Archaeology (12a/30)
Title: Archaeology ( Table of Contents)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine. I gain nothing of material value from this.
Pairings: Gen
Chapter1a-- 1b Chapter2 Chapter3 Chapter4 Chapter5 Chapter6 Chapter7a-- 7b Chapter8 Chapter9a-- 9b Chapter10 Chapter11
XXXXX
Chapter 12: The Unas
XXXXX
14 December 2000; SGC; 1330 hrs
Jack stormed into the locker room. Teal'c was already there, dressed and staring at SG-2 as if it would make them gear up faster. "Hurry the hell up," Jack growled, looking them over, making sure he knew who each man was.
Coburn was by-the-book, solid, not the kind to take risks, and Pierce was an SGC veteran. Griff would swear first, shoot at the same time, and screw asking questions, but he'd have a good reason for it. Freeman was faster to act and to jump in--too fast, maybe, but he had experience, and too fast wasn't fast enough this time, not with Daniel already missing for more than three goddamn hours and an Unas dragging him around.
Maybe more importantly, SG-2 had volunteered for the search-and-rescue. Jack suspected they felt bad for being the first team apart from SG-1 to have let the underage civilian get wounded off-world, but if residual guilt made them fight harder, so be it.
"Ready, sir," Coburn said, and Jack didn't wait another second to push his way out the door, Teal'c's presence behind him and the patter of SG-2's boots on the floor.
Carter was already in the 'gate room when they arrived, and the event horizon shimmered in the 'gate. "UAV has launched, sir," she said, standing stiffly, only her wide eyes betraying how worried she was.
"Listen up!" Jack barked, stepping to the top of the ramp and squashing his own terror into enough fury to fuel them through what was going to be a long trek and possibly a long fight at the end. "This is going to have to serve as your mission briefing. Daniel Jackson has been dragged off by a creature called an 'Unas.' This is search and rescue. Any questions?"
"Uh--" A familiar and unwelcome voice came from the side door as Dr. Rothman strode in, carrying a vest and pack in his arms. "Yes, I have one. When exactly were you going to tell me when we were leaving?"
Jack was still stuck on the thought that he'd let Daniel leave with Rothman and Rothman had lost him, so he said, very clearly, "I wasn't."
Rothman looked surprised at first, and then just as indignant as he said, "Oh."
But then Jack remembered that Rothman had sprinted for three hours to get word back to them, so he nodded to Hammond in the control room and included the archaeologist in his glare when he ordered, "Move out!"
XXXXX
14 December 2000; SGC; 1600 hrs
Daniel decided that that was definitely an Unas.
He experienced a moment of insanity in which he regretted the fact that this was clearly not a Goa'ulded Unas, because then he'd at least have been able to talk to it. Then he realized that a Goa'uld symbiote would have made the Cimmeria Unas stronger, and even then, according to the reports, Teal'c had kind of--almost--been able to push it around. After it had been shot, anyway.
The point was that this Unas might be less strong. Daniel tested his theory by tugging on the rope the Unas was holding--
Breath fled his lungs as he was yanked forward to sprawl on the ground. "Never mind," he wheezed once he regained enough breath to speak, because it might be stupid to waste his breath on talking, but he was being dragged by the hands behind an incredibly strong monster and he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious or where Robert and SG-11 were, so--
"Do you...want to talk?" Daniel said, still panting. "Please?"
The Unas growled, lunging toward him. Daniel curled back up and raised his hands as much as he could over his head. When nothing struck him, he peeked out to see the Unas baring its teeth, looming but not touching him.
"That's aggressive body language," Daniel informed it, settling back into what he hoped counted as a submissive posture. "But that was, uh...probably your intention." He turned his head slowly around to see what was behind him--trees--and around them--trees--then turned back to the Unas.
The Unas made a sound low in its throat. Daniel thought it sounded like a trill originating somewhere that might be physiologically impossible for humans to produce.
"Grrr," he tried. The Unas was unimpressed. Trying to work moisture into his dry mouth, Daniel cleared his throat and trilled as low and as far back as he could.
He didn't manage anything past his uvula aside from an odd, gargled sound, but the Unas backed up a step, its eyes opening wide and its mouth forming what, in a human, Daniel would have called an expression of surprise.
Daniel ended in a cough. "I'm thirsty," he said defensively when the Unas narrowed its eyes at him. "And I can't walk this fast and still...have enough breath to sustain that kind of...pressure in my oral tract. I'd try for...epiglottal if I were better rested and...not thirsty."
The Unas blinked at him.
"Can we rest here?" he said, raising his hands slowly, palms down as far as he could turn them while tied so tight his wrists hurt, and gestured down toward the ground. "Rest. Sa'djiri. Rest."
The Unas growled again. Daniel growled back. The Unas looked shocked.
Daniel thought belatedly that it might be a bad idea to growl at someone stronger than he while tied up by the hands, aching all over from being dragged however far he'd been dragged, and unable to see clearly. The Unas only tilted its head, though, and stared at him. It reminded Daniel of the way Robert had studied him when they'd first met: like some odd, never-before-seen specimen.
Then he looked back down at his hands, which were not only bound by sturdy rope (one could buy rope on Earth, but they made what they needed on Abydos, so Daniel knew it wasn't simple to make rope like this) but also fastened with a complicated knot that he wouldn't have thought the Unas's strong fingers could tie, especially with one of its hands bleeding.
