Breath of the Ancients

by Lex

page two, of three

Part Seven

O'Neill studied the screen closely. The small yellow blip was located smack in the middle of a fairly large town. There was a lake to the south, but otherwise the town was surrounded by a succession of increasingly steep hills. And they were going to have to set down beyond those hills if they stood any chance of landing without being detected.

"You're sure that's where the Stargate is?" he asked.

"Completely sure. Is there a problem?" the pilot responded.

"No, no. I just wasn't expecting a three hour hike before we even start looking for Daniel." O'Neill said. "Okay kids, let's get kitted up."

"Josim, you're clear on how to work the radio?" Carter confirmed.

"Yes Major, and on your check-in times. Colonel O'Neill was comprehensive in his explanations."

"Right." Carter smiled. "Sir, it's late afternoon down there, and looks like it'll be dark before we reach the town, so we'll have cover going in."

"How's the weather?" O'Neill said.

"Well it's not that warm, about ten degrees, probably going down to just above freezing overnight. Although it doesn't look like it'll rain over the next couple of days, so at least we should stay dry."

O'Neill acknowledged his 2IC with a nod. Daniel had been wearing just a t-shirt when he was taken, so wherever he was, it better have central heating. Tightening the straps of his pack, O'Neill relegated that thoght to the growing list of things he would worry about when they'd found Daniel and got him home.

Twenty different questions vied for space in Daniel's mind, some important, others entirely random. None of Ronin's notes had prepared him for this possibility, and...wait a minute. Yeah, he recognised this approach -- good cop, bad cop. What were the odds that this guy had made the whole resistance thing up to get Daniel to spill his guts? Fine, he could play this game. He'd let them tell their story, even give them the benefit of the doubt for the moment. But if they didn't give him satisfactory answers to his questions then they could whistle for their damn translation.

"I think you'd better start at the beginning," Daniel said.

"I agree." Lor rested against the table, presumably deciding the best way to go about this.

"And while you're explaining, I'd really appreciate something to eat." Daniel tested the waters, waiting for the hesitation that would give the man away. It didn't come.

"Of course." Lor addressed one of the guards, "Fetch Daniel something from the kitchen. And bring a few more chairs in here," he added. The guard nodded, and left the room.

Lor began his story.

"Until quite recently, our world was peaceful and prosperous. We had no contact with other cultures, but were aware of the possibilities of life on other planets. About a season ago, the portal in the Katurian museum activated. Four strangely dressed men came through. They said they were from another planet, that they were peaceful and they were searching for some historical documents. Suffice it to say, their presence fascinated our people. We were eager to help them, in exchange for learning about life on their planet, Dromeda, and other worlds they knew about."

Lor paused as the guard returned carrying three chairs. The resistance team arranged themselves around the table. The change made Daniel feel a little less threatened somehow, despite the pain in his chest prompting him to be cautious.

"The men seemed harmless. They returned often, sometimes taking copies of ancient manuscripts in the museum, but more frequently searching the caves for new discoveries. Each of these manuscripts was written in a language we could not decipher, but these men said they would share their learning with us soon." Daniel thought he saw regret in Lor's eyes as he added. "We had no reason not to trust them."

"Just over half a season ago, everything changed. The portal activated in the middle of the night and Roshal City was invaded by countless Jaffa. Many innocent people were killed as they slept that night, others were rounded up and taken prisoner. The following day, more Jaffa arrived, bringing with them hundreds of people. And their 'God'."

Forgetting his doubts over the veracity of this whole story, Daniel felt his stomach tighten at the news. "There's a Goa'uld here."

"Hephaestus." Kalen said.

"Greek god of fire." Daniel began. Seeing the blank looks around the table, he continued. "Uh, Greece is a country on my world where they have ancient myths about-" He broke off as he realised what he was doing. He had to remember he couldn't trust these people. "Never mind. Please continue."

Lor nodded. "Hephaestus is searching for a weapon. He apparently believes that with this weapon he will be able to conquer the other Goa'uld and gain considerable power in the galaxy."

Daniel kept his face impassive, fighting the urge to glance at the manuscript in front of him. All three of them appeared to be watching him closely, and he felt a flush rising in his cheeks. He pulled absently at his t-shirt, flapping gently to get some cool air circulating across the burn on his chest.

"Daniel, are you well?" the blond man asked. Daniel realised he still didn't know the man's name.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, the uh...it's just a bit sore, that's all." He replied, self-consciously letting go of the material.

"Let me see," the man stood up and headed round the table.

"What? No, it's fine, really." This was getting a little too surreal. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to call you," he prompted.

"I am Haster. I am aware of the effects of that device ," he almost spat the word, "so I don't doubt you are in pain. We can-"

"I said it's fine." Daniel snapped. The last thing he wanted, in the middle of this bizarre discussion, was one of these people whipping his shirt off to inspect an injury that they had deliberately inflicted in the first place.

To Daniel's relief there was a knock at the door, distracting Haster's attention away from him. A figure appeared in the doorway and handed some things to one of the guards. He brought the items across and placed them on the table.

Food. Daniel looked over at Lor, waiting for permission.

"Please, go ahead."

Hungrily, Daniel picked up the spoon and took a mouthful of the stew. Okay, so their meals weren't exactly varied, but it was warm and filling and right now that's all he cared about.

"Ever since the Goa'uld and his soldiers arrived, we have been fighting to get rid of them. A few Dromedans are helping us, and we have learned much from those who have access to the Goa'uld's inner circle. Most importantly, we know why the Goa'uld came here. According to those manuscripts, there is a weapon hidden in the mountains that can kill a Goa'uld without leaving a mark on the host body."

Daniel's alarm bells started ringing again, "How do you know that? I haven't completed the translation yet, and the small part I have finished is unclear. And I know Ronin didn't finish it for you either."

"I apologise that we may have misled you a little, Daniel. Ronin was a Dromedan -- he did all of his translation work for Hephaestus on their planet. It was his work that led to Hephaestus moving here, and Ronin felt extremely guilty about that. He managed to work with our operatives and smuggle information through the Stargate out to the resistance. We have his journals, and the originals of the documents he worked on; we left subtly altered copies in their place. The manuscript you're translating now is the one that describes the weapon. Ronin told us about it, but he refused to write anything down in case Hephaestus saw it. And when Hephaestus realised he would get no more information out of him, Ronin was executed."

Daniel swallowed a mouthful of stew, "But that doesn't make sense, how did Hephaestus know about the weapon in the first place if Ronin didn't tell him?"

"From what we've learned, Hephaestus has known all along about the weapon's existence. Apparently it was used a very long time ago by the Ancients against a particularly aggressive Goa'uld. But they used it only once, and then hid it away." Kalen said. "Hephaestus has been searching for it for a long time -- he wants to use the weapon to kill the system lords and gain tremendous power."

"So why would Hephaestus kill the only person who could lead him to what he wanted?" Daniel pressed.

"He was furious that Ronin refused to work any more," Kalen said.

"Are you absolutely sure that he's dead?" At the confused looks around the table, Daniel clarified. "The Goa'uld have something called a sarcophagus. It's used to heal people, and can sometimes bring people back from the dead."

"We're sure," Kalen said quickly. "His mutilated body was put on display outside the Katurian for several days to discourage others from defying their 'God'."

Daniel grimaced, the image in his head making him regret having to ask the question.

Lor nodded, "Hephaestus believes he now knows enough to be able to find and use the weapon, without having to finish translating the last few documents. He is using our people and the Dromedans to search the mountains surrounding Roshal City. Eventually he will find what he is looking for. Although he knows there are others who could translate the final documents for him."

"And that is how we know about you, Daniel," Kalen added.

Daniel looked up from his plate in surprise. "Me? I've never heard of Hephaestus. What on earth would he know about me?"

"The Tau'ri have been a constant source of irritation to the Goa'uld. And there are some among your people who have been more... bothersome than most." Lor wore an expression of grim satisfaction that reassured Daniel just a little bit more. "Hephaestus has spies working with the system lords -- they would be surprised by how much he knows about them. And in turn, we have gained that knowledge. We know Hephaestus did not want to raise the suspicions of the system lords by taking you to complete Ronin's work."

"What, so you decided to kidnap me instead?" Daniel put down his spoon and pushed his plate away. "Since you obviously know that we're fighting the Goa'uld, then why the hell didn't you just ask for our help?"

"Daniel, we've learnt a lot about the Goa'uld in the short time Hephaestus has been on our planet. But the information we have about the Tau'ri isn't enough to convince us that your people won't try to take over where Hephaestus left off. We could not take the risk. In the unlikely event that they ever came across your team, our people were instructed only to bring you back and ensure they weren't followed. The team that discovered you on Dromeda were there only to collect Ronin's hidden documents. They were taken by surprise."

"They weren't the only ones," Daniel muttered.

"Daniel, the only way we can find the weapon before Hephaestus does is for you to finish the translations." Haster said.

"And what will you do with it once you find it?" Daniel asked.

"We will use it to defeat Hephaestus, what else?" Lor said, frowning at the question.

Daniel hesitated before answering. He could think of a hundred things that could be done when you had such a powerful weapon. And even though this story sounded plausible so far, there were a few areas that were still bothering him. Such as how a Goa'uld who had been kept away from the system lords for so long could know so much about current events. And how the 'extraction' team just happened to run into SG-1 on Dromeda. And why the hell these people hadn't just asked for their help in the first place. Daniel's head hurt. He may just be the ideal kidnap victim -- smart enough to help his captors out with everything they wanted, but not smart enough to be able to see the holes in their story. All this talk of defeating the Goa'uld seemed perfectly plausible to Daniel, but his tactical experience was limited to watching Jack, Sam and Teal'c work. Any one of them would know instantly whether these people were telling the truth.

Studying the three people sitting across from him, all Daniel could see were the expectant faces of people who might be just about to see their last chance slip away. And if their story was true and he refused to help them, they would be forced to fall back on the previous plan. Which Daniel remembered wasn't exactly a pleasant experience.

"If what you've told me is true, and I agree to help you, then things have to change. I don't need to be guarded constantly, or locked up any more. And I want to contact my friends."

"Daniel, we cannot let you leave here. If Hephaestus discovers where you are and manages to take you then we may never defeat him." Lor said firmly.

"But if you let me bring the rest of my team here, then together we can help you a lot more." Daniel countered. "If you know anything about us, you must at least know that we've been fairly successful in fighting the Goa'uld."

"No Daniel, it's out of the question. The situation is far too precarious for us to risk it. You will remain here under our protection until you've completed your task," Lor said resolutely.

"I don't need or want your 'protection'." Daniel objected, incredulous. "How can you expect me to believe you or trust you if you continue to hold me prisoner?"

"You're not a prisoner, you're just here to help us." Lor countered.

"If I'm not a prisoner, then let me go home," Daniel pushed.

The three looked at each other. None of them answered.

"Right. That's what I thought." Daniel put his head in his hands, disgusted with himself at almost falling for it, for believing the whole rotten story.

