Terms of Endorsement
 
 
by Travelling One
 
 
Email: travelling_one@yahoo.ca
Web: http://www.travellingone.com/
Summary: Daniel's loyalty is put to the test.
Related episodes: None
Season: 4-5
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. Any original characters, situations, and storylines are the property of the author. Archive only with permission please.
December/04
 
NOTES: If this story is having problems fully loading, please press "Stop" and then "Refresh". If this doesn't work, please let me know. - T.O.
 
 
"Those aren't just lights; we think the beams are constantly scouring the skies for signs of inward-bound enemies."
 
The inhabitants had hinted at those colossal angling spires as also being able to detect and deter undesirables from a distance of half a light year away, making this world a definite place to begin looking for new allies. Towering effortlessly, their purpose as yet not entirely established due to the reticence of the communicators, their construction was definitely worth studying. Silver, blue, and pale green; perhaps different models of the defensive space protectors had specific and more individual functions.
 
Jack tapped his pen on the briefing room table to an indiscriminate beat. New allies, yes. There were possibilities here. Too bad the inhabitants were so damn grumpy. A dose of SG1 and they'd be over that in no time.
 
"Colonel, SG1 will be the first contact team. Do what you can to befriend these people and open up trade negotiations. As curious as their administration seems to be, judging from our brief contact, I suspect they may not be as amenable to sharing their technology as we hope. Plans are for SG13 to replace you after negotiations have begun and a trust solidified."
 
"So when do we leave, General?"
 
"Tomorrow at 0600 hours. Are there any further questions?"
 
"I have one, sir. If we do strike a deal for some of those towers, what particular colour did you have in mind?"
 
"Let's just try for the newest model, Colonel."
 
_____
 
"Doctor Jackson?"
 
Daniel looked up from his work at the sound of Hammond's voice. "General?"
 
The commander stepped in from the doorway but entered no further into the archaeologist's office. "Son, you are aware of the importance of this mission. I trust you to do your utmost to get these people to feel comfortable around SG1."
 
Frowning, Daniel contemplated the unusual visit from General Hammond. Rarely did he show himself at Jackson's door. "Yes…. sir," he responded, the two words stretched to a four beat. "I'm sure you know that's what I always try to do."
 
"Yes, I do." Hammond hesitated. "So please keep an open mind to their requests."
 
"General? I don't think I'm following you."
 
"Just remember this is primarily a military operation, Doctor. Those people have weapons and defenses, and negotiations may become a bit difficult for a civilian. Colonel O'Neill is in control of negotiations at all times, so your translation skills will be put to the test. It's essential that you are as accurate as possible."
 
Daniel had no response to that. The language of those folks was not too difficult; Daniel had learned it on P3T 124. He had encountered a similar version of the language on two other planets as well, and while not being able to speak it fluently, he was… close. His accent left something to be desired, he knew that; but surely these people would not hold that against his team?
 
"General, are you worried we'll screw this up? That I will?"
 
"No, Dr. Jackson. As I said, I have the utmost confidence in your skills."
 
"Thank you."
 
Hammond nodded his head, then turned and left the cluttered office, certain that his point had not gone across as planned.
 
_____
 
0540 hours, and Daniel's reverie was broken by the voice of his CO. "What time did you get here?"
 
"Oh, uh, about an hour ago. Just wanted to brush up on the language," Daniel grinned smugly at the dishevelled-looking officer, hair still wet and ragged. Jack was leaning with arms crossed against the doorpost.
 
"Think you can do it?"
 
"Yeah." Small doubts were beginning to intrude, now that those around him seemed to question his abilities. "Don't you?"
 
"Oh, yeah. I think you can do anything." Jack 's quick grin retreated as he ventured forward and perched on a stool. "Daniel, we really need some of those defense masts. Or the technology, at least."
 
"And?" Daniel was getting tired of this; were people suddenly questioning his skills?
 
"And so… what if they want something in return that, let's say, offends your sense of justice?"
 
Ah… suddenly it became clear, what Hammond had not said, what Jack was untactfully about to say. Daniel realized what they were all worried about. "And you think I'll say something to blow it, on moral grounds?" His eyes flashed.
 
"I'm just saying, reserve your judgement on this one."
 
"And if they want to do something immoral, Jack? We give them anything they want so that we can have things hanging around guarding the sky?" What would they tell the public those things were for, anyway, should they be able to construct them?
 
"Relax, Daniel. I'm not saying that. I'm just saying don't overreact, okay?"
 
Daniel stared at Jack, speechless.
 
"Look, just make friends. We'll worry about negotiations later. Let's just gain their trust first."
 
"I intended to do that, Jack, but for some reason everyone thinks they need to warn me about some nefarious alien motives. What aren't you telling me?" Had the higher ranks had some radio dealings with these people that had been kept secret from the rest of SG1? From him? How? No one else spoke the language.
 