"I know you're intelligent," Daniel said, looking at the Unas's necklace and clothes. "Why haven't we met before? Oh! Uh, actually, I have friends who'd like to meet you..."
Making sure to keep his eyes slightly lowered from the Unas's stare, he slowly reached a hand into his pocket. As his fingers caught on something and he struggled to pull it out, he said, "It's not a weapon. I'm not threatening you. It's not a weapon."
The Unas leaned slightly closer to him but didn't move to stop him as he finally extracted the radio. He fumbled with the buttons until he depressed the right one.
"This is Daniel Jackson," he said as calmly as he could while his heart tried to pound its way out of his chest. "If anyone can hear me, please respond and"--he glanced at the Unas, who was hovering over him--"um...come shoot my companion. Over."
He released the button and stared intently at the Unas's foot, still bent over. The Unas was starting to growl again. A line of sweat made its way down Daniel's neck.
"Please respond," Daniel said again, and he heard fear rising in his voice, so he took a deep breath and tried again. "This is Daniel Jackson. Over."
"Daniel! Where are you? Are you okay?"
Daniel straightened. "Robert! I'm--"
The Unas's knee crashed into his chest, the radio crashed into a tree, and Daniel crashed back to the ground. His captor's face hovered an inch from his own and growled something that probably meant 'shut up.' Daniel would have answered, but he was concentrating too hard on making his lungs inflate again and his head stop spinning and his stomach stop churning.
The Unas rose to its feet and jerked the leash. Daniel scrambled up again, struggling to find his footing and horrified at the thought that he might be dragged the rest of the way if he didn't get his feet under him.
...x...
They emerged at the banks of a river and came to a halt. Daniel dropped gratefully to the ground when the Unas crouched by the riverside, still holding the leash but looking like it was planning to rest.
He lay back down flat, closing his eyes for a moment simply to catch his breath.
How had they not known about the Unas here? They'd been here before--in fact, many of them had come right here or nearby to replenish water supplies--and there had been no traces of anything like an Unas anywhere. Surely they would at least have seen something? Did the Unas usually live farther away, and was that where they were going now?
It made sense, though. He and Robert had speculated that some host, perhaps an Unas, had come through the Stargate and been taken as a host. But the hosts hadn't come through the Stargate; they'd already been here and had just left through the Stargate. Why would they have thought, anyway, that an Unas on its own would have figured out how to use a device as complex as the Stargate--
"...Cha'kaa. Cha'kaa..."
Then again, Daniel remembered, opening his eyes and pulling himself up to sit, the Unas weren't exactly unintelligent animals.
Now, the Unas was squatting in a posture that reminded Daniel eerily of Teal'c when he meditated, back completely straight and eyes closed with hands resting on the knees...except that, unlike Teal'c in kelno'reem, the Unas was saying something.
"Cha'kaa," Daniel said aloud, listening closely, because he was starting to understand now--this was a language, and that was something Daniel could work with. "Cha'ka."
The Unas stopped, and its--his--head whipped around to Daniel.
"Cha'ka," Daniel repeated, louder. He raised his hands, pointing toward himself. "Daniel." Slowly, he extended his hands toward the Unas. "Chaka?"
When the Unas only continued to stare at him, it struck him that, if he hadn't realized the Unas were an intelligent species, why would the Unas believe he was an intelligent species? Maybe the Unas was surprised that he was trying to communicate, the way he'd have been in its place.
"Not your name," he decided. "Is it--"
A familiar whirr sounded from overhead. Daniel looked up to see a UAV, tempted to jump up and hope someone was monitoring its video feed, but before he could, the Unas leapt to his feet, calling, "Shesh. Shesh!"
"Shesh," Daniel repeated, standing as the slack in the leash diminished. "What is that--shesh?"
The Unas glanced at him, then back up, pointing into the sky. "Shesh! Chakaa...keka!"
Daniel followed his finger to the UAV, then back to the Unas's face, and suddenly, he realized the Unas was scared.
"It's okay!" he said, stepping in front of the Unas and keeping his voice low, as soothing as he could make it while standing in front of an agitated Unas. "They're friends. Well, not your friends, but...it's just a machine. Shh--it's okay."
The Unas didn't look away from the UAV, even as it started zooming out of sight. Hoping to distract it, Daniel held his hands together like a UAV and made a sound that he thought sounded very stupid, but it held the Unas's attention until the UAV was out of sight.
Only when they'd both quieted and the Unas was staring at Daniel did he realize he'd just watched the UAV fly overhead and pass again out of reach. If anyone was watching, he'd missed his chance to be seen.
"I'm going to call you Chaka," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Chaka," Chaka repeated.
"Yes, I realize it's not your name, but it's that or 'the Unas,'" Daniel said. "So tell me now if I should call you something else."
"Unas!" Chaka said, his eyes widening again. He stepped back, and from this perspective, Daniel could clearly see the chin horns that looked only partially grown out.
Remembering Robert's comment about fin spines that weren't fully grown out, Daniel said, "Are you a...an immature Unas? I'm a human. Unas. Human."
Chaka stared at him, then narrowed his eyes.
"I don't mean 'immature' as a derogatory term," Daniel clarified, taking a step back, only to be jolted forward again. "Ow. I mean...you're not an adult, are you?"