Lor stood up and addressed the guards, "Return him to his room. Daniel, we will speak again when the three of us have discussed this."

The guards moved towards him, one readying the handcuffs. Oh no, this was way too much. Daniel went ballistic. He sprang furiously from his chair, stumbling back as far away from the guard as he could. When he hit the wall, he held his hands in front of him as if that would stop them moving any closer. Astoundingly, it worked.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He cried in disbelief. "You tell me all this stuff about a Goa'uld invasion and the resistance, expect me to trust you when you won't trust me, and you think you can still treat me like this!"

"Daniel, please calm down," Lor said, signalling the guards away. "It is important that we have your co-operation and we must discuss your requests. If it is acceptable, you will remain here and we will return when we have reached a decision."

Daniel's eyes flicked between Lor and the guards. Well, that was a small concession, let's see if he could get a bigger one.

"Fine. But take the guards with you -- I want to be sure that nobody's going to try to persuade me again while you're off thinking."

Lor nodded in agreement. "We will return shortly."

He signalled the guards and they all left the room. Daniel gave a wry smile when he heard the lock click securely.

Part Eight

O'Neill blew on his hands, rubbing them together to keep his fingers nimble. He was extremely glad they'd found this spot. From this small gloomy alley they could observe the building that housed the Stargate without being spotted, while sheltering from the biting wind. They'd been here for about an hour, and had watched gradually dwindling numbers of people coming and going on their unknown business. It was fully dark now and, as Carter had predicted, the temperature had dropped considerably.

While the building was fairly elaborate, it didn't look to O'Neill like any kind of temple they had come across before. There weren't enough of the extravagances that the Goa'uld were so fond of, and it was way too small, although there were definitely enough Jaffa patrolling to indicate there was something or someone important inside. O'Neill retreated further down the alley, signalling the others should follow him.

"Okay, there's a few things here that just aren't adding up," he began in a low voice. "First, if this is where the Goa'uld is then he's either not the pretentious type that we're used to, or this place wasn't built with him in mind. And for that matter, this whole town seems like one big contradiction. If the Goa'uld is their god then shouldn't there be more signs of it?"

Carter's nod was barely visible in the dim illumination reaching them from the street beyond. "I agree sir, the situation here is definitely not what we would expect from a civilisation where a Goa'uld has been in residence for hundreds of years. The people seem more technologically advanced."

"And also more fearful than would be expected," Teal'c murmured.

"What do you mean?" O'Neill asked quietly.

"A people that have spent their lives subjugated by the Goa'uld are accepting of their circumstances. Beyond that -- they worship them as gods. Those we have observed here so far appear to be on edge, apparently afraid their simplest action may be misconstrued and will invoke punishment." Teal'c explained.

"There are other inconsistencies, sir. The mining operation we saw in the hills looks like it was only started very recently. There's no evidence of any kind of ore processing -- it looks more like they're searching for something than mining," Carter whispered.

O'Neill looked back down the alley at the brightly lit street. "I want to find out everything we can about that building. We'll split up and check out all possible entrances. Carter, you take south, Teal'c east. Keep in touch -- check-in every ten minutes. If comms isn't possible, meet back here in thirty. Let's go."

Teal'c led the way. They crept out of the back end of the alley one at a time. O'Neill kept watch as the other two moved stealthily through the darkened streets. Then he began his own journey to the west of the building.

Whether it was fear that kept the people in their houses, or the lateness of the hour, O'Neill was grateful that the only locals he needed to avoid were Jaffa patrols.

The first check-in passed with no incident, the others taking an equally vigilant and cautious approach. By the second check-in, Teal'c had reached his destination, and found an appropriate hiding place from which to make his observations. Carter was stuck for a few minutes while a Jaffa patrol interrogated one of the citizens, caught on the streets after an apparently severely enforced curfew. She hadn't said what happened to the man, but O'Neill didn't need much of an imagination to come up with a half dozen possibilities, none of them pleasant.

O'Neill ducked into a narrow street to avoid yet another patrol. Just how many damn Jaffa were there in this town? He pulled up short as he saw movement about thirty yards ahead of him. He merged silently with the shadows of the house he was passing, narrowed his eyes as he tried to identify what he saw.

This was definitely not another patrol. Three people dressed in dark clothing moved furtively toward the far end of the street. One carried something in a bag slung over his shoulder, and all three held silver-coloured weapons which glinted in the patchy light. O'Neill moved a little closer, concealing himself once more as the group came to a standstill next to the crumbling building on the corner. The one with the bag knelt down and removed something from it, the others remaining watchful. The bag man placed the item on the ground at the base of the building, apparently making some adjustments. At his signal, they all retreated rapidly into the dim camouflage of a building only fifteen yards from O'Neill's position. He remained still, observing silently.

O'Neill's intense concentration on the events unfolding in front of him was shattered by Carter's voice in his earpiece.

"Carter here sir, I've reached the south side," the major's hushed tones came through as if she were standing right next to him.

O'Neill acknowledged her with two clicks on his radio.

"Is your situation safe, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked quietly.

Two more clicks.

"Understood, sir. Check back in ten, Carter out."

Peace resumed. The scene had not changed. After a couple of minutes O'Neill's attention shifted to the end of the street. The familiar sound of marching boots reached him. It sounded like an entire platoon. He cursed inwardly, immediately running through the options available to him if they were to head this way.

The first of the enemy turned the corner, came level with the hidden object. Then the calm of the night exploded in fire and noise. Lethally sharp fragments flew in all directions. The front of the building gave way with a thunderous roar, bringing several tonnes of brick and stone crashing to the ground. The biting wind blew the lingering dust away, allowing a clear view of the devastation. A dusty hand encased in armour was the only evidence of what had once been a Jaffa patrol.

Stunned, O'Neill saw the three perpetrators of this action head back in his direction a few yards, before disappearing down another alleyway. Jack paused only a moment, shaking his head in a vain attempt to reduce the ringing in his ears, before he followed them. He allowed them to get a safe distance ahead of him before using his radio.

"Carter, Teal'c, I'm guessing you heard that explosion. Some of the locals just took out a Jaffa patrol and I'm tailing them as we speak. I want you to forget about that building and follow. Whoever these people are, they're obviously working against the Goa'uld, and that could help us. You're going to have to catch up -- I'm not letting them out of my sight."

O'Neill received their acknowledgements and returned his full attention to the swiftly moving group ahead of him. Whoever they were, they had obviously not been doing this for long. They may be able to avoid poorly trained Jaffa patrols, but a good lesson in basic E&E skills wouldn't go amiss if they wanted to lose an experienced Air Force colonel.

Daniel was at a loss. Not a single minute he'd been forced to spend in this room so far had been wasted, and suddenly he was alone with no instructions and no guards. Alone. He was alone. //Wouldn't now be a good time to get the heck out of Dodge?//

He scanned the room. Both doors were locked, and the only other potential exit was through the windows. Now that Daniel had a chance to study them without the guards breathing down his neck, he could see they were definitely too small to fit a fully grown archaeologist through, even one who'd been half starved for the last few days. But they did have another use. Daniel dragged the table across the room, gingerly standing on it to take his first look at this planet. What he saw didn't satisfy his curiosity in any way. It was pitch dark outside. Even cupping his hands around his eyes to shut out the light from the room didn't improve the situation. Undeterred, Daniel jumped down and searched the room for something resembling a light switch. He found nothing on the featureless walls, and could see no hidden panels that might be hiding the controls. Squinting up at the lights themselves didn't help either. Short of throwing something at the fittings, there appeared to be no way to reduce the brightness in here.

Frustrated, Daniel folded his arms across his chest. He winced as the blistered skin made its presence felt. Tentatively he lifted his t-shirt to inspect the damage, gritting his teeth as he ran his fingers lightly over the uneven red surface. Well that would explain the pain. He gently lowered the shirt again and resolved to ask for some treatment as soon as his captors returned.

If circumstances really did improve then he would have to stop referring to these people as his captors. Perhaps his hosts? Nope, definitely not. A shudder ran through him at the connotations of that once innocuous word. Friends was definitely out. Maybe allies? No, they'd made it perfectly clear that wasn't how this was going to work. So Dr. Jackson, all those linguistic skills and you can't come up with a simple collective noun to describe people who've kidnapped you, forced you to work, denied you food, kept you locked up and chained at every opportunity, and who now say they're sorry and could we all be nice to each other?

He smiled. This definitely had to go down as one of the stranger situations he'd been in. Daniel picked up the mug from the table and drained what remained of his water. Putting it back down, he began to pace around the quiet room, suddenly impatient for something to happen.

As if on cue, something did. The door opened and the leaders -- leaders? yes that would do -- returned. Daniel faced them, a little nervous. Was this how the accused felt when the jury came back? They'd been gone maybe fifteen minutes at most -- was that good or bad? It was only when the door closed and Daniel realised no guards were following that the thrumming tension in his shoulders began to dissipate.

"We have discussed your requests Daniel, and we are in agreement," Lor said. "We need your help. We do not wish you to feel like a prisoner, yet we must ask you to stay and assist us. If you need anything, then ask and we will do our best to accommodate you."

Daniel let out a long breath. This was definitely a step in the right direction. He could still hear the underlying threat that radiated from Lor as if he were shouting. He knew Jack and Sam would understand that in their logical military way. But even from a humanitarian perspective, Daniel could see the dilemma. These people were desperate, and it appeared to them that using Daniel was the only way they could solve their problems.

"If you're ready to listen to my requests, then be prepared -- I have quite a few," he said.

Lor nodded, "Go on."

"Firstly, no guards. And no cuffs. I'm quite capable of walking between one room and another without an armed escort. If you must accompany me, then one of you is all I'm willing to accept."

"Agreed."

"I'd like an improvement in the accommodations, the room is less than-"

Lor interrupted him, "That is being rectified at the moment, Daniel."

"Oh," Daniel said, caught slightly off guard. He forced himself to move down his mental list. It was difficult -- he was exceptionally tired and his brain felt almost as fried as his chest. "Uh, right. I also want to go outside and get some fresh air. I haven't seen anything of this planet of yours, and I think it would be nice to take a look at what it is I'm supposed to be helping you win back."

"Tomorrow, Daniel. It is dark now, and cold. But a walk will be arranged in the morning," Lor assured him, the beginnings of a smile forming on his face.

Daniel braced himself for the response to his last request. "And I want to contact my friends. At the very least, I need to let them know I'm alright."

The smile vanished from Lor's face. "I'm sorry Daniel, we can't do that."

"Why not?" Daniel couldn't keep the belligerent tone from his voice.

"Every time we have used the Stargate it has been at great risk. We've only been able to use it at all because we knew the times the Jaffa would check it. But now it is guarded all of the time. We don't yet know the reason for this change -- it could be something that we've done or it could simply be Hephaestus getting more security conscious. Regardless, the only way we'll be able to use the Stargate again is if we defeat Hephaestus."

