A/N: Welcome to Decoherence Vol 4! If you haven't read the singular chapter of Vol 3: Utopia, go back! For my longtime readers who are worried about jumping fandoms again, we will be here in Stargate for a while. Please settle in for the adventure :) If you're new here, thank you for reading, and please check out the first three stories in this series!

Elle woke up on the ground cold, in pain, and with a metallic taste in her mouth. Her gut and her shoulder ached, and her head was throbbing. She moved her arm experimentally and managed to roll herself over slightly. Forest. I'm in a forest. She looked around. No animals, no people. Good. Okay. That's fine. I can just, lay here for a second. Get my bearings.

A bird fluttered past her. Looked like a crow.

"'M not dead," she rasped, wincing as the deep breath put a strain on her aching stomach.

The bird flew away, irritated.

Come on, Elle, get up. The voice in her head sounded like Commander Riker. Get up. You can't lay in the dirt forever.

Elle tested her limbs cautiously. I feel like I just did this. She resisted the hysterical giggle that bubbled up and forced herself to concentrate. Follow protocol. No breaks, no visible damage, just sore. Weak. She lifted her shirt off her belly and craned her head to try and see the injury. A bullet fell into the dirt. WHAT. She shot bolt upright to look for it and groaned as her shoulder twinged. She pulled another bullet from beneath her ruined bra strap. The bullet was flattened and crumpled at one end. She picked up the other one out of the dirt.

"What a souvenir," she commented and didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

She did neither. She put the bullets in her backpack and spent some time massaging her barely-healed wounds. That made the pain lessen, but her body still ached all over. A side effect of traveling through universes twice in a span of hours? Or side effects from massive blood loss? Considering that her shirt, jacket, and trousers were soaked in blood... Both, her inner Dr. Crusher said. On the plus side, she'd probably lain unconscious long enough that any nanites that had slipped out with the blood had probably gotten back into her body. Did they even transfer over?

Elle rummaged around in her bag until she found her tricorder and scanned herself. Her blood count was low but not fatal, and her internal organs seemed to be intact. "No exit wounds," she said, rubbing at her lower back. "Interesting." And the nanite colony was still there, lodged in her femur. Good to know.

Now for the glaring matter of where in the ACTUAL MULTIVERSE am I?!

She scanned. The tricorder had no idea what planet this was. Earth-like planet, similar atmosphere, damp but not freezing, she probably wasn't going to die of exposure. No signs of chroniton radiation or anything that heralded the arrival or presence of the TARDIS. Probably not the Doctor Who universe... She switched over to biosigns.

Oh. Lots of biosigns. Lots of people. There were villages? Towns? Scattered all around the edges of the forest, and a larger walled city-type thing due planetary East. There were scattered technology readings. And a big one coming from the Northeast.

She checked both Star Fleet communicators, hoping that one of them would pick up a signal. Nothing. Not even radio.

"Okay," Elle said, glancing at the crow perched on a nearby tree. "First things first. Do not go into civilization looking like a chainsaw massacre." She found another set of clothes in her bag. She put on the jeans, sweatshirt, and canvas jacket. Her boots, thankfully, had escaped the trauma. She contemplated leaving her bloody clothes on the forest floor, but no. That was gross. And who knew what uncontained human blood could do on a possibly alien planet? "Humans are walking biohazards," she muttered to herself in her best Dr. McCoy imitation. She folded up the clothes, gingerly trying not to touch the bloodstains, and shoved them in her bag.

"Okay," Elle said, consulting her tricorder. "Three-mile hike in the forest. Let's go."

As she walked, she ate another ration pack and drank a bottle of water. "Deja vu," she sang to herself quietly. "So much deja vu." She was in the same position as literally twelve hours ago. Lost, again.

"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry," she chanted under her breath. "Don't do that to yourself. Look, look at the pretty trees. It feels like Oregon. Maybe it's the Pacific Northwest and we're just in the past. Look at that moss, I love moss. Moss is good. Smell that fresh air. Mm, evergreens. And remember, the Master knew who you were. The Doctor knows you. You have a future. Future is good. We just have to get there."

As she got closer to what was hopefully a civilization she recognized, she stopped talking out loud. Please be friendly, please be friendly.