Chaka growled at him. Since this seemed to be their most productive mode of communication so far, Daniel growled back. Chaka seemed satisfied with this answer and picked up the leash. Daniel moved forward quickly to avoid being jerked, but the Unas only watched him for a moment, then turned and began walking again, tugging gently each time when he slowed.
...x...
By the time they came out of the woods, some lengths down the river, Daniel's head was throbbing, and he wasn't sure whether it was from whatever he'd hit on the way to unconsciousness, from tripping and falling too many times, from exhaustion, or from dehydration.
But he could see the river full of water, and in his desperation, he forgot again to be the submissive captive. "Hey," he croaked. Chaka kept walking, apparently used to hearing him talk by now. "Yakhai! Kree! Water! Stop!" When that failed, he dug his feet into the ground, grabbed the rope in his hands and pulled as hard as he could.
This made Chaka stop, turn around, and pull back. The rope slithered through Daniel's hands, and the burning across his palms made him drop it with a hiss. The insistent tugging started again, and, hoping to stop their inexorable movement away from the riverbank, Daniel said something that sounded like "Grrr," but considerably more pathetic.
Chaka turned again, tilted his head, and demonstrated a real roar.
Undeterred, Daniel said a firm, "No," and yanked back on his rope.
Chaka yanked him forward hard enough to bring him to his knees with a painful jolt. Then he made a sound that was suspiciously like a snort, and Daniel looked up in surprise to see what could have been a smile.
Stupid, he thought. Who was to say that an Unas's labial movements meant the same thing as a human's?
Still, on a hunch, he stood, gingerly picked up his slack of rope again, and pulled, growling loudly as he did.
This time, he let go fast enough to avoid more rope burn on his palms, and he was only jerked forward, stumbling, though his wrists complained bitterly about the preferential treatment his hands were getting. Chaka made the same sound again, and when Daniel looked up, he saw the Unas ducking his head, glancing up at him almost timidly between--
--chuckles.
"A violent rope game," Daniel said, managing a sickly smile when Chaka looked back up at him. "Of course. You couldn't have picked something easier on the one tied up?"
Chaka tugged again, more lightly, then stopped, as if to tell him it was his turn. Daniel huffed in disbelief and reluctantly picked up the rope again, but this time, Chaka started to pull too soon, and Daniel dropped his end just fast enough to make Chaka stumble back against the unexpected lack of resistance.
"You cheated!" Daniel said, indignant before he remembered that he didn’t really want to play this game. Chaka narrowed his eyes. "I know, I cheated, too, but you cheated first."
"Unas tak," Chaka said.
Daniel had no idea what that meant, but, intrigued, he took in the slight hunch in Chaka's shoulders, the dipping of his head until he was looking up almost tentatively through lowered eyes. Taking a chance, Daniel scowled and repeated sternly, "Tak."
To his relief, Chaka didn't seem offended and instead seemed to find the answer--and the variation in the game--clever. This resulted, unfortunately, in more rounds of the game. Daniel was almost glad his hands were going numb and wished his wrists would kindly do the same.
Soon, though, even Chaka tired of it and the insistent tug came again, the one that said he was supposed to follow Chaka to wherever he was being taken.
"No, no, wait!" Daniel called desperately, and maybe the tone was enough, because Chaka stopped and turned around. Daniel pointed his hands toward the water. "Water," he said, then licked his lips and mimed drinking out of his hands. "I need water."
Chaka finally understood and led him to the riverbank.
Daniel dropped eagerly to his knees and lowered his mouth to the surface, only to find Chaka pulling him back by a shoulder. Not in the mood to play more games, Daniel looked up and saw Chaka doing just what he'd been doing before: miming drinking out of his hands.
A definite sign of communication--mimicry, but also clear comprehension and clever mimicry, using the signs that Chaka knew Daniel knew. Daniel wished he had his notebook. That made him wish his hands were free to write and use the notebook, so he held out his bound hands, hoping Chaka was a little stupider than he seemed to be and would untie him.
Unfortunately, Chaka was not that stupid and did no such thing. He did, however, drop the end of the leash to allow enough slack to drink.
Daniel had gratefully gulped a handful of murky water before he registered that Chaka had let go of the leash. The Unas was looking over the river, as if watching for intruders, and Daniel's heart sped up as the prospect of freedom loomed. He just had to get away, and then he could follow their tracks back to camp, meet up with SG-11, and report back to the SGC.
Bent over the bank, he moved his hands back down as if to scoop more water--
--then yanked the leash away and leapt to his feet, sprinting away, back into the woods.
But the woods looked the same in one direction as they did in another. Without his glasses, he could barely see the branches whipping out at him from all directions and the brush he was tripping over, much less any tracks. And Chaka was roaring--oh gods, he was angry, and Daniel's legs found strength to run and run and run, until--
He stepped out of the woods to find himself farther again down the river.
There was nowhere else to go except back to the woods or across the river, and he could swim well enough to pass Jack's requirements, but he wasn't a strong swimmer even when his hands weren't tied and his lungs and limbs weren't screaming for him to stop. Better to rely on the ground.
Then, rustling made him turn to see Chaka run out just behind him.
Running wasn't an option anymore. Between an Unas and swimming...
Daniel stepped into the river, breathing fast as much from fear as from the run. Chaka started to follow, then shied back, away from the water.
Were Unas afraid of water?
Daniel took a deep breath and kept going, backing into the water and trying not to lose his nerve when the cool water rose above his knees and reached his waist.
Then the ground dropped out from under his feet, leaving him to plunge into the water.