Daniel's heart sank at the implications. The only way he would be able to get home was if Hephaestus was defeated. And that could only happen if he translated the necessary manuscripts. They finally had him. Unless he wanted to stay on this planet for the rest of his life, he had to help these people.

"Look, I'm tired. I'll help you, I'll translate your manuscripts but I'm not doing any more today. I need to get some sleep, and then I can start again in the morning." Daniel said, removing his glasses as if to emphasise his point.

"Of course," Lor agreed. "Haster will show you to your room."

"And I will treat your injury," Haster added, unlocking the main door and leading the way into the corridor.

Daniel followed Haster, leaving the other two in the translation room. To his surprise he was led through several unfamiliar corridors and up one level before Haster opened a door to the left, gesturing Daniel inside.

This room was a vast improvement on his previous 'quarters'. There was a bed to one side, with proper sheets and blankets, a table and chair, and a heater in the corner which Haster switched on straight away. Almost immediately it began taking the edge off the chill in the room.

"Sit down Daniel, I want to take a look at your burn." Haster said, picking up a container from the table.

Daniel obeyed, perching on the edge of the bed. He watched as Haster opened a small pot, and turned to him expectantly.

"You'll need to take your shirt off, I can't use this otherwise," Haster commented, amusement in his voice.

"What is it?" Daniel asked suspiciously.

"Simple burn ointment, it will help the skin to heal. It's also a mild anaesthetic, so should take away some of the pain." As Daniel lifted his t-shirt, unwilling to remove it completely in the still cold room, Haster continued. "I'm sorry about this, Daniel. I hope you can understand why it happened."

Daniel hissed as Haster rubbed the cool ointment delicately onto his chest. Haster stopped, glancing up at him.

"It's fine, really. Just a little chilly," Daniel assured him, knowing this was necessary, however uncomfortable it felt right now. Haster nodded and quickly finished rubbing in the ointment, completing his work by taping a large dressing over the wound.

"You have refreshments here," Haster said, pointing to the jug of water and plate of snacks on the table, "but if you need anything during the night then push the button by the door. Someone will come. I'll leave you to get some rest, Daniel." He hesitated by the door. "I want to thank you for helping us. I realise you think you have no choice, but we have become mistrustful since Hephaestus came here. We are trying, Daniel, and we are grateful."

Daniel said nothing as Haster walked out of the room and pulled the door closed behind him. The archaeologist stood to pour himself some water, and it took a little time for his brain to register what he had heard. He slammed the jug back down on the table and ran to the door.

It was locked.

He thumped his fist against the door in anger, then kicked it for good measure. //Stupid Jackson. What were you expecting -- freedom?//

A light tap on his shoulder made O'Neill lower his binoculars. Teal'c was crouched behind him, indicating that now was the time for a change in watch. The colonel nodded, passed over the field glasses and retreated soundlessly into the forest. He found Carter sitting against a tree, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee.

"How'd you get coffee without fire?" he asked.

She retrieved a small metal object from a pocket, "A little gizmo Josim lent me, sir. Do you want some?"

"Oh yeah," O'Neill took his mug from his pack and added a couple of spoons of coffee granules. He watched, fascinated, as Carter pressed a button on the metal object and dropped it into a small can of water. Within seconds the water boiled. He held out his mug for her to pour, feeling the warmth seeping through to his frozen fingers.

"Doesn't this count as 'sharing technology'?" he asked, taking a tentative first sip of the scalding drink.

Carter grinned, "I guess I managed to work a little charm, for once." Putting the now cold gizmo back in her pocket, she changed the subject. "What did you see, sir?"

O'Neill settled back against his own tree. "Not much. The guards have changed twice in the -- what -- four hours I was watching. One more of those teams has gone out, and another has come back. Eager little beavers, it would seem."

"I've been thinking about that, sir." Carter put down her empty mug, hiding her hands in her Jacket to keep them warm. "It's just a theory, but Hephaestus could have moved here from P3X717 just recently. That would explain why there were no people on that planet, and also why these people don't seem to be used to having a Goa'uld around."

"But why would he have left P3-whatever in the first place? It's certainly a hell of a lot warmer than here."

Carter shrugged, no answer forthcoming.

"And why the hell didn't the Tok'ra tell us about this?" O'Neill fumed. "Couldn't they, just once , give us the whole picture, including all those pesky little details that they know we're so fond of?"

He shook his head at her raised eyebrows. "Never mind. Any idea how long until sunrise?"

"I estimate a couple of hours, sir," Carter replied.

"Fine, we'll keep watching this location until around midday. As long as nothing changes, we'll mosey on down and introduce ourselves to the locals -- find out what they know about this Goa'uld and Daniel. And if they're really lucky I'll offer to teach them a thing or two about stealth." He drained the last of his coffee. "Get some sleep -- I'll wake you in four hours."

Carter nodded. She tugged a thermal blanket from her pack and found a level spot to lie down, pulling the blanket up over her nose.

Alone with his thoughts, O'Neill ran through all of the things he'd seen tonight. Something didn't feel quite right. An idea roved at the grey edges of his mind, but didn't keep still long enough for him to pin it down. Something about the team he'd seen earlier this evening. Perhaps their clothing or their mannerisms reminded him of another mission. No, that wasn't it. He rubbed his hands across his face to wake himself up, and let the sounds of the forest feed into his consciousness. Inspiration would come to him, if he gave it time.

Fraytov worked his way slowly past the barely clothed dancing girls to reach Hephaestus.

"Most benevolent lord, I bring good news," Fraytov announced, dropping to one knee. The Goa'uld waved his hand distractedly and his aide continued. "Our operative within the resistance reports that the translator has reached the document Ronin refused to translate. The operative is certain that it contains the location of the Breath, and expects to have that information tomorrow."

Hephaestus sat up straighter, taking a little more interest. "I wish to avoid interference from these people. Ensure the translator is brought here without fail to complete the work."

The instructions made Fraytov more than a little nervous. "The resistance have turned the translator to their cause, my lord. He may not finish the work for us if we-"

The fire flashing in Hephaestus' eyes silenced the man instantly. "You will ensure he serves his god, Fraytov."

"I will not fail you, my lord." As Hephaestus' piercing gaze returned to the dancers, Fraytov retreated thankfully from the room.

The aide headed directly to the communications room, thinking through the possible ways to get the new translator away from resistance headquarters without an all out battle. Fraytov knew that Hephaestus didn't yet want the resistance defeated, although he wasn't quite clear why. The Goa'uld appeared to be toying with them, more entertained by the distractions they created, than concerned they might actually succeed in their endeavours. Not that Fraytov really believed they could win.

Nodding to the communications supervisor, Fraytov sat down at one of the consoles and began to input his message. This could be quite simple -- if he ensured there was a Jaffa patrol and transportation waiting in the right place, then all the operative needed to do was make certain the translator was outside at the right time. And make sure he was easily identifiable -- the Jaffa weren't renowned for their intelligence. Fraytov completed the message, encoded it and pushed the transmit button, then sat back awaiting a response. At this time of night, he shouldn't have to wait long.

His thoughts drifted to the new translator. The unfortunate man probably had no idea what he was involved in, and he certainly had to be unaware of how many were fighting to control his fate. Fraytov wondered if the man had achieved all he wanted in his life, since he wasn't likely to live very long once Hephaestus got hold of him. Ironically he'd probably live longer if he refused to work. Not that it would be a very pleasant end, either way.

An incoming message began its insistent beeping. Fraytov pushed the distracting thoughts from his mind -- he had other people to worry about, he couldn't concern himself with the survival of a stranger.

Part Nine

A sharp rap on the door ended Daniel's attempts at sleeping. He'd totalled maybe three hours during the night, despite the warm room and surprisingly comfortable bed. He sat up, reaching over for the mug of water sitting on the table. The knock sounded again.

"Come in," Daniel called. He stretched his aching shoulders.

Haster stepped into the room, carrying a tray.

"Good morning, I trust you slept well? I've brought some breakfast -- macaya juice, bread and one of your meal packets." He placed the tray on the table, then disappeared outside, returning with a pile of dark clothing. "I thought you might like new attire also."

Daniel wasn't quite sure what to say. Did he smell that bad? "Um, thank you. Uh, I don't suppose there's anywhere I could get cleaned up, is there? I mean, the clothes are great, but, well you know..." He trailed off, hoping Haster wasn't going to make this too difficult for him.

"Of course. Do you wish to do that before you eat?" he asked. At Daniel's yawning nod, he continued, "Come, there's a place just down the hall."

Daniel quickly stood up, grabbed the new clothes and walked past the blond man into the corridor. They stopped at a door only a few yards along.

"We have methods for cleaning that you may not have seen," Haster began as he gestured Daniel inside. "The water falls from the ceiling and you stand underneath it."

Daniel smiled, "Um, we have that too."

"Well then, you should be able to work this. Hot water from here, cold from here," Haster pointed out two small metal levers projecting from the wall at shoulder height over a shallow basin in the floor. Daniel was surprised by the identical technology -- was this a shower? He refocused -- Haster was still talking. "This is soap, and use this to dry yourself. Try not to get your, er..." he gestured towards Daniel's chest, looking a touch embarrassed. "Keep it dry, and I'll replace the dressing afterwards."

"Thank you," Daniel said, waiting by the door. Haster looked at him a little oddly, then realisation lit his face.

"I'll just wait outside," he said hastily.

Daniel closed the door, noting there was no lock on the inside. Fine, he could make this quick. He pulled the levers and water began to gush from the ceiling above the basin. With a few adjustments, he achieved a steady hot stream. He shucked off his clothes, stepped under the flow and let out a huge sigh as the warmth found its way into his aching muscles. He closed his eyes and let the water soothe him for several long seconds, before he remembered where he was. He picked up the soap and started to get clean at last, wincing a couple of times as the hot water managed to trickle under the dressing and sting his burnt chest. The third time it happened, Daniel admitted defeat and switched off the water. He grabbed the towel and hurriedly rubbed himself dry, pulling on what appeared to be black combat pants and some kind of dark grey sweatshirt.

Haster knocked as Daniel was pulling on his boots. "Yeah, I'm decent."

The blond head peeked round the door, as if to confirm everything was in order, before it opened fully. Daniel was just tightening his laces. "Lor has said we can take a walk outside this morning, if you like."

"Really." Daniel raised his head, not quite believing the man. He tugged one last time on his laces then sat up.

"There's not much to see," Haster said hastily, "but the fresh air will be a nice change, I'm sure."

"Absolutely!" Daniel couldn't keep the eagerness out of his voice. This was ridiculous -- it was just a walk. Nothing to get all that excited about.

"Lor asked me to remind you that we are trusting you," Haster said, as he led the way back to Daniel's room. "There will be no guards and no restraints, but we wouldn't be happy if you were to try to leave."

"I understand."

"I will check your dressing now, while you have breakfast," Haster said, opening the medical box on the table.