The CO's eyes widened. "Who else said anything?"
 
"Hammond."
 
"Really?" Jack sounded sincerely surprised. "Honest, Daniel, I didn't know. We don't know anything you don't; I just think these guys aren't going to give us what we want in return for paper cups and frisbees."
 
"Jack, we have no idea whether they want anything we've got. Maybe they'd just agree to be allies?"
 
"Sure. For nothing. They didn't really want us coming, remember?" Only the most curious amongst them had intervened and suggested a preliminary rendezvous.
 
"No kidding, Jack; I was the one who practically had to beg."
 
"Ok, now you can beg in person." Jack grinned, slapping Daniel on the shoulder. "Twenty minutes left to practice that language, buddy. Quit letting meddling colonels waste your time." With that, Jack stepped out of the room, whistling down the hallway, his point made. Hopefully. Publicly having to tell his teammate to shut up was not on the top ten of his agenda for the next few days.
 
_____
 
Twelve uniformed men were waiting to greet SG1 as the four travellers stepped out onto Salmoei soil. The bare grassy park was huge, framed by drab-looking rectangular buildings, their construction looking more like plastic lego blocks than anything else Jack could think of. No windows graced the exteriors, and the buildings were painted a deep olive green. Armed guards were stationed at every doorway, every corner of every building, weapons slung over their shoulders as they stood at attention, unmoving. Glancing over at Daniel, Jack noted the archeologist contemplating the scene with wary eye; as for Carter and Teal'c, they appeared tense but not overly concerned. Warriors and military personnel became used to such sights quickly in one's career, and although it now would no longer phase Daniel all that much either, Jack knew the archeologist would not be at his most comfortable around this mindset. What, or whom, exactly, were these people afraid of?
 
Yet it was the passersby who grabbed the attention of SG1. Women, men, and children alike, although children were few, passed the newcomers quickly, no one looking up to meet their eyes. In fact, the pedestrians looked at nothing but the walkway, their heads held down in an almost fearful portrayal of obedience. Hastily they strode by, refusing to raise their vision from the ground until they were well beyond the small delegation. So. Not only were the overseers of this community seemingly afraid and paranoid; so was the general population afraid of those who ruled over them. Whether it be domination or slavery, Jack quickly ascertained that this government was not a democratic one, and he doubted he was jumping to conclusions. Control was too tight, the population too guarded and uneasy, and he questioned whether that would be caused solely by the proximity of a Stargate.
 
Obviously, this planet had enemies. Overhead were those trademark looming spires, casting the colorful beams that had captured the SGC's attention from the moment the MALP and UAV had landed on this alien soil. And those were what the Pentagon had its five eyes upon.
 
"Welcome," Magistrate Prakiney addressed SG1, the language unfamiliar to three members of the team but his stance crystal clear. Jack recognized this man as the one who had done most of the communicating via MALP radio and viewer, and was now looking the team over from heads to toes. That look of disdain might be Jack's imagination, a permanent downlipping of the chin possibly genetic. However, the CO didn't really think so. Scowls could be perfected over the years; he knew this from experience, and this one was a subtle gem. "Which of you has been the one communicating with us?"
 
"That would be me," Daniel smiled. Daniel was good at ignoring scowls, Jack noted, whether it be lack of awareness or the ability to intentionally ignore and bite the tongue, as the expression goes. Jack found himself guiltily feeling relieved that this discussion was not in English and that it therefore was not he who had to suck up to this character. "I'm Daniel Jackson, this is our team leader, Colonel Jack O'Neill, this is Teal'c, and this is Major Samantha Carter." Jack may not have understood every word, but he did understand the names and cadence of the opening line. He watched the creases in Prakiney's face deepen, and the stances of those other men tighten just a little bit.
 
"I see that this may be your leader, yet you are the only one who is able to speak our language?" the magistrate frowned disapprovingly.
 
Sweat must run down the rivulets in this guy's face before puddling into a deep sea at his feet, Jack caught himself thinking, then turned his attention back to the body language and vocal intonations of his friend. Wishing he could understand these negotiations, he figured this would be a long few days, and silently wished Daniel luck.
 
"I study languages," Daniel offered as a simple explanation.
 
"I see. And you wish to trade with us and become allies."
 
"Yes," Daniel could see Jack and the others trying not to look overly anxious or concerned. The tension in Jack's stance was only succeeding in making Daniel more nervous than he already was. Relax, Jack. I won't screw this up.
 
"We'll first show you to your living space, and then discuss the possibility of getting to know one another."
 
The possibility? Daniel sighed with a polite nod and motioned for his teammates to follow.
 
_____
 
"Well. This is sweet." Jack surveyed the room, its hard metallic cubes likely for sitting on, the long rectangular prisms with indents likely for sleeping on, and lights built straight into the mint green walls. "I'll never complain about the SGC again."
 