The shock didn't hit him until his head dipped underwater, and then he panicked. He kicked up as hard as he could, but without his hands, and wearing his boots and gear, he only reached the surface long enough to sputter for a tiny mouthful of air before his own weight pulled him back down, and every time he moved his arms, he was only pulled down more.
With every instinct telling him to go back, Daniel pressed his lips together and pushed forward, up, forward, knowing there was a shore on the other side, and he just had to reach it before he drowned.
Another brief moment at the surface--but he opened his mouth too soon and choked. His legs kicked frantically against the water to bring him to the surface while his brain urged him to go forward forward and he forced himself not to open his mouth, even when he felt himself trying to breathe.
And then his mouth opened and the river water hurt, searing into his lungs. He couldn't breathe, and now every fiber of his body was telling him to breathe again, no matter where he was, and he tried, even knowing he was in the water, he tried, and his throat wouldn't open, but his mouth did, and oh gods, he was going to die at the bottom of a river running from an Unas because he couldn'tswim well enough, and--
Something brushed past him. Still flailing to reach air, to get across, to breathe, Daniel felt his hands push something aside, and the something pushed back, nudging, nipping sharply at his shoulder, his neck, and what was that thing, there were teeth, and he couldn't see--he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he couldn't move move move...
And then the thing's teeth were gone, and a hand closed around his arm with crushing strength and yanked him up.
Daniel felt himself being dragged through the shallows and thrown to the ground, and he didn't care who or how or where, but there was air and a ground, and he lay trying to suck in a breath, but it was like his throat had closed and he still couldn't, couldn't breathe--
"Ka! Ka keka!"
Something lifted him up from the back and slammed him back to the ground, a hard pressure pounding onto his back as he crashed back down. Daniel jerked as air flowed though his throat, then coughed water and retched more water and choked on that until a hard grip pulled him up, flipping him over onto his side and holding him in place as his body convulsed miserably and tried to expel everything that could possibly be inside him.
Then he was shaking and too tired for the coughs still ripping through his throat, cold and faint from not breathing and then breathing too much.
Chaka's face dropped down next to his and roared, "Ka! Tak!"
Daniel dragged in another breath and let his eyes fall shut, exhausted. The hand on his arm tightened until he opened his eyes again.
Chaka's other hand was holding something near Daniel's face. It took a moment to focus on the squealing thing, but finally--
"No," Daniel choked, struggling against Chaka's grip as a Goa'uld symbiote squirmed in front of him. "Onak--na nay!"
The Goa'uld was whisked away, out of sight, and as Daniel's lungs tried to empty themselves of more water, he imagined Chaka holding the squealing symbiote at his neck, no no... He pulled again against the hand holding him in place, trying to stop coughing and crawl away--
There was a sharp crack, and the squealing stopped. Chaka pulled him roughly to flop flat on his back, and he squinted up blearily to see the Unas holding a dead symbiote, one half in each hand with thick, blue blood dripping from the rent ends.
"Ka," Chaka growled, pointing at him with a twitching Goa'uld tail.
"N-no," Daniel said faintly between gasps. "Ka. Ka. No."
"Onak," Chaka said, pointing out over the river with a Goa'uld head.
Daniel turned his head and looked, and as he watched, he saw something snake-like leap into the air, another shape behind it, until they both landed back in the water with a splash and the waters churned furiously.
A feeding.
The primordial Goa'uld were predators, but these were parasites, too, and they were aquatic organisms. They were still here, but the Unas knew and stayed away, and Daniel, thinking he'd learned so much about the primordial Goa'uld, had waded into their water and almost lost himself.
"Onak," Daniel heard himself say. "Goa'uld."
Chaka held half of the dead Goa'uld to his face. Daniel would have flinched if he'd had the energy. "Keka," Chaka said.
"Kek," Daniel said. There were Goa'uld words in this language. He cleared his throat and latched onto that thought, that they were communicating and he understood. "Keka. Death. Onak k-keka."
"Ka!" Chaka grabbed him by the chin, then dragged the bloody end of the symbiote across Daniel's cheek. "Onak ka keka! Unas ko keka onak!"
"Ko," Daniel said, once his face was released. "Ko keka. Ko keka...'give death.' Goa'uld not...kill. Onak ka keka Daniel. Unas ko k-keka onak."
Perhaps it was the full sentences, but that made Chaka stop, rearing back again. Daniel rolled himself back onto his side and vomited again, fighting the desire to wipe the thick Goa'uld blood from his face. He had disobeyed. He had cheated. Chaka had saved him. Now Chaka could mark him as he wished.
Those were the rules.
Chaka pulled on the rope. Daniel felt himself slide bonelessly along the ground, scrabbling weakly at the rope and the ground to push himself to his feet. Chaka growled and pulled harder. Daniel found his way up, staggered forward, caught the rope, swayed, stayed upright.
He'd gotten another chance. Chaka had saved him and marked him. He'd play by the rules. Every second he was alive was a chance.
XXXXX
14 December 2000; P3X-888; 2230 hrs
"They came this way," Teal'c said, bent over tracks on the ground.
Jack's anger was fading, leaving fear to start settling into his stomach. Three of SG-11 were dead, Hawkins was so screwed up he didn't even know Loder was dead when he was standing next to the body, and Rothman was running out of steam, even if he wasn't saying it. Carter had to notice his wheezing first and say, "Sir, I think we should rest."