Daniel picked up the glass of pale green liquid, sniffing it carefully. "You said this was macaya juice?" As the blond man nodded, he asked, "Is that a fruit of some kind?"

"Yes, they are fairly large, green and round. They grow on the southern slopes around Roshal City, only ripe for a short period each year." He busied himself with the necessary items as he added, "You came at the right time -- it's a well-loved drink."

"What can I say, I've got a good travel agent." Daniel commented dryly, taking a sip. He was right, this wasn't half bad.

Haster's head shot up, a dismayed look on his flushed face. He floundered for a few seconds, before Daniel rescued him by changing the subject.

"If I understood correctly, you and the other two -- Lor and Kalen -- are some kind of leadership team for this resistance?"

"I'm sorry, that's not something I can talk about. The less you know, the less you can tell the Jaffa if you are taken." He turned to Daniel, ointment jar in hand. "Can you raise your shirt?"

Temporarily distracted from his quest for information, Daniel awkwardly tried to untuck his shirt while still holding the glass in one hand and a hunk of bread in the other. He mumbled a 'thanks' as Haster took the glass and put it on the table, then finally succeeded in allowing the man access to the damp dressing.

"It got a little wet," Daniel apologised, taking a bite of bread.

As Haster cleaned and redressed the burn, Daniel asked more questions about the resistance. How long had they been fighting, how had they got organised, were they having any success, what about the other people under the control of the Goa'uld? The incomplete answers he was given painted a picture of subjugation, fear and rapidly diminishing hope. Sometime during the predominantly one-sided conversation, they left the room. Walking through the corridors, they passed maybe twenty people, all in a hurry, all with places they needed to be.

Haster finally stopped at what must be the exit. He took a couple of red fleece Jackets from a waiting guard and passed one to Daniel.

"It's cold outside," he explained. Then he opened the door.

The hand on his shoulder woke O'Neill instantly.

"Major Carter wants us to meet her," Teal'c said in a low voice.

"Right." The colonel shook off his thermal blanket, aware that the feeble early morning sun was now doing its best to dispel the biting cold of the previous night.

He and Teal'c made their way quickly to the edge of the forest to find Carter with the field glasses glued to her eyes, focused intently on the building below them. Or more specifically, on two figures in red Jackets standing in front of the building.

"What's up, major?" O'Neill asked.

"It's Daniel, sir." Carter said, passing the glasses to her CO.

"What?" O'Neill practically snatched them out of her hand, zooming in on the tiny figures. They were walking towards the forest now, the blond man nearer to them slightly taller than the other. "Get out of the way," muttered O'Neill, not taking his eyes off the second figure. As if on request, the blond stopped walking, pointing at the forest in a new direction as if telling the other that they should be going this way. The other turned to face him, saying something in return. Whatever it was, O'Neill didn't care. All he cared about was here was Daniel, standing in the middle of the wide clearing, his hands pushed into the pockets of the red Jacket to protect them from the wind as if he had no other cares in the world.

O'Neill could have kicked himself. Why the hell hadn't he realised this before? The description of the men who'd taken Daniel matched the team they'd followed here perfectly, and yet having seen the Jaffa guarding the gate O'Neill's assumption had been that Daniel must have been taken by the Goa'uld. Well, you know what they say about assumption. His only consolation was that Carter obviously hadn't figured it out either, which under any other circumstances would have given him no small amount of pleasure. Swearing softly to himself, he refocused his attention on the scene below. His totally unsatisfactory visual inspection proved that at least their missing team-mate was able to walk around on his own. They'd have to get a lot closer to get any detail beyond that. And a lot closer was exactly where O'Neill intended to be, preferably five minutes ago.

"Carter, keep an eye on them," he said, returning the field glasses to the major. "We'll get our stuff and meet you back here."

"Yes sir," Carter's voice reflected the unseen smile on her face.

Teal'c led the way back to the small camp they'd set up, and they rapidly gathered all their belongings. O'Neill grabbed Carter's pack, and they returned swiftly to the lookout point.

"They headed into the forest just now, sir. It looks like they're only out for a walk, they don't appear to be going anywhere in particular." Carter said, as she shrugged on her pack.

"Teal'c, take point. When we get closer, we'll split up and come at them from three sides. I want the element of surprise, and I want Daniel away from that guy before he knows what's hit him."

They set out down the hill, moving rapidly through the closely packed trees. After five or six minutes Teal'c's raised hand brought them to a halt. O'Neill and Carter closed in.

"They are approximately one hundred and fifty yards ahead of us, O'Neill," Teal'c stated quietly. The colonel peered through the dense trees, seeing absolutely nothing but trunks, leaves and branches.

"If you say so. Teal'c, head downhill and come at them from behind. Carter, catch them from this side, and I'll go around the front. We don't know if this guy's armed, but we'll assume he is. If there's any sign of him going for a weapon Teal'c, I want you to zat him. Knowing Daniel, he's probably in the middle of complex trade negotiations with these people by now, and I'd really hate to have to explain to him why we killed his new best friend."

As Teal'c and Carter melted into the forest, O'Neill picked up his pace to get in front of the two men. He was so intent on reaching the point ahead where he hoped to ambush them, that it took several seconds to realise the leaves underfoot were definitely being crunched by more than two pairs of boots. O'Neill thumbed his radio.

"Teal'c, Carter, we have company. I can hear someone else heading for our guys. Do you see anything?"

"Negative sir, although I have Daniel and his companion in sight." Came Carter's whispered reply.

"There is no one else behind them, O'Neill."

"Dammit!" Carter came back over the radio. "Sir, four Jaffa have just stepped out in front of them. No, make that five. And it doesn't look like they're welcome company."

"Are they ever?" O'Neill commented sarcastically. "Teal'c move round opposite Carter. Wait for my signal, then we'll take them out."

Receiving acknowledgements, O'Neill readied his weapon and moved in closer. He found five Jaffa with their backs to him, three with staff weapons primed and pointed at Daniel and the blond man. One of them issued commands which the blond man obviously didn't understand. Daniel turned his head and spoke quietly to him, then they both raised their hands slowly above their heads.

The fear on Daniel's face spurred O'Neill into action.

"Teal'c and Carter, take out the ones nearest you, I'm on the leader. We'll go from there. Ready..." O'Neill took aim, "...now!"

He fired a short burst at the unprotected back in front of him. More bullets came from his right, a staff weapon blasted from the left. The three targets fell in perfect synchronisation.

Daniel hesitated only a second. He threw himself onto the blond, driving them both out of the line of fire. They tumbled to the ground as a tree exploded behind them.

With scant seconds to react, the remaining two Jaffa fired at anything that moved. Carter hit the dirt as one spotted her. O'Neill brought him down with a volley that took his legs from under him, then finished the job. A staff weapon fired again, and he spun round to find the last Jaffa face down on the forest floor.

Taking time to ensure they were all dead, O'Neill poked one of the fallen Jaffa with the end of his P-90.

"No!" Daniel's shout made him whirl to face the new threat. The blond man was kneeling, pointing some kind of weapon at Teal'c. Jack didn't have the chance to shoot, as Daniel launched himself from the floor and struck the man's arm in the split second before the weapon discharged. The blast of energy missed Teal'c's head by inches, impacting harmlessly against a tree.

"Haster, that's Teal'c -- he's a friend." Daniel said breathlessly, on his knees now with his hand in a firm grip around the other man's wrist. Haster looked uncertainly from Daniel to Teal'c, then eyed the automatic weapons aimed in his direction by both O'Neill and Carter. Slowly he nodded and lowered his arm.

O'Neill walked across to Daniel and held a hand out to help him up. The archaeologist took it immediately, meeting O'Neill's eyes with a look that told the colonel exactly how stunned Daniel was to see them. Before O'Neill could say anything, Daniel turned to help Haster to stand.

"So Daniel, you going to introduce us?" O'Neill asked, looking pointedly at the blond man.

"Oh yes, sorry. I just can't believe you guys are here! When did you...how did you-"

O'Neill cut him off gently. "Daniel?"

"Um, right. Haster, this is Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter and Teal'c. They're the rest of my team."

"Yes, SG-1. It is a pleasure to meet you. And you have saved us from these warriors of Hephaestus. I am grateful." Haster nodded at them, a nervous smile on his face.

The questions began to tumble from Daniel once more, "So where did you come from? How did you know where to find me? How did you get here? Are you all okay?"

O'Neill studied his friend as he quizzed them. There were some fading bruises on his pale face as well as dark smudges under his eyes, but other than that he seemed unharmed. And apparently not too tired -- the man practically bounced with nervous energy.

"Are SG-10 dead?" At that last question, O'Neill stopped his inspection and reassured him.

"No, they're fine. Whatever they were shot with acted like a slightly stronger version of a zat gun. It put them out for about twenty minutes, but they were left with a hell of a headache." The unmistakable relief on Daniel's face reminded O'Neill that Daniel must have thought himself witness to the cold-blooded murder of the four marines.

"Daniel, do you want to tell us what's going on?"

"Uh, sure." Daniel was interrupted by Teal'c's belated warning.

"O'Neill!"

They were surrounded. A dozen energy weapons pointed at them from the hands of a dozen determined-looking black clad men and women who'd appeared out of nowhere. So much for needing stealth training.

"Drop your weapons!" the command came from a man behind O'Neill.

"Oh for crying out loud! These more friends of yours, Daniel?"

Daniel opened his mouth, a frown on his face. "Haster?"

The blond man raised his hands to settle the newcomers. "It's alright, these are not the enemy."

"We heard staff weapons," the man spoke up.

"Daniel and myself were attacked by Jaffa. But these people rescued us -- they are SG-1, friends of Daniel." Haster explained, trying to calm the situation.

"Uh, Jack, I think it might be a good idea to do what they say." Daniel suggested. "They won't hurt you."

"Oh really? These are the same people who tied you up and kidnapped you Daniel, and apparently weren't very careful about it." Daniel blushed and self-consciously raised his hand to his face at O'Neill's gesture.

"Sir..." Carter began.

"Yes major, I know. We're outnumbered." O'Neill blew out a breath through gritted teeth. He pulled his P-90's strap over his head, flicked the safety and laid the weapon on the ground. Teal'c and Carter followed suit. As various people took SG-1's packs, knives and sidearms, Haster addressed them.

"Please do not harm them. We will speak to Lor," he turned to O'Neill, "I assure you that this will be sorted out quickly. Please follow me."

Haster started back down the hill. Daniel looked at O'Neill apologetically, then turned and followed the blond man. Muttering to himself about trouble magnets and events getting out of hand again, O'Neill started after them, deliberately ignoring the occasional prodding from his new escorts.

The group moved in silence through various grey corridors. SG-1 had been split up, each walking between two guards. Despite Haster's assurances, Carter was as suspicious of these people as the colonel. Admittedly Haster had stood up for them on Daniel's say so, but that could have just been a ploy to get SG-1 to put down their weapons without a fight. Without any further information, they had to rely on Daniel's inside knowledge. She just hoped his trusting nature wasn't being taken advantage of by these people.