"Promise?"
 
"Until I get back. Ok?"
 
Daniel snickered. He should have made a bet on that one.
 
Sinking… no, sitting, not sinking onto the hard cube, Jack addressed his linguist. "So, when's the next duel?"
 
Daniel grimaced. "As soon as we get comfortable, he'll come and get me and we'll begin to discuss the possibility of discussing an alliance."
 
"Comfortable? They may have a long wait." Noting that his younger teammate didn't crack a smile, Jack re-focussed on his own unsettled nerves. "Looks like your work's cut out for you. Anyway, we'll come along to back you up."
 
Daniel nodded. "Just don't expect me to literally translate every word he says."
 
_____
 
"No." Simple and to the point. Very translatable.
 
"No?" Jack's eyebrows made it partway to his hairline, and focussed on his translator. "Excuse me?" What could possibly be wrong with all of them accompanying their linguist?
 
"I think he wants to get to know me first," Daniel concluded. He wasn't too fond of the thought of dealing with these people on his own and had been counting on his team's backup, but this wouldn't be the first time. And since none of the others could speak the language anyway, there wasn't really that much help they could offer. "They're probably intimidated by you. Or Teal'c. It's not that big a deal, Jack. It's not as though you can talk with them."
 
"I was thinking more of being around to tell you to …can it."
 
"As in 'shut up'?" Daniel queried. "You saying you don't trust me? I thought we'd been through th…"
 
"No Daniel, I trust you. I trust you with my life, and yes, even skinny but grandiose detector shields." Jack patted him on the back. "I swear. Now go blow 'em away with your charm."
 
"Oh shut up, Jack." Daniel left with the two escorts. No sense arguing about protocol before introductions had barely even begun.
 
_____
 
If they were trying to be intimidating, it was almost working, except that Daniel had faced down Goa'ulds and foster parents and won. Well, over the Goa'ulds, anyway, but he'd been older by then. For some reason the expressions on these men's faces reminded him more of some of his foster parents.
 
"Have a seat, Daniel Jackson," and the magistrate Prakiney lowered himself onto a hard cube. These people must have very strong backs, Daniel caught himself pondering, following the man's lead. The other eleven individuals took their places around the room as well. "And we will negotiate." Daniel glanced quickly at the group of twelve. Disciples, he realized he was thinking. Enforcers of discipline, keepers of the rules. His mind wandered to the historical significance of the number twelve, before he realized all were staring at him.
 
"Negotiate? Already?" Daniel had been willing to chat and discuss worlds and share trivia, but he wasn't comfortable being the sole voice for the military and the Pentagon. Sole voice for Earth? Wasn't that what Jack got paid for? "Why couldn't my friends be here?"
 
"Because, Daniel Jackson, as the speaker for your little group, you must first convince us that we are wise in choosing to deal with you and those of your world."
 
"Okay… and how do I do that?"
 
"It will be your character we will assess."
 
The blue eyes widened. Was this where he had promised not to screw up? "My character? What do I do?" Daniel looked from one to the other of the twelve men, but their faces were firm, revealing no clues. Maybe they only meant to engage in small talk? Sure. Interrogation? Lessons on Earth's history? He could do that; he could teach them of human virtues and errors, keeping in mind the ability to learn from experience and past mistakes. He could teach them of the fight against the Goa'uld, against slavery.
 
The twelve men pulled their cubes closer, into a tighter circle around Daniel. The archaeologist realized he was not part of the circle, he was the center of it, and nerves started tapping out a beat inside his chest.
 
"Answer some questions about yourself."
 
"Of course." No, they wouldn't intimidate him, no matter how hard they were trying. He'd faced a lot worse; soon they might even come to realize this.
 
"Your people. What do they value?"
 
Daniel's eyes widened. He hadn't been expecting such a blunt opener, but he could deal with it. "We value life. The lives of each other as well as our own. Kindness, compassion. Most areas of my world wish to live in peace, although the sentiment, unfortunately, is not entirely universal. We want to keep our people free; we don't want to end up as slaves to a race of intergalactic enemies who take people as hosts - do you know of the Goa'uld?"
 
Ignoring the question, Prakiney continued. "Tell us about your people. You say they believe in compassion?"
 
"Yes."
 
"They are loyal to one other?"
 
"Definitely. Well, most of them. Don't worry, you can trust us. We won't blow ourselves up or anything." Although with this technology and information going directly to Washington, Daniel himself felt a trace of doubt in his own words.
 
"How do we know you would be caring and loyal to us, an alien race you have just requested to visit yet know nothing about? We know you are interested in acquiring the plans to our upper shields; we think you would do and say anything solely to get your hands on this technology."
 
"My people don't work that way. We wouldn't take advantage of you."
 
"We know nothing of your intentions."
 
"No, I suppose you don't."
 