It took a reminder that the flagging archaeologist was freaking out about Daniel just like the rest of them for Jack to agree, "All right, go to ground. Boots on, no fire. I'll take first watch."
As they walked toward the woods to set up camp, Teal'c joined him at the river's edge and said, "Did you see the tracks, O'Neill?"
"Yeah," Jack said, looking at the sets he'd labeled 'Unas' and 'Daniel.' "They were both here."
"The tracks indicate a flight. Daniel Jackson's footprints lead into the river. The Unas did not follow directly but most likely pursued by means of a land bridge not far from here."
Jack nodded stiffly. "I noticed that."
Teal'c didn't move.
"He can swim," Jack said.
"Daniel Jackson has told me that--"
"He made it across," Jack snapped, and sat down to watch over his people.
Teal'c stared down at him. Jack waited for him to point out that Daniel had grown up in a desert, the kind where they were lucky if yearly floods brought the closest river waist-high, that Daniel had learned to float in a pool and could make his way from one side to the other because Jack had made him learn enough not to be afraid of deep water...but after walking for hours at this pace, not to mention who-knew-what injuries he might have, and with an Unas on his trail...
"We will rest tonight," Teal'c said finally. "We must increase our pace in the morning and be prepared to render aid when we find Daniel Jackson."
"Yeah," Jack said, grateful for the pragmatism and not wanting to imagine what state Daniel would be in when they found him. He found he couldn't care much at the moment, as long as that state wasn't 'dead.' "Go kelno'reem. We're going to need your strength when we catch up to the Unas."
Teal'c disappeared into the woods.
He checked his watch. They'd been on the planet two hours when they'd gotten a frantic voice on the radio, which had been maybe six hours ago, and Rothman had made the run from the dig site to the SGC in three hours...
Too much time had passed.
Rothman said night here was short in this season--it'd be dark for about six and a half hours. Hawkins hadn't confirmed or disagreed, but Hawkins couldn't confirm his own first name right now. Six hours. They'd be up and on their way as soon as the sun came out again.
XXXXX
14 December 2000; P3X-888; 2400 hrs
Daniel wondered if he was going to throw up again. His stomach assured him it was willing to do so, despite having thoroughly emptied itself at the river. His head threatened to fall off if he moved another inch. His brain thought he should move and not sit shivering against the wall of a cave. He told his brain to shut up.
Chaka wasn't holding his leash anymore or even sitting close by as he flicked sparking stones together and coaxed a fire to life. Daniel tried to imagine grabbing his leash, getting up, and running. His imagination didn't get past the 'getting up' part. He supposed Chaka knew that.
In the end, he didn't have a choice. Chaka threw wood onto his fire until it was strong enough that Daniel was considering crawling toward it, just a little. He'd just unfolded his legs from in front of himself and was starting to think about how to get up without moving his back too much when Chaka walked toward him, picked up his leash, and pointed to the fire.
"Yeah," Daniel rasped through a throat that still felt raw. "I was just thinking that." He hoped Chaka would drag him over.
"Ka cha," Chaka said, tugging with a force that was probably gentle for an Unas. Daniel fell over and reflected that he was about half a body-length closer to the fire now.
Chaka grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him upright, then half-carried him to sit next to the fire. Daniel leaned close to the wonderful heat and closed his eyes, thinking that falling asleep right here wouldn't be so bad, even though he knew it was a bad idea.
But leaning close made him smell something far too familiar, and he peeled open his eyes to discover that roasting Goa'uld symbiote flesh smelled a lot like burned human flesh.
Nausea was rearing its head again. He hoped Chaka wasn't cooking the Goa'uld because he wanted to eat it. Of course, there weren't many other reasons to cook a Goa'uld.
"Nan," Chaka said, tossing the symbiote's head at his feet.
Daniel stared at it. 'Onak' was the same in the Unas language as it was in the Goa'uld, and Chaka wasn't there to give him vocabulary lessons, so 'nan' was probably an order. And since the symbiote head had just been cooked...
"Not hungry," Daniel said. He leaned back and was glad to find a wall behind him. "Ka. Daniel ka nan." He was still thirsty, though, which was ridiculous after he'd almost drowned himself.
Stupid. He should be thankful Chaka had saved him.
Chaka didn't like that answer. He picked up the symbiote head and held it close to Daniel's face, where its scent wafted unfortunately close to Daniel's nose. "Nan!" he repeated.
Daniel tried to take a breath to repeat his answer and choked on a cough instead, his chest still aching and his throat still remarkably dry for all he'd done to drown himself today. When he recovered and looked up, the symbiote head was on the ground and Chaka was gone.
A sudden, irrational panic swept over Daniel at the thought of being left here alone, bound and tired, without Chaka to watch over him. It wasn't until Chaka's reappearance in one of the tunnels brought a sense of relief that he realized he'd never even entertained the notion of running and had thoroughly mixed up something in his priorities and alliances.
"Not," Daniel told Chaka, "that I'd have gotten far, anyway."
Chaka gave him one of the narrow-eyed looks that seemed to mean he was trying to understand what Daniel was talking about.
"Never mind," Daniel sighed. "Where were you? Kel?"
In answer, Chaka held out his hand, which was holding a small stone bowl. "You made that? It's nice," he said, then saw the water inside. "Is that for me? Please say it's for me."
"Ko," Chaka said, pushing it toward him.