The procession arrived at a door and they were ushered into what looked like a library of sorts. The door closed behind them, four men guarding the exit. A second door in the far corner of the room opened and a man and a woman joined them.

"Lor, Kalen, let me introduce SG-1, Daniel's team," Haster said to the new arrivals.

The man addressed Haster, looking concerned. "What happened? Walren reported a fight and dead Jaffa in the forest."

"Daniel and myself were getting some fresh air when the Jaffa surprised us. Daniel's friends saved us." Haster explained.

"And the thanks we get for it is to be dragged down here at gunpoint." O'Neill growled.

Daniel winced, "Um Lor, I'd like you to meet Colonel Jack O'Neill, the leader of our team."

Lor nodded curtly to the colonel, returning his attention to Haster. "Do you have any idea where they came from?"

"No. It looked like a standard patrol, although I don't know why they would be this far out."

"Look, I hate to interrupt, but are you going to tell us why you kidnapped our team-mate?" O'Neill fumed.

Lor turned to him, eyebrows raised at the outburst. "Jack, there is a great deal that you must understand if you are to help us."

"Help you?" O'Neill asked, his forehead crinkled in disbelief. "And you can call me 'colonel', thanks all the same."

"Uh, Jack, that's just the custom around here. Everyone uses first names," Daniel explained in a soft voice.

Haster stepped back, apparently happy to let Lor deal with the problem at hand from now on. As Carter watched, he removed a document from inside his Jacket and placed it on the lone table. He looked relieved. Carter could understand that feeling -- an irate colonel O'Neill wasn't exactly fun to have around.

"We will leave you while we discuss the situation, and will return once we have made our decision," Lor stated. He turned on his heel and left the room, Haster, the woman and the guards following close behind.

The colonel finally exploded. "Daniel, what the hell is going on here!"

Part Ten

O'Neill had imagined a hundred different ways this reunion might happen, but the look on Daniel's face following his CO's explosion was definitely not one of them. The poor guy had probably spent the past few days afraid for his life. Then miraculously his team show up and rescue him, and instead of reassuring the nervous archaeologist all O'Neill could do was knock his feet out from under him again. Nice job.

"I'm sorry Daniel, none of this is your fault." O'Neill ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe away his simmering fury. "Take a seat and tell us what you know about these people," he suggested, pulling out a chair.

Daniel sat down slowly, clearly still unsure why Jack was so angry. Well, O'Neill could put that right straight away. "Look, we're pretty damn glad to see you. But you need to tell us what's going on."

The tension seemed to seep out of Daniel's shoulders at the last remark, and O'Neill saw a trace of a relieved smile. "I'm pretty glad to see you guys too." Then he started his explanation.

"Okay, long story short. These people had never heard of the Goa'uld until a few months ago. Hephaestus moved here from P3X717, looking for some kind of weapon that's supposed to be hidden here. Apparently he's been fairly brutal in ensuring the indigenous population obey him, which naturally prompted some of the locals to fight back by creating this resistance movement. Somehow they found out about the Goa'uld's search for the weapon and knew that I would be able to translate some manuscripts for them so they could find it first." He looked up at O'Neill, "And no, Jack, before you say anything, I don't know why they didn't just ask for our help. I did ask them the question, but they didn't really have a reasonable argument. In fact they haven't had many satisfactory answers at all." He leant forward and put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. "I'm sorry. For all I know, they could be telling me a pack of lies."

Something bothered O'Neill about this comment. Why was Daniel so uptight about whether or not these people were who they said they were?

"Daniel, these manuscripts you mentioned, did you translate them?"

Daniel raised his head, "Sort of. I mean, I've translated one that explains what the weapon is, but I haven't told them about it. I wasn't sure whether I should. They told me about Hephaestus last night and I, um... I was going to work on the manuscript this morning for them." He looked away, seemingly not wanting to meet O'Neill's gaze. The colonel's level of apprehension slid up a notch.

"Because you believe their story?" O'Neill prompted.

Daniel winced a little, "Um, yeah. Well it's plausible, isn't it?"

"Definitely plausible. So why didn't you want to tell them about the weapon?" O'Neill pushed.

"You know me, Jack, I'm a little nervous of giving anyone the keys to the armoury just because they can't or won't think of an alternative to using force."

Ah, so that was it. This whole situation -- knowing only one side of the story, hearing about an unstoppable enemy bent on destruction, knowing that enemy could be stopped and an entire race of people saved by something that was easily within Daniel's power to provide -- it was horribly familiar. And after the experience on Euronda, it wasn't surprising that Daniel was reluctant to believe this story. Not that he'd been quite as willing to believe Alar as O'Neill had. But something still itched. "If you aren't sure you believe them, then why decide to finish the translation?"

Daniel studied his fingers closely. "I know this'll sound pathetic, but once they stopped trying to be persuasive, they just sounded so hopeless. I kind of felt sorry for them," he mumbled.

//No Daniel, compassion never sounds pathetic coming from you. Hold on a second -- persuasive ?// O'Neill's fury was back in full force. "What they hell did they do to you -"

Carter's hand on his arm stopped him from completing the sentence. She gave him a pointed look, and he held up his hands in defeat. "Be my guest."

Carter nodded. "Daniel, we're just concerned that they might have tried to persuade you less... politely... before they explained themselves." She threw a questioning look towards O'Neill. He stared back at her -- wasn't that what he'd just asked?

"Uh no, I wouldn't call it impolite exactly. And it's been much better since last night," Daniel said, evasively. "I mean, they've given me a warm room now, and hot food. The guards weren't all that aggressive, and I'd have expected worse from such desperate people..." Daniel's voice had got quieter with every sentence, until finally he was barely audible. His gaze as he looked at each one of them in turn was almost defiant, as if daring them to tell him he'd done something wrong.

"Is that why you haven't taken off that Jacket?" O'Neill asked softly. At Daniel's questioning look, he continued. "You got some injuries you don't want us to see?"

Daniel shook his head, laughing quietly. "No, it hadn't even crossed my mind. I'm sorry if I made it sound like I got the crap knocked out of me, but that's not really the case. They tried to use fear rather than physical violence. The guards weren't exactly gentle when they dragged me around, but the only residue of that are a few bruises on my wrists. And Haster's been treating the burn, so it's really not that bad. I'm just tired, is all."

O'Neill nodded, relaxing slightly, Daniel's reassuring tone almost allowing the last comment to slip by unnoticed. He was beaten to the post by Teal'c.

"To what burn are you referring?"

"Thank you Teal'c, an excellent question." If he'd blinked at the wrong moment he'd have missed the guilty expression that flashed across the archaeologist's face, but O'Neill was studying him too intently for that.

"They got a little upset that I wouldn't tell them what was in the manuscript, so they started to...um..."

Carter jumped in, the look of distress on Daniel's face obviously too much for her. "Daniel, it's okay. You don't have to talk about it. Just tell me where it hurts and I can take a look."

"Sam, can't we save this until later?" Daniel pleaded. "I told you it's been treated, and we've got more important things to do right now."

Carter glanced at O'Neill and he nodded, storing this latest gem away on his veritable shopping list of concerns over the archaeologist's state of health and state of mind. "So Daniel, you've agreed to help these people to find this mysterious weapon, which I'm assuming they're going to use against the resident snakehead?"

"Basically, yeah." Daniel said, cautiously.

"Well, from what we've seen they're definitely fighting the Goa'uld. There's a town a few miles from here that's practically overrun by Jaffa. And we only found this place by following a team who'd just blown a Jaffa patrol to hell." O'Neill said. "So you can stop worrying -- they haven't been lying to you about that."

"And you can stop worrying too," Daniel responded, his relief evident. "Since yesterday's discussions, we've reached a few compromises. I was given a proper room last night, then a hot shower and a change of clothes this morning. And a nice big breakfast, complete with macaya juice."

"What juice?" O'Neill asked, confused.

"Never mind," Daniel grinned. "Haster's practically tripping over himself to be nice to me at the moment. Which is why we were out for a walk this morning. Although I think that was Lor's idea," he corrected himself, frowning slightly. "Anyway, I guess it was just bad luck that we ran into the Jaffa. Teal'c, I'm really sorry he tried to zat you -- I had no idea Haster even carried a weapon. I think he's even less the military type than I am."

"I am unharmed," Teal'c responded.

"That goes for me too, honestly" Daniel said. "Look, I don't think we're in any danger here any more. The one big thing they wouldn't let me do was get in touch with you to tell you I was okay, but that was because the gate's guarded the whole time." His brow wrinkled as he realised what he'd just said. "Exactly how did you get here?"

"The Tollans lent us a ship, and we came from their planet," Carter said.

"If you can call it a ship," O'Neill said dryly. "So, Daniel, what are your friends talking about?"

"How to deal with you -- us -- now. This isn't exactly a situation they were expecting. They were convinced there was no way for you to know where they'd taken me."

"And they don't know about this weapon yet?" O'Neill asked.

"No. Well, they know it exists, but not how it works or where it is." Daniel stood up and took off his Jacket, then began pacing the room. O'Neill relaxed a little -- Daniel Jackson shifting into full lecture mode was proof that he wasn't too badly hurt. "This manuscript is different from the previous ones. It's written in metaphor, and is full of flowery language which I'm having a little trouble deciphering. Actually Jack, you're probably the best person to help me out with that."

"Me?" Jack said, not quite sure he'd heard right.

"Well, you and Teal'c. It's written in the language of the Ancients, and frankly you two have had a lot more practice at deciphering it than I have."

"Right," O'Neill responded sceptically. "Daniel, before you start dividing up tasks, don't you think we'd better decide what happens next?"

Daniel frowned, "What do you mean?"

"We have two main options. Either we stay and help these people find their weapon, forgiving their total lack of manners when they snatched you, or we take our toys and go home. And that would include you, Daniel, since you're the reason we came here in the first place." O'Neill watched the archaeologist, waiting for the last remark to sink in. He didn't have to wait very long.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't think..." Daniel trailed off, wrapping his arms around his chest. O'Neill glanced at his wrists -- yep, he hadn't been wrong about those bruises.

"It's okay, just so we know there's a decision to be made here." O'Neill reassured him.

"Sir, I think we should at least stay long enough to find out what this weapon is. Even ignoring the fact that we may not be given the choice to leave at the moment, this could help us fight the Goa'uld," Carter pointed out.

"Daniel, what do you think? Will this Lor let us leave if we want to, or is he likely to forget his manners again?"

"I honestly don't know, Jack. They haven't exactly behaved consistently since they brought me here, but I think they'll try reasoning with us first."

"Okay," O'Neill began.

"I know Haster is ashamed of how they treated me, and I got the impression that Kalen wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the...uh...less subtle methods. When you talk to them you just need to remember that they're desperate to be rid of Hephaestus and his Jaffa."

"I understand that, Daniel..."

