carolyn weighed the pros and cons of doing that. Her father could easily agree with him and keep her home. But if he did side with her, that would be a bit like clipping Cameron's wings. She didn't know if that was a good idea. Their relationship was going well. She wasn't trying to screw it up.
It's just that work was making it complicated.
"What about Vala?" she tried.
"What about her?"
"I could supervise her pregnancy."
"You already gave her the green light to go on this mission," Cameron retorted. He knew what she was doing. The Colonel crossed his arms, daring her to come up with something better than that.
Carolyn pouted. Then she tried something out of Little Gracie's playbook. She was almost certain it would work. She bat her eyes at him and smiled primly. "Please?" she tried with the most adorable voice she could muster.
Mitchell's face cracked instantly. He started to chuckle.
She grinned briefly then batted her eyelashes more dramatically.
He pulled her head to his chest and hugged her as he laughed. "I'll talk to your dad."
She formed a fist and pumped her elbow. "Yes," she whispered to herself in triumph.