She broke through the trees and entered a large meadow. She hesitated in the wide open space and kept walking in the tree line. The big tech signal was only a quarter mile ahead and probably guarded. What kind of technology could people pre-radio waves have that was throwing off subspace signatures? Some sort of crashed ship? Some sort of rift in space-time?

Elle stopped at the top of a gentle rise and stared at the valley below, at the large stone ring rising out of the ground. "A Stargate," she breathed. "Of course." She stared at it. It was bigger in person than she'd expected, aged by natural elements and settled into the dais around it. There was a dialing device with constellations as coordinates in front of it, and the whole area was well-maintained, a sort of staging area for the wormhole travel it entailed.

So, the Stargate was in use. That much was obvious.

"Two problems," Elle whispered to herself. "One, this definitely isn't Earth because this isn't Egypt, Antarctica, or an Air Force bunker. Two, you don't know the coordinates to dial Earth." The little hairs on the back of her neck tingled. "And number three, which has just occurred to me-"

"Kree!" Two hulking Jaffa guards appeared in front of her, pointing their staff weapons at her in a menacing manner.

She slowly raised her hands. "-this probably isn't a friendly planet," she concluded, resigned. "Frikkin' chicken nuggets."

One of the Jaffa barked something at her.

Her intradermal translator wasn't picking it up. "Sorry?" she asked, trying to look scared and harmless. "I don't understand."

The Jaffa said something again.

"I come in peace?" she tried, hoping they had some sort of translators.

The Jaffa closest to her swung his staff weapon at her head.

-/\-

Elle woke up to the unpleasant sensation of being carried like a sack of potatoes thrown over a shoulder. Not dead, yay! Her chin bounced on the unforgiving metal of the Jaffa's shoulder plates, and she winced. Definitely bruised and maybe concussed, not yay.

She tried to look around. They were inside a building, some sort of hallway? Full of gold, full of carved stone, and richly-colored murals. Right. Of course. This was the Stargate universe. If there were Jaffa guards, that meant there were Goa'uld parasites, the Trill's evil, despotic counterparts. I should have paid more attention to biology lessons, figure out how to neutralize parasites.

They entered an Egyptian-styled throne room, and the Jaffa carrying Elle dropped her to the ground. She cried out as she hit the stone floor, dizzy from being tossed.

"Bow to your god," the Jaffa ordered, grabbing her head and forcing it down.

Wonderful. The universal translator was finally working.

"Let me see her," said a double-toned voice.

They forced her head back up, pulling her hair painfully. She was looking straight up at a mythology figure come to life. It was an Egyptian god, with makeup, gold jewelry, and glowing eyes. If she'd had any doubt she was in the Stargate universe, that cinched it.

"Pretty enough for a servant," the Goa'uld said, waving a hand dismissively. "Take her to the quartermaster."

"Wait, wait, wait," Elle said frantically, scrabbling for purchase on the smooth stone floor as they started to drag her away. "Wait. I, uh, may I, know your name?"

"I am Kepher," the Goa'uld announced grandly, eyes flashing gold.

Elle blinked. He definitely wasn't in the Stargate episodes, which means he must be a minor Goa'uld who had died off-screen. The only thing she could think of was, "Kepher, like, that watery yogurt?"

The Jaffa guard kicked her in the side. "This is your god!" he shouted.

Elle hissed in pain as they dragged her away.

They dragged her to another room and left her there. The man in charge, the quartermaster, was a human, but he had definitely drunk the Kool-Aid. He gave the standard, "You are privileged to have come here to serve our grand and powerful god, etc, etc," recruitment speech, finishing with, "And you could be worthy enough to serve at the tables if we get rid of those awful clothes and fix your hair, and your posture."

You try dying twice in two days and see how your posture is, Elle sniped back silently.

The quartermaster, Amun-something, hollered for someone called Kasha. Kasha was an old woman who took one look at Elle and wrinkled her nose. "Could be passable," Kasha said. "Come." She grabbed Elle by the arm and dragged her away.

Elle was getting really tired of being dragged places. "Hey, no, I didn't agree to this-" she started, digging in her heels.