"You say your people are compassionate. Would they take from us and use what they have received against us?"
 
"No. We would never do that."
 
"What about you, Daniel Jackson? The representative of your kind. Your people must trust you; but are you trustworthy? Would you give of yourself to insure the safety of others?"
 
"Of course. My team and I have done this many times."
 
Pushing up from his chair, Prakiney stood as the others followed, a game well-rehearsed. "Once you have proven this to us, we will then be interested in sharing with your world."
 
"You can read mission reports from our base if you like; you'll see w…"
 
"Now."
 
"What?"
 
"Come."
 
Leading the way from the bare room, Prakiney stopped in the doorway. The look he extended to the other men indicated that they were to make certain that Daniel was tagging along.
 
"Where are we going?"
 
"To begin our second step of negotiations, Daniel Jackson."
 
_____
 
The second doorway off a drab hallway led into another nearly empty room. Other than five metallic sitting cubes, this room had several holes cut into the walls shoulder high, covered off with shutters and obviously used as cabinets of some sort.
 
"Sit."
 
Obliging, Daniel noticed that only Prakiney sat; the others stood at the door and cabinets, contributing to an atmosphere not all that conducive to relaxed concentration. Prakiney pulled his cube to within three feet of Daniel's, facing the stargate traveller and staring him directly in the eye. "We are to get to know you and your people much better now."
 
"I don't understand."
 
"We have your friends contained for the time being. If you are truthful in your values, they will remain unharmed."
 
Daniel's head shot up, his eyes glaring straight and hard into Prakiney's. "My friends are captives?" Was he misinterpreting the word contained? "Why?"
 
"Daniel Jackson." Prakiney leaned back, as far as a backless seat might comfortably allow. The posture was effective; the man looked as though he'd be taking a long slow drag from a cigarette, if he'd had one. "Understand that your people have not been the only visitors to our land. We do have uninvited aliens arriving from time to time on our grounds. Sometimes they are sincere and honest, other times they are not." He dropped forward, staring sharply into Daniel's eyes. "And we pay."
 
"I can understand how you'd be cautious. But my friends are no threat."
 
"And for that there is only one man's word; a man we do not as yet know."
 
"Until you get to know me, I have only my word to give." Daniel was beginning to feel his frustration level peaking. They'd all been right, back at the SGC; he might have his work cut out for him just getting to know these people and gaining their trust. Something inside caused a shiver; the last time he'd had to gain someone's trust he'd ended up in a sarcophagus a dozen times.
 
"This is so. And this could take many planetary rotations."
 
Daniel nodded glumly. SG1 had three days here.
 
"But it does not. We have a way of getting to know our visitors very quickly."
 
Without a word, Daniel lifted his head to observe the standing men. If he waited, they'd tell him more. But they spoke no further, and finally Daniel's impatience and curiosity got the better of him. Besides, his nerves couldn't stand listening to nothing but breaths in the deep stillness.
 
"How?"
 
"You can save your teammates."
 
Daniel remained motionless, his wide eyes poorly hiding his escalating fears. What exactly was going on here? "I would give my life for them, and they know it," he said slowly.
 
"And you shall."
 
Daniel's blood froze where it ran, halfway to his heart. All he could do was stare at the speaker, uncertain of the diplomatic response to words such as those. Was that a threat? or a warning? Or was he again maybe misinterpreting something, jumping to conclusions…
 
Of the twelve men still only Prakiney had spoken, and now he addressed the man at his side, keeping his gaze on Daniel. "Take the woman to the sport room and dispose of her."
 
"What? NO!" Daniel jumped up from his seat, alien hands having anticipated the move, pushing him back down. "You can't be serious! We haven't done anything!"
 
"Correct. You have not proven your integrity nor your commitment to us."
 
"And you expect that to happen by killing one of my teammates?" Daniel was fighting the panic. What the hell was going on here?
 
"No. By killing each of them."
 
"Oh geez." The look of shock and disbelief invaded Daniel's face, his stomach rebelling. His voice came out tight. "You never had any intention of negotiating."
 
Prakiney laughed. "Yes, we do. We negotiate with visitors frequently. As we may yet with you."
 
"With me? No. I'm here as part of a team. We all negotiate together." Daniel bit his lip, trying frantically to think of words that would appease. "Look - when you say you have visitors coming here every so often, are you saying you kill all but one of each group?" Could this be their way of defense, of keeping their planet safe? Trust no one, ask questions that can't be answered, then do away with them all?
 
Was this why their own people seemed so afraid? Any transgressions were dealt with by death? Was one assumed guilty until proven innocent? This wouldn't have been the first time SG1 had encountered such a society.
 
"No; this happens rarely. We dispose of the unworthy, and befriend the rest."
 
"So how does one become worthy?"
 
"By sacrificing for a cause."
 