Daniel raised his hands to accept it as well as he could with no slack in the rope and his hands cold and almost unfeeling by now. One of Chaka's hands stayed around the bowl. "I'm not really comfortable with this," Daniel said before he tried to take a sip. "Are you going to eat me? Because if you are, this is a very odd--"
The bowl was lifted to his lips. Daniel grabbed it tight to make sure it didn't tip back too fast into his mouth and start choking him again. He'd had enough of that for one day.
The water disappeared before he could take a second sip. He heard himself actually whine when Chaka pulled it away and set it down out of reach. Chaka whipped back around and growled disapprovingly at him for being a baby. Daniel shut up.
But then the symbiote head was back. "Naan," Chaka insisted, picking up the other half of the symbiote and biting a chunk off.
Daniel grimaced and picked up the hot, roasted head, noting that the jaw structure of this one was much closer to modern Goa'uld than what they'd seen in the fossils. It had the same eyes as the System Lords, though, and they were staring at him, so he turned the symbiote head around and looked at the ripped end instead, which wasn't much of an improvement.
"If I weren't so appalled at the thought," Daniel tried to explain to Chaka, "I'd be interested in the symbolism--the Goa'uld have preyed on people like us for years, and now you eat Goa'uld."
Chaka spat out what looked suspiciously like the vestigial pelvic spurs of his symbiote.
"Right," Daniel said, staring. "Then again..."
"Dan'el nan!" Chaka snapped, then pointed at the bowl of water, as if to say he'd given Daniel some water and now he expected to be obeyed.
Follow the rules. New situation, new people, new rules. Daniel was good at adapting. He just had to try harder, that was all.
It was just an animal, really. Daniel had eaten many different animals. That he could potentially have had a conversation with this one didn't mean anything; right now, it was just meat.
And...the longer he stared at it, sitting by the fire in a cave with Chaka, the more intrigued he was. There was something perversely tempting about it--not the meat itself, because his stomach had wrung itself out too much to be hungry, but the idea. What was more powerful than actually eating someone to signify dominance? And okay, it was kind of horrifying, too, but still, it was a pitiful god who could be caught, roasted on a spit, and fed to a pet.
"I don't suppose you know the story of King Unas of Egypt?" Daniel said. "The part about eating the gods, and...you know..."
"Ka," Chaka said, looking confused. "Unas?"
"Of course not." He took a breath and raised the back of the symbiote head to his mouth. "Well, so much for gods," he said, feeling lightheaded and brave and disgusted, and bit off a piece.
As it turned out, the roasted symbiote head was perhaps the most revolting thing he'd ever tried to force down his throat. He forced another bite down, anyway, and tried very hard not to gag.
"Mmm," he lied, shifting his seat to find a polite way to put the Goa'uld head down.
A crinkling sound came from his pocket as he moved.
"Ih," he said, remembering he had food with him, too. He put down the gnawed symbiote head and reached into his pocket to pull out a squashed power bar. Chaka put down his symbiote tail and watched curiously as Daniel peeled back the wrapper. "Nan," he said, holding the power bar to his nose and sniffing it. "Mmm."
"Ka," Chaka scoffed in disbelief. Daniel pushed the bar toward him again. Still, Chaka only poked it with a claw, then repeated, "Ka nan."
Daniel picked up the symbiote head and determinedly ripped another tiny piece off and swallowed it, imitating the way Chaka moved his head as he ate, mostly because it helped him avoid the taste buds on his tongue as the meat was tossed down his throat. "Daniel nan onak," he said, then took a bite out of the power bar, hoping it would wash the taste of Goa'uld away. "Mmm," he said more sincerely, then offered it to Chaka. "Unas nan...uh, chocolate?"
Chaka took the power bar. Daniel finished chewing and watched as the Unas licked the bar and ripped a cautious bite from it.
A rumbling noise came from Chaka's throat. Daniel wondered if he'd made a mistake--or maybe accidentally poisoned his friend--but then Chaka took another bite, and he realized he wasn't the only one trying to imitate sounds.
"Mmm," Daniel repeated, pointing to his sealed lips and indicating the direction of airflow through his nose to make the sound. "Mmm."
"Rrrr," Chaka answered, some kind of trill deep in his mouth.
"That's close enough," Daniel decided, then settled back against the cave wall to let the fire dry and warm him.
...x...
The sound of crinkling plastic woke Daniel from his doze. He started, but, seeing Chaka swallow the last bite of power bar and discard the wrapper, decided that it hadn't been long.
"Don’t litter," Daniel scolded him sleepily, because they weren't supposed to leave Tau'ri garbage to contaminate the local environment any more than they had to. He leaned forward to pick up the offending trash.
It wasn't until Chaka picked up another stray piece of plastic and pressed it into his hand that he realized he'd fallen asleep next to the Unas who had tied him up, dragged him around, and fed him a Goa'uld and was now helping him pick up garbage.
"Thank you, Chaka," Daniel said, awkwardly stuffing the whole bundle of plastic into his pocket.
His fingers brushed against something else, though, and he recognized the feel of buttons on the side of his tape recorder.
"Can I get up?" he asked, even as he began to stand. Chaka stiffened, snapping alert. Daniel stopped, halfway upright, and held out his hands, lowering his head.
Chaka eyed the end of the leash, then deliberately put it down on the ground and turned to sit facing the fire.