"They want their planet back, and they want their people free. It's not really much to ask, and if we can help them then I think we should. Yes, I know they've gone about this the wrong way, but-"

"Daniel!" O'Neill barked, finally managing to stop the torrent. "I hear you, and I agree. If we can help them find this weapon then we should do it -- it'll get one more Goa'uld out of our hair, whether he's a danger to us at the moment or not. But we need to concentrate on that weapon. I want to know everything about it. If there's something there we can use, then from earth's perspective this mission will have been a damn sight more successful than anyone anticipated."

It didn't take long for Lor and the others to return. Daniel had agreed to leave the negotiating to Jack. He conceded that the kind of forceful arguments that might be needed would be better coming from someone who hadn't spent the last few days as these people's prisoner. At least they'd had time to discuss strategies -- Jack had promised to stay calm and to offer their help in exchange for complete freedom. Getting him to agree not to bring up Daniel's injuries had been a little more difficult, but eventually he'd admitted that it probably wouldn't get them anywhere.

As instructed, Jack waited for Lor to speak first.

"There has been a great deal of misunderstanding over the past few days which we hope will not prevent you from agreeing to our next request." Lor began.

Jack looked confused. Daniel willed him to keep his smart remarks inside and wait for the explanation.

"I'm sure Daniel has told you everything that has happened over the past few days, and why we brought him here. The situation has not changed, and we are still in need of his help to translate the manuscripts. However, we no longer believe it is acceptable to impose that work upon him. Therefore, we ask for your help. There are still three manuscripts to translate, and at the speed Daniel has worked up until now, it should take only two more days. There is also the issue of fighting Hephaestus and we know you have-"

"Hey, hey, hang on a minute!" Jack ignored all of Daniel's warnings and waded in. "There's such a thing as negotiation, you know. If you expect us to help you out, there's a right and a wrong way to go about it. And frankly, if that 'misunderstanding' speech was your idea of an apology then you've got a hell of a lot to learn."

"Jack-"

"No Daniel, this needs to be said. You people have treated Daniel like forced labour for days. And you're wrong about something -- I don't know all the details because he's too considerate to tell me about it in case it gives me a bad impression of you. But believe me, I've made that massive intuitive leap all on my own. What I do know is that you've got a little snake infestation problem and that you don't think you'll be able to solve it without Daniel's help. In spite of everything that's happened, I'm willing to help you find a solution since we obviously know a lot more about the Goa'uld than you do. So yes, we'll complete your translations, and yes, we'll stay for a couple of days longer. But you'd better understand something. If I get so much of a tiny inkling that you're lying, then we're packing up our linguist and getting out of here faster than you can say 'kree'."

There was absolute silence. Lor looked stunned, with obviously no idea what to say next. Kalen and Haster looked in no shape to help him out either, so Daniel decided now would be a good time to jump in. It wasn't as if Jack had exactly stuck to the script anyway.

"Lor, we empathise with your need, which is why we offer our help. The uh...strong words this morning show that there are certain other areas we will need to discuss over the next few days if we are to move towards full diplomatic relations between our two worlds. Perhaps we can start by sitting down to a meal together and, once everyone has calmed down, we can discuss the next steps." Daniel suggested, deliberately avoiding Jack's eye. He knew the look he'd be getting right now following the 'calm' remark, and this was not a time to show division in the ranks. Lord knows, they'd made that mistake before now -- they didn't need a repeat performance here.

Lor seized the olive branch before the intensity of Jack's rage could reduce it to ashes. "A meal is an excellent idea, Daniel. I'm sure you are all hungry, and we would be glad of the opportunity to demonstrate our sincerity." He nodded to Kalen, who backed rapidly out of the room, apparently not quite as quick to recover from the verbal lashing.

"Lor, I would like to put my theory to SG-1," Haster requested.

Lor turned to Jack, "Yes, perhaps with your past experience we can deal with this morning's events."

Daniel nodded in response to Jack's questioning glance. "Sure."

"As far as we know, Hephaestus is not aware of our base. However, what concerns me is that this morning's Jaffa patrol knew who Daniel was, and they weren't surprised to find him here." Haster said.

Jack turned to look at the archaeologist, an unspoken 'why the hell didn't you mention this earlier' plastered loudly across his face. Daniel just shrugged apologetically, unsure of the reason but knowing he would get yet another lesson in tactics or intelligence gathering or some other such arcane military process once Jack finally got him alone.

Haster continued, oblivious to the silent conversation taking place right in front of him. "It is through Hephaestus that we knew about SG-1, so he is definitely aware of your existence. But the only reason the Jaffa would expect to see Daniel on this planet is if they already knew he was here."

"And that would mean that somebody within the resistance is passing information to the Goa'uld," Sam finished.

Right. Oops. Suddenly the situation was a lot clearer. Daniel winced inwardly as the implications rapidly stacked up. Boy, Jack would have a field day with this one.

"That is our fear, yes," Lor said. "It was Haster who raised the concern. But we don't understand why Hephaestus hasn't attacked by now, if he knows our location."

"Sir, if I may?" Carter prompted. At the colonel's nod, she turned to Lor. "You brought Daniel here through the Stargate, and that's inside Hephaestus' residence. It's possible that someone saw you come through the gate, or perhaps there's some kind of surveillance system that they reviewed later once they discovered the gate had been activated."

The surprised look that passed between Haster and Lor showed that they'd obviously not considered this.

"Look, even if that's the answer, you can't afford to be complacent." Jack said, apparently happy to pitch in now that he'd made his displeasure clear. "You're right about the Goa'uld, they usually do wipe out opposition at the first opportunity. But you should do a few things to be safe. First, check the dead Jaffa for any kind of communications equipment or location devices. Second, start preparations to move your HQ. If you find anything on the Jaffa then that move's going to have to happen damn fast."

"Thank you, Jack, we appreciate your help. I will send a team out to deal with the Jaffa. Haster, can you show SG-1 to their rooms and ensure everything is satisfactory. We will meet again for a meal in a short while. Perhaps that will be the time to explain the term 'snakehead'?"

As Haster led the way, Jack hung back to walk with Daniel. "We need to talk."

"Before you say anything, I know, okay? I guess I didn't think it was important..." Daniel apologised.

Jack stopped and looked at him, a little mystified for a second. "Oh, the Jaffa recognition thing! No, that's not what we need to talk about. Well, maybe we need to cover that too, but..." Seeing Carter turn round to check on them, Jack started moving again. "Look, this can wait a while. Don't worry, I'm not mad at you, there's just some things we need to discuss in private."

Daniel watched Jack walk on down the corridor, now even more confused. No matter what Jack said about not being mad, Daniel was convinced he must have done something wrong. Ninety percent of the time when Jack took him aside for a 'private chat' it was to explain in words of one syllable why he should have done x or shouldn't have done y. And eighty nine percent of that ninety, at least Daniel already knew what the problem was. He was a smart guy, he could damn well figure this one out too.

His heart suddenly leapt into his throat as another possibility hit him hard. What if this was one of those 'Rothman' moments? Did Jack have some really bad news for him? Sam had been looking at him with concern earlier, but he'd thought that was to do with his injuries. Oh God, was it something else? With a sinking heart, Daniel walked miserably down the corridor, barely hearing Haster's chatter above his own churning thoughts.

"Explain!" Hephaestus' demand echoed around the throne room, making Fraytov wish he were somewhere else. Anywhere else would do, just as long as he could escape this nightmare.

"Uh, the uh, the operative reported that our Jaffa patrol was killed by the translator's team, my lord." Fraytov said nervously.

"What 'team'? Was the translator not the only prisoner of the resistance?"

"Yes my lord. But somehow the rest of the Tau'ri found him, and they defeated the patrol."

"What is the name of this translator?"

At the simmering anger on his master's face, Fraytov hurried to answer. "I believe the operative called him Daneel Jason."

"Daniel Jackson!"

"Yes my lord, that's it," Fraytov agreed quickly.

If Fraytov had thought that Hephaestus couldn't possibly get any angrier, he was mistaken. A look of wild rage flooded the Goa'uld's face, and he raised his hand towards his aide, the ribbon device already glowing malevolently. For a fleeting second Fraytov thought he was going to die. Then he was hurled backwards through the room, pain flowering in his skull, back and legs as the floor came up to meet him.

He lay there, unmoving, for a while. He could taste iron in his mouth, probably the result of the blow to his head. Noises were filtering slowly into his awareness, but he couldn't yet convert them into words. He knew someone was talking and he knew he should answer, and...Fraytov was abruptly pulled to his feet by two large Jaffa. They dragged him back towards Hephaestus, who didn't look any less furious.

"You have failed me, Fraytov, and there will be justice. Not telling me the name of the new translator is one transgression. Failing to inform me of the presence of the remaining Tau'ri is the second. You will choose the recipient of the punishment. This is the very last time you may choose. If you fail me again, the next choice will be mine and I assure you that you will regret it."

As Hephaestus continued, Fraytov concentrated his mind on other things, his heart desperately needing to focus on something other than the lives about to be lost because of his mistakes. Perhaps it was time he found out a great deal more about the universe this Goa'uld lived in. Maybe then he'd be better able to protect his people from this monster.

"I will bring an end to this pitiful resistance once and for all. And this time you will ensure the Tau'ri linguist is brought to me, along with the rest of his team. They will help me achieve the power the system lords have denied me for so long."

Part Eleven

"I've never seen Haster look so surprised," Daniel laughed, taking a seat at the table in the translation room.

"Maybe the thought of me helping with the translation was too much for him to handle," Jack said, a big grin plastered across his face. Suddenly the grin faltered. "Hold on a minute, does he think I'm stupid?"

"No sir," Sam said quickly, "But linguistics isn't exactly high on your résumé."

"I guess not," Jack conceded. "Now there's a thought, what do you suppose the snakeheads have got in their files about us? I can see Daniel's already -- 'Pain in the ass Tau'ri, doesn't know how to stay dead'."

"Hey!" Daniel protested, "I haven't been dead in ages..."

"O'Neill, are you not more concerned about your own file," Teal'c suggested.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"There are many things more insulting to the Goa'uld than being resurrected." He stated simply, with a look of feigned innocence.

Daniel jumped in before Jack could retaliate. "Look, we've got three documents here. I've been considering how to divide them up. Teal'c and I could take the first two, which cover the location of the weapon and something about its history. You two can take this last one which I'm hoping explains what the weapon is and how it works."

"Okay Daniel, but what if I run into words I don't know?" Jack asked.

"Well, we can put our heads together on anything that doesn't make sense."

"How cosy -- our first team study group."

Teal'c and Daniel each took one of their allotted manuscripts. They agreed to work separately to finish as quickly as possible, then review each manuscript together to refine the initial translations. For the next several hours, Daniel muttered under his breath, writing, scratching out and writing again, occasionally getting up to pace the room as he concentrated on a particularly tricky section. Teal'c sat quietly, only documenting when he was apparently certain of his translation.