Daniel drew in some breaths, calming himself as thoughts became steady and clearer. "And so… are you asking me to offer my life for Sam's? For, um, my female teammate?"
 
"No. Not your life, Daniel Jackson. But yes, something of value."
 
"Such as…?"
 
"We have a saying on this world, that for something cherished, a man would give his heart."
 
Daniel stared, his blood running cold. "Literally? That would kill me." Unless they had a sarcophagus.
 
Prakiney continued nonchalantly, as though this were an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it was. "It has become just a figure of speech. These days we allow substitutions," Prakiney seemed almost proud of the modernity and progress. "You may choose an extremity. An arm."
 
"You're not serious." Daniel's gut clenched. Jokes did not appear to be their way of carrying out business.
 
"You are free to leave this room at any time. We will dispose of those with whom you travel."
 
"You're saying you'll kill all of them?"
 
"We will kill no one if you are sincere in your loyalty and values. It will cost you an arm to save the woman."
 
"Or we all die."
 
"Not yourself. You will go free."
 
Damned be detector posts, shields, whatever; Daniel wanted out of here, quickly. He knew Hammond would understand; they could deal with the Pentagon later. If they looked upon this as his screwing up, then so be it; he could deal with the consequences. "Look, we'll all leave. We won't ask for friendship or trade or anything else from you. We've changed our minds; we'll just go home now."
 
"To return with forces of warriors to take what you want from us?"
 
"No. We won't come back."
 
"On this, we have just your word, and you have not yet proven we can trust you. You have arrived; there are only two ways you may leave."
 
Right. Dead, or dismembered. Three to one.
 
"Take the woman to the sport room and dispose of her," Prakiney repeated. The second man bowed his head in agreement, already opening the door.
 
"This one." His head turned to the far wall, staring at nothing, Daniel held out his left arm. Sam's life. This was for Sam's life. He could think of no other way out. He had known that one day, there might be unpleasant things he would have to do…
 
"Roki," the magistrate finally called to a man leaning against a wall. "Label that arm as "woman". Use Daniel Jackson's language."
 
"My language?" Daniel turned swiftly. "He speaks English? You do?"
 
"He does. And one or two of the others. They have learned much from those who have visited here."
 
"Then why the… why didn't you tell us?" Daniel's anger nearly broke free from his stunned spirit.
 
"His job is not to converse but to observe your team, listen to the conversations. We find deceptions and trickery this way. We could not let on that we might be able to intercept any schemes against us."
 
"Their room is bugged? My friends aren't scheming! God!" Daniel shouted in frustration as his sleeve was pulled up. Roki wrote the word 'WOMAN' along the skin of Daniel's forearm in thick black dye.
 
"The woman shall be freed. You may now negotiate for the man you call leader."
 
"What?" Daniel's incredulous eyes filled with strain, his heart skipping painfully. So negotiations had begun.
 
"This arm for him?" The magistrate lifted Daniel's right arm.
 
An arm that needed to feed him, brush his teeth, wash, write. Take photographs, draw, turn pages of his texts…
 
Daniel pulled away. "No."
 
"Take the leader to the sport room and dis - "
 
"No, I need my arm to take care of myself. To eat, shave, button my clothes… "
 
"Your leg then?"
 
The words seemed to float around him, securing themselves into nothingness, his mind reaching out to grasp their meaning. In a fog, a daze, Daniel nodded, swallowing. This wasn't happening, this was nuts, this was nuts.
 
"Which one?"
 
"What the hell difference does it make?" he cried out in frustration. What the hell did it matter.
 
His pants leg was lifted, and the man called Roki wrote 'MAN' along Daniel's left calf in thick black dye.
 
"Now the Jaffa. Arm or leg?"
 
Voice quiet, disbelieving, resignation dropped Daniel's usual sparkling eyes to a dull lifeless gray. "Leg." And his other pant leg was pulled up. 'JAFFA'. What did it matter now; his life was over. His life for those of his team; it had happened before. Virtue, trust, proof. You can have me. Just let them go free. "Are you really going to do this? What will this prove to you?"
 
"Daniel Jackson." For only a moment, it seemed as though Prakiney's tone had softened. "Our methods may appear harsh to you, but over the centuries they have been proven essential. You would not be surprised to know that this is an extremely effective means of judging a people and a civilization."
 
"If you call this civilized."
 
"Call it what you will, yet it works. The sacrifices made by a single man serve to benefit many in the end. We have seen those who would give up their comrades and run home to save themselves. We quickly judge those most worthy of our technology and those who would just abuse it - or worse, use it against us. We have survived, Daniel Jackson, only by being cautious."
 
Daniel sighed, closing his eyes. Centuries-old methods. At least Earth no longer followed in the footsteps of the Middle Ages. "Others have come here; haven't any of them come in groups of five? six?" Four limbs.
 
"There are other sacrifices to make."
 
"What about larger groups?"
 