Daniel's footsteps echoed in the cave, but he didn't try to quiet them. Chaka knew where he was, and they both knew he wasn't trying to go anywhere. The cave, though...this must be why no one had noticed the Unas in the initial planet assessment. He made his way toward one of the tunnels, the farthest he could see by the light of the fire, and found scratchings on the wall.
"Wow," he said aloud, then reached into his pocket for his tape recorder, this time pulling out the waterproof, plastic bag where he'd been keeping the recorder, along with a small brush and a pair of forceps he hadn't had the time to take out.
He pretended he wasn't aware that he'd probably never use the brush or forceps again and stuffed them back into his pocket, just in case.
The first figures he saw on the wall showed what looked like an illustrated life cycle of a parasitical Goa'uld. Daniel thought even the biologists on base would be impressed. Making sure to keep his voice even, he began to record.
"P3X-888. This is Daniel Jackson. I don't know how much time has passed and my watch is broken...so, uh, I think it's December fourteenth, 2000. I'm in a cave with an adolescent Unas. Un-Goa'ulded. Male, I think, if those gender labels are valid."
Chaka looked up. Daniel ducked his head until Chaka turned back to watch the fire.
"I'm calling him Chaka. I don't think that's his name, but he doesn't seem to mind, and I can't figure out what the word means or why he says the word, and I'm not about to wait and let Jack name him. Not that you'd probably name him, Jack, but the--anyway.
"Chaka's very intelligent. He talks and responds to my attempts to communicate and has even engaged in what I think was a game with me. I've only learned a few of his words so far, but we're getting to know each other through that and a lot of, uh, demonstrative body language. If...if you find this, Robert Rothman, remember what I said about communicating without knowing the spoken language. It's been helpful in this case."
Daniel paused. If he thought of this as a last recording--if he started thinking that way--it would be bad for his state of mind if he tried to escape. Still, just in case...
It was a matter of collecting data. Eventually, when the UAV didn't show anything, the rest of his team would know he was missing. They'd come looking for him, and at least this way, they wouldn't lose valuable data, that was all.
"Ka," he said, "means 'no.' Unas...well, 'Unas.' Nan...'eat.' Keka...'death.' Onak...'Goa'uld.' Ko is give, and ko keka is 'to kill,' but the negative of that seems to use 'ka keka' instead of the full 'ka ko keka.' It's also possible ko acts as a...an affirmative particle of some sort. Kel is a question. Tak is something he says when I try to cheat or break the rules. Oh, uh...neither vowel length nor glottalization seems to be contrastive, but that's based on a word I don't understand--chaka--so I could be wrong.
"Note the lexical similarities to Goa'uld. With the difference in morphological complexity and the strict SVO sentence structure of what I've heard of Unas, it's possible that the Unas and Goa'uld languages are genetically unrelated, but they almost certainly influenced each other. This relationship is supported by how well the Unas understand Goa'uld society and biology, which may be the reason why the un-Goa'ulded Unas live in caves, away from...water...oh."
On the wall, there was a drawing. The drawing was not ambiguous.
Eyes fixed on it, Daniel cleared his throat. "There are pictures on the wall. I think Chaka is undertaking a ritual--maybe a rite of passage--which explains why he's dragging me everywhere and making efforts to keep me alive and mostly unhurt, instead of killing me outright--"
A shadow fell over the wall, and he whirled. "Chaka," he gasped, surprised at the sudden proximity.
"Wok tah," Chaka said, pointing to Daniel.
Daniel raised the recorder. "I don't know what that means," he said. "But now he's calling me that, even though he's called me an approximation of 'Daniel' before--"
Then Chaka grabbed him by the shoulder and pressed him against the cave wall. "Wok tah!" he growled into Daniel's ear, and then a sharp claw pierced his cheek, dragging a line down Daniel's face.
"Ka!" Daniel cried, struggling to pull himself away. "Ka, Chaka!"
He was released, and he leaned against the sturdy wall for a moment until the sting started to fade and he heard a scraping sound. Looking up, he saw his own blood smeared on the wall. Chaka's body was in the way, and he was still scratching something, so it wasn't until after he backed off that Daniel could see what the picture was.
Swallowing hard, he said aloud, the recording still active, "Th-there's a picture of an Unas dragging another figure--probably a human--next to a streak of my blood. I think 'wok tah' means 'sacrifice.' Or, you know, 'future murder victim.' Something like that."
"Dan'el wok tah," Chaka said, bringing his face close to Daniel's and huffing once before he returned to sit by the fire.
"See," Daniel said once he'd stopped being too petrified to speak. "He knows my name."
He slid down the wall until he was sitting. "Whoever finds this, don't get caught. And. If you do, don't get in their face and threaten them, and don't run into the water, because there are Goa'uld there, and Robert, you know there's no naquadah in them, so no one can sense them.
"I hope you find this. Or not, because it's kind of morbid, but...actually, I hope you do, because there's data on Cleopatra and Julius on here, too. Chaka and I are friends. Don't roll your eyes, Jack. He's never seen a human before. I mean, he wants to kill me, but we're working on it. And I ate half a Goa'uld head, and he ate my chocolate, so I don't know what that means, but it has to be a good thing, the, the...the trading. He pulled me out of the river and gave me a vocabulary lesson. Please don't kill him. He has a sense of humor. It's kind of weird, though. I'm starting to ramble. I'll leave this here. Maybe you'll find it. Um. That's it."
Daniel stopped the recording and set it on the ground.