Kasha literally boxed her ears. "Don't talk back to your elders, fool child," she said sternly, dragging her along. "This is a privilege, much better than marrying an idiot man from one of the villages. You should be grateful you were chosen to serve in the court of Kepher."

Elle swallowed down her scathing replies. She was in no condition to make a break for it. Wait for the right time, her inner Spock counseled. You cannot make a plan without a clear mind. Given that her headache was making the lights go wibbly, she decided Spock was right.

Kasha led her to the women's servants' quarters and handed her over to another group of older women, who escorted her to a spa with a pool, a steam room, and a bathtub. Everything and everyone she'd seen so far had been sparkling clean. They were taking the saying 'cleanliness is close to godliness' literally.

One of the older women pulled the backpack off Elle's shoulders and set it to the side. Another woman started pulling off Elle's jacket. "Whoa, hey, wait a second," Elle started anxiously. "I can undress myself, I know how to shower-"

They ignored her.

Growing up on the Enterprise, Elle was not shy and was no stranger to bodies in all shapes and sizes, but being scrubbed down by a group of other women was not what she was expecting, and gave her sudden sympathy for Daniel Jackson, who'd also been submitted to this slightly humiliating experience if the Stargate movie was to be believed.

She was bathed within an inch of her life, her legs and armpits waxed, and her eyebrows plucked. They were quick, efficient, and completely impersonal about it. They were also completely ignoring Elle's backpack in the corner, which meant that the perception filter on it was working. Hopefully, she could scoop it up and keep it with her.

They dressed her in flowing cotton tunics, leather sandals, and a whole bunch of gold jewelry. One of the women braided her hair, wrapping gold threads into it, and another woman applied makeup to Elle's face. "There," said Kasha approvingly. "She is good enough."

"Good enough for what?" Elle asked warily.

Kasha patted her on the arm. "To serve food, to present tribute from worshippers, to be a thing of beauty, to praise our god. No harm will come to you. If you obey our god."

Elle swallowed hard, barely reassured.

They led her back to the main quarters, where it seemed there was a whole host of girls from preteen to mid-twenties, whose sole purpose was to be pretty and hold things. They regarded her with curiosity and pleasure. "What's your name?" one of the younger girls asked.

"Eleanor Wilcott," she replied, sitting on the indicated bench. She arranged her skirt. This is gonna get old real fast.

"El-Anur," the girl repeated brightly. "You are named for the gods."

Elle sighed. The accent did make it sound like that. There was no way she was explaining her name was from the French word meaning... meaning 'God is my light.' She sighed again. Of course. All things went back to Egypt and Mesopotamia. "Yeah. Sure. Let's go with that."

"I am Amiri. Did you come through the chapa'ai?" one of the older girls asked.

"The what?" Elle asked, frowning.

"The-" one of the girls used a finger to trace a circle on the fabric of the bench. "The chapa'ai, from where the gods emerge."

"Right," Elle said. "The Stargate. No, I came by ship."

"Your parents are blessed to have a daughter in the house of the gods," Amiri said. "Are you the only one?"

"I am alone," Elle said and barely managed to keep the tears back. "I have no family here."

"We look out for each other," Amiri assured her, wrapping a delicately woven shawl around Elle's shoulders. "You will have a good life here. We are not slaves. Merely servants. And if you find a good man, you can get married and continue serving here, or live in one of the villages."

"That's your future?" Elle asked.

The girls all smiled and nodded. "I am betrothed to one of the male servants," one of the young women said. "But we are going to stay with the ha'tak."

"The ha'tak," Elle repeated. Right. The Goa'uld language influenced the dialect of Ancient Egyptian they were speaking. She needed more alien-specific terminology for the universal translator to parse. "That's this palace?"

"This ship," Amiri corrected.

Elle stilled. "We're on a ship?"

"Yes."

"We're in the pyramid right now," Elle stated, dread forming in the pit of her stomach. "And the ship is docked on the pyramid?"

"Yes," Amiri said. "This is the home and mothership of Kepher, and we are blessed by his presence."

"Does he ever leave here?" Elle asked.

They all shook their heads. "Not for years," Amiri said. "There is no need. We serve him well, and his Jaffa are plentiful."