"I understand what you ask. We always sacrifice only one. That is enough."
 
"How good of you."
 
"Most times new adventurers come only in partners. While it goes much easier for those, it is more difficult for us to judge them."
 
"You know, I just can't bring myself to feel for you."
 
"You have no need for anger. You are still able to change your mind, Daniel Jackson."
 
"Save myself? And then what of my friends?"
 
"They will be disposed of in the sp..."
 
"...sport room, yes, I know. Killed."
 
Prakiney nodded. "But you will go free and be allowed to return home. Your world will not be welcomed here again, and if you return you will be fired upon."
 
"Kill my friends and save myself."
 
"Yes. Save your parts."
 
"Why don't you just let us all go, and fire upon us if we return?"
 
"Because we must judge your people now that you know of us, of where we reside. We must know what to expect from your kind. Believe me, Daniel Jackson, this is the only way that works."
 
Daniel was silent.
 
"Do you wish to be freed?"
 
"No."
 
"Very well. Take him to the sport room."
 
_____
 
The room was a surprise to Daniel; no hunting heads gracing the walls, no deep dark wooden panels or torture machines. In the center of the bright room was a long flat slab covered in sheets, and along the walls were hundreds of small built-in lights. The room was white, clearly illuminating every shiny instrument in the wall holes.
 
"Remove your jacket and long pants."
 
"What? No!"
 
"You must. The fibers will get caught; it may be dangerous."
 
Dangerous? More than... what? Numbly, feeling disconnected from both body and mind, Daniel did as requested. This is nuts, this is nuts, this is nuts.
 
"Lie down."
 
With a final attempt at reinstating sanity, Daniel turned, hands raised in surrender. "Look. Send us home and we won't come back. You have my word - "
 
"Which, at the moment, is worthless. Very soon, however, it will be most valuable. At that time if you choose to return home or to negotiate further, it shall be your choice."
 
Daniel was guided to the sheet-covered slab, his vision blurring amidst a frazzled collection of nerves. The thumping in his chest couldn't be his heart; it was a demolition ball trying to punch the first hole through concrete.
 
His head was strapped down, and then his waist and right arm.
 
Oh god.
 
A head loomed in his graying vision; Daniel knew he was going to pass out.
 
"You can still change your mind."
 
"Will you let my friends go?" he asked weakly, fighting the nausea.
 
"No."
 
"Then I'm not changing my mind." Daniel closed his eyes, opening them again when he felt a prick in his upper arm.
 
"You won't feel too much pain. We have given you something to numb the sensations in your arm. There is no need to worry, the machine is quick; it will all be done within seconds and the seams secured without infection. There will be very little blood." Prakiney's confidence was dead-ending; had he intended this to be welcome news, it was backfiring. Sensing Daniel's fear and tension, one of the men who had not yet spoken broke in to reassure him. "Relax; we know what we are doing. You are not among the first."
 
Daniel felt knots in his abdomen tightening. He couldn't throw up; he couldn't even lift his head. "I think I'm going to be sick." Moments later he felt a mask over his mouth, and waves of air.
 
"Breathe," they said.
 
Daniel breathed. His heart pounded through his entire body, and his cheeks felt hot and wet.
 
Something heavy slid up his arm; he absurdly opened his eyes to look.
 
A thick round metallic section of cylindrical machinery had been fitted to his upper left arm. He could see the sharp inner ring, and knew exactly what it was for. Gasping, the intake of tubed air nearly flooding his lungs, he felt more wetness on his cheek, but was too preoccupied to concern himself with tears. And he breathed.
 
This was only the beginning; by the end of the next hour or two he would be begging to be disposed of.
 
But first he would be a courageous, honourable Earthling and save his companions. And then Jack would kill him.
 
A wider cylinder was being placed onto his upper left thigh, then one was being fitted onto the right. Staring at the ceiling, Daniel knew by touch all they were doing. Bindings were fastened, both legs now held down tight.
 
"This is your last chance to back out." The man's hands were on a lever on the outer rim of the metal arm tube. A lever that with one swift movement would change Daniel's life forever. A lump rising in the back of his throat threatened to choke him, as the air mask was removed to allow him to speak.
 
"And you'll let my friends go?"
 
"No."
 
"Then do what you have to do." Daniel swallowed, closed his eyes and turned away. He braced himself for the blade that would not hurt too much. His arm was numb; couldn't move his fingers. Wouldn't move his fingers, ever again. He could still feel his legs, though. Apparently they hadn't numbed those extremities yet. What the hell were they waiting for?
 
"You are prepared?"
 
"To see you in hell?" The voice was whispered into the sheets. "Just do it."
 
And with a series of clicking noises, the mechanical tube slid back down his arm.
 
And the bindings were released from his head and waist, the cylinders from his legs.
 
"Get dressed. You may go."
 