By contrast, Jack and Sam worked together. Jack read aloud, first in the original language then in translation. Sam wrote down everything he said, leaving asterisks and possibilities where the colonel wasn't sure of himself. As the content of the document became clearer, she began suggesting what could scientifically go into the spaces they had left.

The colonel's short look around the room midway through the afternoon revealed note-filled pieces of paper stuck on the walls, taped to the bookshelves and abandoned on the floor all around a mumbling Daniel. O'Neill saw Carter's face as she looked past him to smile fondly at their oblivious archaeologist, who was currently chewing on one pencil while another was tucked behind his ear. O'Neill smiled as she obviously suddenly realised her C.O. was watching her. The blush rose quickly in her face and she turned deliberately back to the desk to continue working.

//I know Carter, I'm damn glad to get him back too.//

By the time Haster came to call them to dinner they were almost halfway through the manuscript.

After dinner, Jack watched Daniel nervously pace the translation room, as they waited for Carter to pack up her stuff and leave.

What the hell was wrong with Daniel? The archaeologist had become progressively more tense and jumpy as the day wore on. Was he expecting Jack to shout at him? And for what?

//Come on Carter, get on with it...// Jack forced out a distracted 'good night, major' as his 2IC finally left the translation room, a slightly puzzled expression on her face. //Yeah, I'm with you there Carter.//

"So Daniel-"

"Jack, please-"

Both men stopped and waited for the other to continue. Jack held out both hands, yielding the floor to the archaeologist.

"What's happened? What have you not told me?" Daniel blurted out.

What? "Uh, you've lost me..." Jack said slowly.

"You said we had to talk," Daniel said impatiently, as if that explained everything.

"Uh, yeah." Okay, he was definitely missing something here.

"Jack, the last time you did this was to tell me that Robert was dead. So...?" Daniel prompted, concern creasing his forehead.

"As far as I know, everyone's fine. You were the one we were worried about." Jack said, finally starting to get the picture. "Daniel, have you been worrying about this the whole day?"

Daniel suddenly seemed to find his feet incredibly fascinating. "Um, well..." he mumbled into his chest.

At Daniel's flustered look, Jack sighed. "There's nothing to worry about back home, and I'm not mad at you. Look, the reason I said we had to talk was because I wanted to be certain you were okay, and I didn't think you really wanted me doing that with everyone else listening in. Besides, how am I supposed to keep up my 'hard as nails' image if people find out I worry about my team?" O'Neill asked teasingly.

Daniel's raised eyebrow told the colonel exactly what he thought of such a ridiculous concept. "And..." he prompted.

"And what?"

"And what about the other thing?"

"Oh, right. Well, since you've obviously figured it out then this can be really brief. I needed to know earlier that the Jaffa had recognised you. I had a tactical decision to make about whether it was safe to stay here, and all information was important -- especially that."

Daniel nodded. "Would you have made a different call if you'd known?"

O'Neill paused. He'd thought about this already, and despite the lesson he had to get across, he really needed to be honest here. "No, the decision would have been the same. But that doesn't make the issue go away."

Daniel looked relieved. "I'll do better next time."

"I know you will," O'Neill grinned. "So, are you going to tell me what really happened these past few days, or do I have to beat it out of you?"

"Honestly, it wasn't that bad. Everything they did was mental rather than physical."

"And let's assume I fall for that for a second, how did you feel?"

Daniel took a deep breath. "I was scared. I mean, it's not like I was living on adrenaline the whole time, but whenever I wasn't locked up in my cell I had three armed guards breathing down my neck, and that tends to make me nervous. Contrary to what everybody seems to expect, I can't exactly lose myself in my work under those circumstances."

"Whoa Danny, nobody would be capable of that, so don't start with the guilt trip. And I understand the effects of being kidnapped, handcuffed, locked in a freezing cell and denied food." Jack pointed out. "And of course the added bonus of an extra crispy chest. Which you still haven't explained, by the way."

Daniel sighed, "I'm fine Jack, really."

"Daniel..." Jack put on his best 'humour me' expression.

The archaeologist gave in. "I refused to translate the manuscript explaining the weapon. They had some kind of device I'd never seen before. Two of the guards held me still and the other one pressed it to my chest. I have no idea how it worked, but it felt like I was being branded."

"How many times did this happen?"

"Just the once," Daniel reassured him. "Lor came in and stopped them. I don't really know why they did it in the first place. I saw Kalen's face when she told the guards to do it again, and she looked almost distraught. It was a really odd experience."

'Odd' wasn't exactly the word O'Neill would have picked, but he could understand Daniel's need to distance himself from the incident. At the time, the archaeologist must have been thinking that those actions were just the beginning of the end. O'Neill knew that if they hadn't explained themselves, Daniel wouldn't have told the resistance anything. And if SG-1 hadn't got here in time they could be minus one team member by now.

//That's a lot of 'ifs' O'Neill -- it didn't happen.//, he berated himself.

"Thanks for telling me. I admit I've been ... concerned... about you. You haven't taken a break all day, and I'm betting you've been hyped up ever since I let you get kidnapped on that damn planet."

Daniel frowned, "Wait a minute, you don't think all this was your fault?"

It was O'Neill's turn to look sheepish. "I don't think that quite came out right."

"Oh yes it did. It came out exactly right. Look, if I'm not allowed to feel guilty or stressed or anything else, then neither are you. How about we just forget about what happened, and treat this like an ordinary mission to help some allies defeat a Goa'uld? Then it's all about doing good, and we don't have to think about the roundabout way we arrived here."

The exhausted but eager look on Daniel's face was enough to persuade O'Neill. "Sounds like a plan. And it's time for all good-doing little archaeologists to be in bed." As said archaeologist narrowed his eyes, O'Neill hastily added, "And all well-behaved little colonels too."

O'Neill watched Daniel nod and yawn, as if finally letting himself relax. Tomorrow they would complete their translations, and be off this rock within 24 hours. And then there would be time for his team to take a well-earned break, to sit outside in the late afternoon sun with cold beers and remind each other about what was important in life.

Daniel was pacing. And frowning. And shuffling his papers and squinting because he was reading without realising his glasses were in his hand -- all classic signs that he was about to engage 'teacher mode'. O'Neill sat back and waited, for he had no difficulty masking his impatience. Though they had reassured each other last night, he knew Daniel would still react badly to any sign he was doing something wrong.

The archaeologist in question looked up as if surprised to find he wasn't alone, apparently only now noticing his uncomplaining audience.

"Sorry. I think I've got this in order now. Teal'c and I have both the history and -- hopefully -- the current location of this weapon. But I don't think we'll be able to find it without local knowledge. From what you said yesterday, it looks like Hephaestus is excavating in roughly the right area. Which probably makes our timescale a little shorter than we'd hoped." Daniel looked toward O'Neill as he spoke, as if seeking reassurance he'd got this part right. The colonel nodded his encouragement to continue. And he made a mental note -- he and Daniel were going to have a long talk when they got back home.

Daniel glanced back at his notes apparently satisfied, and shifted gears into full-on lecture mode. "Okay, so the short version goes like this. The Ancients were happily living peaceful lives, helping out less fortunate civilisations and generally spreading goodwill to all, um, beings. Then they started to come across evidence of someone or someones doing the exact opposite. They saw a pattern emerging that they didn't like at all. They investigated, found out about the Goa'uld, and eventually decided that the best way to stop the 'unproductive slaughter' was to find a way of killing a symbiote without harming whatever host it had taken. Of course, they didn't take into account the fact that without the symbiote shoring up their systems, the hosts weren't going to live anyway, but since when have-"

"Daniel, the short version?" O'Neill interrupted gently.

"Right. Um, okay. They managed to capture some Goa'uld larvae, and ran experiments to find the perfect combination of... chemicals, I think... to complete that job. The script mentions that they succeeded, and gives a few details of the glorious freeing of certain civilisations, along with a couple of fairly graphic death scenes. It also mentions that the news spread amongst the remaining Goa'uld, and this alone succeeded in getting them to stop expanding their empires." Daniel looked up from his notes. "That's pretty much where it ends. We obviously know the threat didn't work forever, but considering the amount of time it did work, finding this weapon could help us out even more than we'd anticipated."

O'Neill expected Daniel to continue, but there was silence. Considering the subtly distasteful wording of this first manuscript, the fact that the archaeologist hadn't launched into an immediate diatribe concerning the self-centredness of advanced races was astonishing. Who the hell referred to the mass annihilation of entire races as 'unproductive' anyway?

"Major?" O'Neill prompted her to share their translation, taking advantage of Daniel's unusual restraint.

Carter stood and taped a large diagram to the wall. She turned back to the rest of the team.

"Based on what I understand of the science, we have a fairly accurate translation here. There are a few words that we couldn't translate, but we can deal with each one as we get to it. Several pages of the manuscript dealt with the chemical makeup of the weapon itself, which isn't relevant here. So to follow Daniel's example, I'll just give the management summary."

O'Neill did his best to look like he'd heard all this before. Despite having translated the whole document himself, there was absolutely no way he was going to admit to not understanding it. But on the bright side, wasn't that why he put up with scientists? And speaking of scientists...

"...which is basically the same method a Goa'uld larva uses to prevent its blood from mixing with that of its Jaffa," Carter finished.

Damn, had he missed the whole thing? When Carter said 'summary', she wasn't kidding.

"Sam, I'm not sure I got that -- could you go over it one more time?" Daniel asked. O'Neill looked at him suspiciously. Daniel gave no sign that the question was anything other than an innocent clarification, but... Damn it, he was getting way too paranoid. Who the hell cared if Daniel was doing this because he had mistaken the thoughtful look on his exalted team leader's face for confusion -- at least now he had the benefit of instant replay. And he was damned well going to understand this if it killed him!

Carter frowned for a second, apparently thinking of a clearer explanation than the one she'd previously come up with. "Okay, try this. Think of a coffee filter. The ground beans and the water are on one side, and on the other is the coffee. What you get to drink is only the good part."

"Well, that's debatable," O'Neill muttered.

"The filter stops the grinds from reaching the pot. It's the same with the symbiote. To survive, they need nutrients that can only be provided by the host's blood. But the blood itself is poisonous to the Goa'uld. So the symbiote creates a kind of filter which allows the symbiote to take only the parts it needs -- the oxygen and some other nutrients -- and not have to deal with the rest of the blood. See here, on this diagram? What the weapon does is effectively block the filter so nothing can pass through. In addition, it seems to somehow hinder the symbiote's ability to create a new filter as well as adding some kind of sedative to the mix."

"Right, so the snake basically can't breathe and it dies," O'Neill finished.

To her credit, Carter looked only slightly surprised. "Exactly. And in its drugged state it can't retaliate against the host either." She picked up a sheaf of papers from the table. "In addition, the chemical dissipates quickly when exposed to air, so it needs to be used in a very focussed attack. We need to get a sample of the substance to take back to the SGC for study so we can-"

"Uh uh. No. Absolutely not."