Elle blew out a breath. I can't believe I missed the walk up to an actual alien pyramid spaceship, she grumbled. Hopefully, I'll see the outside of it without dying.

"Come," said Amiri. "Let me show you where we sleep."

Elle followed her to another room curtained off by gauzy linens. Beds and futons were scattered throughout the room, piled with blankets and pillows. "And we all just, share?" she asked.

"Reminds you of the village, no?"

Elle conjured up a strained smile. "Yeah. Sure. One big sleepover."

Beyond the sleeping quarters were bathrooms with shelves full of perfumes, lotions, makeup, and hair styling products. They weren't kidding when they said, "Your job is to look pretty."

A soft bell rang through the air. "Dinner," Amiri said. "Come."

They went back to the common rooms and gathered around the low table. Elle watched as the table was set by the kitchen slaves. Two girls dressed in plain, unbleached cotton tunics stayed behind to serve them. Elle was starting to see the hierarchy in this place, and it was only by the grace of good genes that she had managed not to end up at the very bottom.

"Eat," Amiri said, nudging a flatbread into her hands.

Begrudgingly, Elle had to admit the food was good. Hearty, well-flavored, and enough for everyone. She ate as much as she could stand. First rule of survival, eat when you can. You don't know when you're going to eat again.

They finished eating, and the girls began to scatter. Some to serving duties, some to tend the cats that prowled through the place, and some to hobbies. Elle watched in amazement as some pulled out weaving looms, some pulled out leatherworking supplies, and some began to paint on wooden panels. "What're you doing?" she asked.

Another girl, Shaya, looked up from her tablet-weaving loom and waved her over. "We make many of the objects that we use."

"They're not provided?" Elle asked.

"We're servants," Shaya said gently. "We have our own marketplace within the courtyards. We don't leave the palace unless we're on assignment and with a guard."

"They don't trust you?"

"They don't trust anyone else," Shaya said. "There are always people who will hate the gods." She lowered her voice. "One time, one of us went to the village without a Jaffa protector, and she was killed in a riot."

"What happened to the rioters?" Elle asked, drawing her shawl closer to herself.

"They claimed that Ra was dead and that gods could be killed." Shaya shrugged. "They were all possessed with madness. Kepher was forced to cleanse the village, but we have been protected."

"You don't think they could be right?" Elle asked.

Shaya gave her an amused look. "Who could kill a god, El-Anur?" She patted the seat beside her. "Come, sit with me. Do you have any skills?"

"I can do pottery," Elle said reluctantly.

Shaya brightened. "Wonderful. I'm sure you will serve our god well."

Elle took a steadying breath. "What does god need with a clay pot?" she murmured, and the pang of homesickness hit her like a physical blow. She pressed her hand to her chest and closed her eyes.

Shaya reached out to touch Elle's arm. "Are you well?" she asked.

"Missing my family," Elle said honestly. "They're... far away. Out of reach."

"I'm sorry," Shaya said. "But it's not so bad here."

Elle couldn't say anything in the face of such sincerity without breaking down screaming about false gods and slavery. She managed to give a faint smile. "So, how does this work?"

Finally, a couple of hours later, people started going to sleep. Elle washed the makeup from her face in the bathroom, and Amira gave her a plain linen shift to wear as pajamas. Elle took one of the beds in the back corner and drew the mosquito netting around it, draping the bed in a veil of gauze. With this modicum of privacy, she huddled into a ball and closed her eyes.

In the immortal words of The Rock from Jumanji, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. Not yet. You're in a hostile environment, you cannot afford to break down right now. Take stock, Elle, c'mon. You need to take stock. You need to plan your next steps before you can break down. What do you have? You have your backpack full of supplies. You're alive. You know what universe you're in. You're not in immediate danger. You are slightly enslaved, but you're not going to die. She forced herself to think of the next steps. You're going to sleep. After that, you're going to learn everything you can about where you are. You're going to learn everything you can about the Stargates. You're going to figure out a way to get off this planet and get back to Earth. Four-step plan. Easy.

Elle took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She kept breathing, forcing her body to relax. As her body relaxed, the last of her adrenaline faded, leaving her exhausted and emotional. Okay, she told herself tiredly, now you can cry.

She cried herself silently to sleep.