For a moment Daniel didn't hear, didn't comprehend. His breathing was heavy, his ears and head ringing with the sudden increase in blood pressure, his stomach in tight knots.
 
Hands were sitting him up, pulling him from the slab. "Step three of negotiations. Your friends may now join us," the oldest man said in English.
 
And Daniel finally realized they'd had their answer all along.
 
_____
 
Adrenaline and shock forced him to move, but the numbness set in like a camouflaged predator, matching his temporarily lifeless arm. Only, that part of him was beginning to tingle.
 
Weakly, stomach churning and a fist pounding at his brain, Daniel opened the door to the sitting room where SG1 had been sequestered. There were tables, and fruit, and drink containers of some sort. And lots of sunshine pouring in through the roof holes, signalling a bright and cheery day. His legs suddenly turning to rubber, Daniel's heart was still jumping like a drowning frog. Wearily he leaned on the door.
 
"Daniel! You weren't gone very long," Sam looked up in surprise.
 
Daniel cleared his throat, forcing words out. "You've been here all morning?"
 
"Couple of hours."
 
"They advised us to wait here until your return, Daniel Jackson."
 
"So what's going on, Daniel?" Carter frowned; her teammate was growing increasingly pale. "Are you alright?"
 
"Um… uh, they said we can begin trade talks now."
 
"Good job!" Jack rose from the floor, preferring it to the hard seats, a small grin forming. "That wasn't so hard."
 
"I.. I'll be right back." Turning swiftly, Daniel bolted away from the room.
 
"Sir, should I…" Sam turned to her CO in concern.
 
"I'll go."
 
But Magistrate Prakiney and his colleagues were approaching from the other direction, and within moments they stood in the doorway. Their dress was more casual than it had been, their uniforms hidden under loose robes, and their expressions were more friendly - cheerful, even. Sort of.
 
"We are pleased to extend a welcome to begin negotiations. You may call me Advocate Rig." The eldest man had spoken - in English.
 
"Well, Advocate. Glad to do business with you. So tell me… why didn't you mention you could speak English?" The accusing tone was not absent from Jack's voice, and warning signals were fireworking in his head, sparking in multiple bursts.
 
"Our apologies. This room was being recorded. We had to be able to trust your intentions."
 
"Oh. Oh…" Jack considered this. "Bugged." It wasn't unlike what the SGC would have done, under the circumstances. "Fair enough."
 
Rig bowed. "Follow me."
 
"No, if it's all the same with you, we'll just wait for Daniel."
 
Rig nodded. "Agreed. He will be useful to you; he is a worthy man."
 
"Yes, he is."
 
"Your best?"
 
"One of them." Jack searched the man's face warily. "And how do you know that?"
 
"His willingness to sacrifice told us much."
 
"What?" What the hell had Daniel done this time? "What are you talking about?"
 
"It is no longer of importance."
 
"Like hell it isn't." Daniel had been upset, and there had to be a damn good reason.
 
"Do not be concerned. All is well. We are willing to negotiate."
 
And yet… those words sounded hollow, with the reassurance of a captain telling his crew that the holes in their boat were for decoration.
 
O'Neill's voice was stern and laced with obvious concern. "Carter, Teal'c, stay here. I'm going to find Daniel."
 
_____
 
Jack hesitated, still not quite sure what had gone on behind those closed doors, yet he had the gnawing suspicion that he wasn't going to be pleased when he found out. He headed for their quarters, trying to decide whether to shout at Daniel if he were to find him there, or…
 
But Daniel hadn't made it to the room. Jack found the crouched figure leaning against the wall around the corner of the hallway, eyes closed, breathing heavily.
 
Geez. "Daniel." Jack slipped towards him, kneeling by his distraught friend. "What's going on?"
 
Daniel either had not heard or could not answer.
 
"Daniel?" There was something not escaping the wary eye of the team leader; the younger man's open cuff had drifted a few inches up his arm, as he sat with palms resting on raised knees. Jack's vision caught sight of two black markings sneaking under Daniel's sleeve, AN; Daniel, eyes still closed and head leaning back against the wall, gave no resistance as Jack pushed it up further. "Woman? What's this? Daniel?"
 
The words, muffled in deep breaths, shed no light on the mystery. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do."
 
"Daniel - "
 
"They said they'd kill Sam. I didn't know… didn't know they were bluffing."
 
Jack sat back against the wall, taking a moment. "So what did you do?"
 
"Sir?" Carter's body appeared around the corner, but upon seeing Daniel's emotional state she halted, hesitant to approach. Instead, she motioned her head towards the bend, stepping back into the adjacent hallway.
 
"Be a minute, Daniel." Jack patted his friend on the arm and stepped away.
 
"Carter?" Jack recognized that unmistakable hint of pain in Sam's eyes, eyes that could give away information of the heart just as readily as Daniel's so often did.
 
"Sir - they told us why they now trust us."
 