"Um, sir, we're really going to need a sample if we're going to stand any chance of recreating this-"

"No." O'Neill was emphatic. "If this weapon does what you say, then the only safe time to take a sample of it anywhere is when Teal'c is on a different planet."

"Right. Then perhaps we could come back at a later date..." Carter trailed off, her mind obviously already on the precautions such an expedition would need to take.

"Let's not worry about that right now. We've got to find it first." O'Neill pointed out. "And once we've found it, we're going to leave everything up to the locals. I don't want Teal'c breathing the atmosphere here when they set that thing off. We can just give them a few pointers and be on our way -- it's not like they haven't handled covert-type operations before. We've already had enough trouble from the local Jaffa, and I'm not in the mood to tempt fate."

"Well actually I've been thinking about that Jaffa attack, sir, and there's something a little odd about it," Carter said.

"What do you mean?" O'Neill shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Well, we didn't see a single Jaffa patrol anywhere other than at the mine and in the town, until yesterday in the forest. And that one just happened to run into Daniel and Haster."

"You mean they knew Daniel would be there."

"And there can be only one explanation-"

"A mole." O'Neill finished. "Of course there's a mole. Why wouldn't there be? I mean, who in their right mind could resist the offer of eternal life in exchange for betraying their people?" Jack shook his head in disgust. "And of course, that leaves us with the sixty four thousand dollar question..."

Sam took the cue, "Exactly -- who is it."

They all turned to Daniel. O'Neill knew the implications would be instantly apparent to the archaeologist, and he wasn't disappointed. A look of sheer misery flooded Daniel's face. A look that encompassed guilt, betrayal and yet more fragments whittled off that trusting nature.

O'Neill closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Oh yes, they were gonna be having a really long talk when they got out of this.

O'Neill rubbed a weary hand over his face. He looked around the room at the walls plastered with notes and diagrams, deeply glad this mission was almost over and he could take his team home. Lor's voice brought him back to the task at hand.

"Jack, this morning has been invaluable. I am only sorry that you will not be staying to see the victory for yourselves, especially after such intense planning."

O'Neill leant over the table, picked up a pen and began jotting something down on a piece of paper. "This is the gate address for the Tollan world. You can't contact us directly because of security we have in place, but the Tollan will be able to act as intermediaries until we get that sorted out. Once your people have got settled again, you should give us a call."

Lor took the paper almost reverently. Okay, so that probably wasn't the best effort he could have made at 'opening interplanetary relations', but Daniel wasn't here right now and it was as good as they were going to get from...what the hell? Please tell me that noise wasn't what I thought it was...

The door to the planning room burst open, and another nameless resistance member ran inside, dragging the now undeniable clamour of staff weapon fire in with him.

"Lor, the compound is under attack! There are Jaffa outside, fighting at all the entrances. We've lost our external guard. I think the south door may have been breached already, but-"

O'Neill tuned out any further conversation between the two locals. He reached for his radio; the safety of his team was his primary concern. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realised they should really have focussed on finding that mole. No time to deal with that now -- the damage was obviously done. Time to get their weapons and get the hell out of dodge. He thumbed the radio mic.

"Carter, Daniel, Teal'c -- where are you?"

In a fleeting moment of clarity all of Carter's babbling about time being relative made sense as he waited for a response.

Part Twelve

"Jack, can you say that again, it's a little noisy around here," Daniel shouted into his radio to hear himself over the din. He and Haster had been heading to lunch when chaos had erupted. It was an all out Jaffa attack, and the weapons fire appeared to be coming from every direction at once. Weaponless, they could neither tackle the threat nor defend themselves. They ducked into the nearest small room instead. Daniel had closed the door, temporarily damping down the mayhem.

"-are you?" Jack's voice came urgently over the radio.

"We're in a storage room about 15 yards down the corridor from the lunch room," he replied. Belatedly he added, "Um, that's turning right if you're coming out of the lunch room." Did that make sense?

"Gotcha. I'm bringing you weapons. Out."

//Okay, that obviously did make sense.//

The archaeologist risked a peek out the door, wincing at the sudden increase in volume.

"Daniel?"

He looked over his shoulder to see Haster looking confused and nervous. "Sorry Haster. Um, Jack's on his way. I'm guessing he knows what's going on..." Oh well done Jackson, that sounded convincing. He tried again, this time with a little more conviction. "Either we'll be shooting our way through the Jaffa, or falling back to somewhere a little safer. It depends on how many of them there are. Don't worry about it, we've been in this situation quite a lot." He tried for what he hoped was a reassuring grin.

Haster looked dubious, but was apparently happy to co-operate for the moment. Or perhaps he was just plain frightened. Daniel turned his attention to the narrow band of corridor he could see through the crack and was rewarded by the door impacting with his face.

"Ow! OW OW OWWW!" He scrunched his face up in pain. He pressed one hand against his cheek and fisted the other against his thigh as he bent over in misery.

"What the hell were you doing there?" Jack's tone belied the angry words. A supporting arm around Daniel's shoulders added to the reassurance.

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then gingerly straightened up. He slowly moved his hand away from his cheek and studied his fingers. No blood. That was good. But damn, it hurt like a son of a...

"I'm okay. I think." He carefully stretched his jaw, testing the movement against expected pain. Only a slight twinge. That was good. And Jack didn't look like he was about to yell, only like he expected an answer to something. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, are you up to kicking some Jaffa butt?"

Daniel grinned.

Jack handed Daniel what looked suspiciously like Daniel's own sidearm, and gave Haster one of the shiny not-zat guns. "We've got Jaffa coming in from three sides. Carter and Teal'c are with Lor in the east corridor, delaying them so we can evacuate. We should head down there to join them."

Haster muttered, "the translations!", and then the usually-restrained man frantically tugged the heavy door open. He ran recklessly into the corridor.

Daniel quickly explained, "He can't let Hephaestus get his hands on the location of the weapon." The archaeologist hesitated. Only the thought of Jack heading towards the firefight without backup kept him from following Haster.

Jack seemed to read his mind. "Go after Haster. I'll meet you there after we've dealt with the Jaffa." Jack paused, as if waiting for some kind of guarantee that Daniel would be safe on his own this time. "And Danny, try not to get mugged by any more doors, okay?"

Daniel self-consciously raised a hand to his cheek. "Funny, Jack," he frowned.

He checked the corridor carefully before he followed swiftly in Haster's footsteps, weapon held ready.

Carter threw herself back into the relative safety of the corridor, just as several staff blasts exploded on the opposite wall. A single glance at Teal'c told her just how close that had been.

Despite being inside she could see her breath, courtesy of the frigid air drifting through the compound's east door.

//I thought this was supposed to be spring, how is it so cold in the middle of the day?//

That thought tickled at the back of her mind. Something... She shook her head, wanting to focus back on the task at hand. But the thought pushed further forward.

"Lor!" She called across the doorway to the resistance leader, who had ducked behind Teal'c while he changed the power pack on his weapon. Lor leaned around the Jaffa to see her.

"The day we arrived, why were Daniel and Haster going to work outside?"

Lor looked at her in astonishment. "Samantha, I don't think now is really the time to-"

"Please!" Carter interrupted, "Please just answer the question."

"As far as I know they were just going for a walk. It's a little cold to be-"

"Exactly. So why was Haster carrying a manuscript?" She broke in again, thinking out loud now.

Lor looked confused. "He wouldn't. Those manuscripts are too precious to be taken out of the building."

Carter's suspicion flowered into horrible confirmation. She grabbed her radio. "Colonel, it's Carter. The mole is Haster!"

There was a pause. "Major, switch to channel two." Then the radio went silent.

O'Neill flicked the channel and waited for Carter to get back to him. If this conversation headed the way he thought it might, then Carter had already said too much over the open air.

"Sir, are you there?"

"Carter, this is the last thing I want to hear right now." O'Neill closed his eyes and listened, already half-turned and ready to head back the way he'd just come.

"Uh, sir, what's the problem?"

Damn! Damn damn damn! Why the hell couldn't she have figured this out earlier! O'Neill leant against the wall, wanting very much to be able to put his fist through it right now.

"Colonel?" Carter's voice was concerned.

Yeah, you should be concerned. And upset. And pissed off. And everything else that I feel right now. Including downright scared. Damn it!

"Daniel's with Haster, major. Alone. And I've got the nasty feeling they both just heard you. I'm heading back to the translation room. Stay on this channel."

Without waiting for a response, O'Neill flicked the channel over once again as he ran down the corridor. "Daniel?"

There was no answer. O'Neill ran faster.

Daniel flung open the door to the translation room to come face to face with Haster's weapon.

"Whoa, it's just me." He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Friend, remember?"

Haster smiled apologetically and returned his weapon to his belt. "Sorry, I'm just a little bit jumpy."

"Don't worry about it, no harm done. I thought I'd come and give you a hand."

"Thank you. Here, take these." Haster gave him the handful of documents and translations, then scurried to remove the papers hanging on the walls.

"Right," Daniel put his gun down on the table, and began stuffing the manuscripts into a canvas bag sitting on the table.

Carter's voice came over the radio, accompanied by the echo of staff weapon blasts. "Colonel, it's Carter. The mole is Haster."

Daniel's mind raced. He reached for his weapon. A cold pressure in the back of his neck stopped him.

"Major, switch to channel two." The radio quieted.

"I think it's a little late for that kind of precaution, don't you Daniel?" Haster said in a conversational tone.

Daniel stood completely still as Haster's hand reached down and took his weapon.

"Speechless, Daniel? That surprises me -- you're usually so full of questions." There was no venom in the voice. They could have been two friends chatting over a couple of beers, for all the impact this situation seemed to have on the resistance fighter. Or would that be 'traitor'? The pressure from the weapon decreased slightly. "Make yourself useful and fill up the bag. I still need all of the translations."

Daniel didn't move a muscle. His heart frantically pumped ice through his veins. How the hell could he have missed this? Even with the proof standing right behind him it was still almost impossible to believe Haster was the one.

"Today would be fine, Daniel," Haster prompted. "Unless you want me to just kill you and do it myself?"

//Why haven't you killed me already?// Okay, maybe he didn't want to know the answer to that one.

The radio piped up again, shocking Daniel into moving at last. "Daniel?" His hand automatically reached to respond.

"Now, now, I don't think we'll do that either. Unless you think you can convince him everything's fine without giving the game away?"

Daniel reluctantly dropped his hand to his side. "Look, whatever it is Hephaestus is offering you, you won't get it. He's just using you until he has what he needs. After that, he'll kill you."

"Oh, I don't think so." Haster sounded smug. "I've heard about the kind of power the Goa'uld have, and what I'm getting is only a small part -- insignificant to Hephaestus, but important to me. Now do as you're told, or I'll lose my patience." Daniel shifted his head forward as Haster's weapon pushed with even greater force at the base of his skull. "And you really don't want to make me angry."

The door swung open in front of them, and Jack stepped into the room, P-90 at the ready. His expression was arctic fury.

"I think you just stole my line."

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