Next to the recorder, he found a small, sharp rock, and he looked up thoughtfully at the wall. Pushing himself to protesting feet, he checked to see that Chaka wasn't paying attention and carefully began to scratch a message onto the wall.
Eventually, whether it was in a day or a week, SG-1 would find this cave. He had to give them something to find.
XXXXX
15 December 2000; P3X-888; 0400 hrs
When the sun came up, Teal'c said, "Come no further. These waters abound with Goa'uld. Any of you who has ventured near the edge may have been compromised."
Jack's first thought was that SG-11 were all idiots for calling this planet clear of hostile activity. Then he remembered SG-11 was all dead or traumatized or freaked (or Goa'ulded, god, how did you miss something like that?) and didn't say it aloud.
"Bind their hands and feet tight with those," Teal'c said, tossing a bundle of cable ties at Jack's feet. "I will then do the same to you, O'Neill."
"Oh, come on," Griff said, "we don't have time for this!"
Jack wanted to agree, but Carter said sharply, "Enough, Captain. There's no other choice. Colonel, Teal'c's right--he's the only one we can be sure of, including you and me."
She looked deadly serious. Jack bent and picked up the cable ties, then made his way angrily down the line, starting with Pierce as Teal'c held his staff weapon ready.
"Colonel," Rothman said when it was his turn, even as he sat down and held his hands out to be bound, "I'm not a Goa'uld. And Daniel's still out there!"
"I know he is," Jack snapped, pulling the restraints tight and moving on to Hawkins. Hawkins was showing the first signs of life beyond walking since they'd found him. Jack glanced up at the man's face, saw anger smoldering in his eyes, and added a second restraint to his wrists. Griff looked pissed, but Griff often looked pissed.
It was Carter who made him pause, her expression so full that he could barely separate out the 'it's-okay-I-understand' from the 'oh-god-Daniel.'
Jack finished, plopped down next to Carter, and tossed the rest of the ties to Teal'c. "My turn," he said resentfully. As Teal'c crouched close to tighten the ties around Jack's hands, he whispered, "I'm telling you, it's gotta be Hawkins."
"Trust in me, O'Neill," Teal'c said calmly, the Teal'c-calm that meant he was ready for battle.
Still annoyed, because he knew he didn't have a snake in his head, Jack said sarcastically, "What if I'm not O'Neill?"
Teal'c looked into his eyes. "Then I was not talking to you."
"Teal'c--"
Teal'c stood and looked down at him.
"You'd better find him," Jack said.
In answer, Teal'c said, "I will begin immediately."
As the Jaffa ran away, leaving them trussed up like animals to be slaughtered, Griff pointed out, "What if one of those Unas come by? What do we do then?"
Carter snapped out again, "Teal'c didn't have any other choice, Captain!"
"Yeah?" Griff scoffed. Jack didn’t call him on insubordination, mostly because he agreed.
"This is ridiculous," Rothman's voice said. Jack glanced over and saw him squirming, obviously uncomfortable in the restraints. He hoped the man didn't need his inhaler anytime soon. That could get awkward. "I'm not a Goa'uld!"
Jack rolled his eyes. "Well, then why didn't you just say so? We could've straightened this whole thing out."
"So which one of you is it?" Hawkins spoke up for the first time in hours.
"All right," Jack called, resigned now to sitting here until Coburn and Freeman got their butts over here and dragged them all back to the SGC. "Anybody with a snake in their head raise their hands!"
There was a snapping sound.
Hawkins raised his hand.
Jack stared at the man, realizing belatedly that this was a very, very flawed plan. Hawkins leaned forward and easily ripped apart the restraints around his ankles, then stood slowly, eyes glowing.
"Damn," Jack said, looking around and wishing Teal'c hadn't taken off so fast. Hawkins was making his way toward their pile of weapons. "Uh...Teal'c!" Hawkins bent down, picked up a P90 and aimed it at him. "Teal'c!" Jack yelled, turning his head in the direction his friend had run off. "Teal'c!"
Two staff blasts sounded. Hawkins' eyes glowed bright again, and the gun dropped from his hands as he fell to the ground.
Jack tore his eyes away from the dead man--Goa'uld--in front of him and saw Teal'c approaching from the woods. "Well, that took you long enough!" Jack called, relief and shock at Hawkins' death both helping to refuel his annoyance.
"You are welcome, O'Neill," Teal'c said, crouching to cut Jack's restraints. "I knew if there was a Goa'uld among you he would be strong enough to free himself."
"You had to wait long enough to make to make sure Hawkins wasn't the only one," Carter said in understanding as Teal'c began to free her.
"Are you satisfied now?" Griff said, a little less pissed off than before.
Teal'c smiled briefly at Carter and cut Griff loose. "I am," he said unapologetically.
Jack stood and picked up his gun as he heard Rothman's voice said, "I'm glad that's over with."
He moved away from the pile to let Carter retrieve her weapon, then checked to make sure his gun was loaded and ready to fire before starting to loop it over his shoulder.
Then a wordless, Goa'uld roar sounded, and Jack whirled around to see Rothman knock Teal'c away and grab the staff weapon, his eyes glowing. Griff was just turning around at the commotion when a staff blast threw him back.
Jack had time to think Goa'uld-armed-man-down before he aimed and squeezed the trigger.
Dr. Rothman tumbled backward. His eyes flashed once more before he died.
XXXXX
Continued in Part b...