_____
 
Jack was furious.
 
Heading forcefully back to Daniel after sending Carter to gather up Teal'c and their belongings, he crouched again by his friend's side, watching as the younger man tried to regain composure and stop the intermittent shudders. Not knowing what else to do, Jack sat back and gingerly placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, the slight trembling evident beneath his fingers, and stared hard at the opposite wall. "Damn them."
 
Side by side they remained, the time pressing on. Only Jack shifted, to rest his hand on Daniel's back, until slowly Daniel's breaths quieted and the involuntary quivering had subsided. Jack gave a gentle squeeze to his friend's neck, noting the change in tension.
 
"I'm sorry." The voice was a soft whisper.
 
"What? For what?"
 
"I didn't know what else to do."
 
"Daniel, I don't - "
 
"They were going to kill you. They said it was the only way to know us." Daniel dared to glance over at Jack, just for a moment, his eyes red and swollen. "It scared the hell out of me."
 
"Daniel, you had no choice."
 
"No, you didn't." And that was Carter's soft voice. Stepping over quietly and lowering herself gracefully to the floor, she took Daniel's hand in hers. Together they sat, Sam on one side, Jack on the other. In the periphery of his vision Jack sensed Teal'c standing just around the bend where the two hallways joined, guarding his friends, keeping an eye on the semi-private surroundings.
 
Daniel released his stiff muscles, straightening both legs. The outlet he had needed had eased the tension and pent-up fear; he could feel his body relaxing, his mind shifting back to the present, back to his surroundings and reason for having come. It was over. Ashamed as he felt of his fear, of this weak behaviour, his heart knew that he had done the right thing. There had been no other options.
 
Yet, he had believed there to be no other options that time with the sarcophagus, either. His teammates had felt differently, but they had not blamed him. At least this time they hadn't been enslaved; the only one who would have paid would have been Daniel himself.
 
Jack rubbed his friend's back. "Doing better?"
 
Daniel nodded. "I'll be okay." His heart had settled to a slower rhythm, his head still pounding but clearer. He felt almost strong enough to stand.
 
"Good." On a whim, Jack motioned to Daniel's pants leg. "Mind?"
 
But Daniel still seemed dazed, not comprehending. O'Neill leaned over and slid the cuff up a few inches. "Man?"
 
For a moment Daniel barely noticed. Then his head shot up and he caught the direction of Jack's glare. Quietly he nodded, rapidly pulling the hem back down. "That leg was for you."
 
"Oh god." The whisper issued from Carter.
 
Beside him, Jack's expression was dark, deep. Shit. "Come. We'll go home, get some beer and a thick steak."
 
"No, Jack. They're willing to negotiate."
 
"We're not trading with anyone who'd do this, Daniel. I don't trust them."
 
"We need those beams - "
 
"Not this way."
 
Daniel paused. "What will you tell Hammond? Don't tell him what I did, please - "
 
"Sorry, Daniel. I don't want anyone coming back here. That means we tell Hammond, we tell the Pentagon, I don't care who else. Anyway, I think they ought to know what you did for us." For them.
 
"Please…"
 
"No. We're going home." With a hand, Jack pulled Daniel to his feet.
 
_____
 
The delegation followed them slowly through the park towards the stargate. Few people were out and about, but those who were again refused to exhibit any curiosity, keeping their heads tucked down, their brisk strides continuing towards whatever destination they were headed. "But we have not decided to trade - "
 
"Don't want to trade with you, Rig."
 
Solemn gazes bore into them, features much as they had first appeared when SG1 had stepped out of the gate. "Yet we have established trust."
 
"I don't trust you," Jack spat back. "My world doesn't trade with those of questionable ethics."
 
Daniel looked up sharply, a slight hint of humour beginning to decorate his face. Thought it was me you didn't trust to say something like that, Jack. Jack appeared unaware of the irony; if he realized it he didn't let on.
 
"We would not have hurt him."
 
"Just scared the shit out of him. No problem there, huh?"
 
"It told us much."
 
"Yeah, so did your actions." They were at the gate, and silently Jack motioned Sam to dial home. With some misgivings, he knew that Daniel's ordeal may not be enough to keep the Pentagon from insisting on others returning to trade with these people, now that the doors had been unlocked and the Salmoeians so willing and agreeable. With regards to his own position he could not completely break these ties nor anger these people, but he could at least put on a good show, for Daniel's sake. "Look," he turned to the waiting group, "I can't speak for my superiors, but I won't be bringing my own team back. If any more of my people come, give me your word - and that's all I'll have, by the way," Jack scowled, "that you're done with your games."
 
A head bowed in agreement, and eleven others followed.
 
A pleasure doing business with you did not surface to his lips, as Jack gently guided Daniel through the event horizon. Home, to scrub off the remains of Daniel's sacrifice to his teammates.
 
<--- back home
 
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