Ratings: There'll be implications of mature themes, nudity, suggested rape(real minor), that such, but no details, which to me, makes this suitable for mature teens and up, but really, it's up to you to decide for yourself.

Disclaimer: Woot! As if I'd be writing fanfic if I owned 'em! ;)

Timeline: Some time during the fifth season.

Author's note: I started this a couple years ago, never posted because I wanted to finish it first, then RL took me down a different path and it was put aside. I'm back now, freshly moved and settled, and with my own office to write in even. How cool is that! I do already have more than half of this story written. But regardless, don't expect quick posts. I'm doing a major edit as I go, (changing some key details even) so the version on my website is a little outdated, but woot, at least I'm finally posting it, eh? ;)

Oh, before I go further, this is definitely a Gen fic. But it's Jack, and Daniel centric. Sam shows up at the halfway mark (in the story) and Teal'c near the end. I usually write the whole team in from the get-go, but this is how it wrote itself. .

Enjoy!

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The square was packed, and not surprisingly so. It wasn't unusual to have more customers than normal in the market on trading days, but from the looks of things the whole city of Galeka had shown up. A lot of rumors had been spread around, and everyone wanted to see if they were true.

"With truth?" "A shipment of slaves from Okata?" "They haven't traded slaves with us for generations!"

The whispers ran through the crowd like a wildfire. Lady Omila pursed her lips with disdain. She rarely came down to the market herself, but even she had been intrigued by what she'd heard. Enough that as her Guardsmen parted the growing crowd, other whispers joined the throng and people stared at her passing, some having the courtesy to bow.

Lady Omila and her entourage slowly made their way through the market to where the trading would be conducted. Trading had a field all to itself and was raised up on a platform for easier viewing. The normal cage stood off to the right, already containing four slaves as their sellers met with the Trader to pay the required fee for trading and reregistering their slaves with the city.

They would be traded first, but with a quick scan, Omila already knew none of them interested her. They had been cleaned up for the event, but they were all marked. She could tell from the expressions on their faces. No, her interest lay in the cage on the left.

It had been recently erected, especially for today. Three slaves stood inside with their hands shackled, but their necks free of collars; a testament that the rumors were true. These were new slaves, virgins to their place of service.

Pushing closer to the trading ground, Omila gave them a closer look. They were dressed strangely, unlike anyone from Bethro or even Okata. Omila didn't even think Okata had any slaves left, to send some now was peculiar.

"A good day for trading, isn't it my Lady?"

Omila turned to the voice with an internal groan that she was careful to hide. "Greetings Lord Haken," Omila replied with a thin smile.

Haken approached, with two of his own Guardsmen following just behind him. Then, greeting her with a smile, he turned his attention to the trading platform, greed shining in his eyes. "The bidding will be high I'm afraid."

"Surely, not a problem for you, Lord Haken," Omila murmured, but had to work hard to suppress her disgust. His was the second richest House in Bethro, next to hers, but had a reputation for abusing his slaves to the point of death. That wasn't her style, and she didn't much care for his association.

The man gave her a sickeningly sweet smile. "Nor for you, my Lady." Then with a bow, he made his way to the other side of the crowd where many of Bethro's high standing House owners mingled. It wasn't often they gathered, for any purpose, and she was sure a greedy businessman like Haken would take full advantage of the situation.

Omila once again had to suppress her feelings for the man, but she must not have hid them very well because her Chief Guardsman, Rakel, leaned in close, and murmured with suggestive threat, "I could always pay him a personal visit, my Lady?"

Lips twitching into a smile, Omila relaxed. Briefly entertaining the thought, she glanced back at her Chief and firmly told him, "No, Rakel. To disrupt the flow of business at this time would not be favorable."

"As you wish, my Lady."

Unfortunately, Haken was right about one thing, the bidding would be high. She must decide now if there were any slaves she wanted. Looking into the cage, Omila watched curiously as the three new slaves stood at one end, their heads bowed towards each other. At first Omila thought it was from fear, as many slaves often acted before a trading, but the more she watched, the more she realized they were discussing something.

Then one of them looked up and around at the crowd. His skin was white like all slaves, and his head had silvered with age, but Omila could already see he was far from bowed or unfit, more likely the opposite. As his uncannily alert eyes scanned the square, Omila knew instantly her curiosity was too high to resist buying him today.

Then the silver haired slave turned back to the other two, speaking quietly to them. They nodded, as if responding to instructions or orders, causing Omila's interest to pique even further.

The other two were younger than the silver haired man, but visibly just as fit, even the woman. She was a rather beautiful woman, even with her hair so short, but unlike other Lords and Ladies, Omila wasn't attracted to the use of females as personal attendants. Likely, as new blood she would be used by some Lord or Lady for breeding. Omila reasoned the third slave was around the same age as herself, and of the three he was perhaps the most common among them, except for the seeing aid he wore. Omila had only ever permitted a few of her slaves with such things, but had never before seen them on the face of any slaves outside her House.

By the time the Trader called the crowd to attention, there were no less than thirty slaves crowded into the right cage. Everyone was taking advantage of the large crowd today, but Omila didn't care about any of them, her interest lay solely on the newcomers. As the others were slowly traded to the cheering of the crowd, Omila carefully watched the new slaves' reactions.

Did they even know they would be traded today? Omila wondered. The day progressed and still the uncollared slaves remained calm, with only the occasional word passing between them. When the last of the common slaves had been sold, the time at last came and the crowd suddenly got even louder in their excitement.

The Trader, knowing he had the full attention of everyone in the square, played up to his part by grandiosely throwing open the door to the cage and gesturing for the new slaves to come out. The watching guards tensed, their pain sticks at the ready in anticipation of trouble, but the three slaves remained in the cage, simply standing there.

The crowd was too noisy to make out what the Trader was saying to them, but Omila could see him gesturing to the woman. She didn't move, steadily returning his gaze. Then the silver haired man said something, and the woman looked over at him with a peculiar look on her face. She nodded to him, and then proceeded to walk out of the cage. This must have angered the Trader, for as the female slave reached the door he roughly grabbed her arm, raising a hand to hit her across the face.

The remaining slaves jumped into action immediately, but the guards were ready, pushing the pain sticks through the bars and lighting the slaves with the resulting electric shock. They fell instantly to the ground in pain, but even then Omila could see the silver haired man fighting back to his feet until he was struck again.

This of course only riled the crowd on, and with the woman now standing between two guards, the Trader had to call three times before he could get the crowd to quiet down enough to start the bidding. Omila continued to hold her place as the bid, now between the Lords and Ladies of Galeka, rose higher and higher. Like the female slave, she was more interested in the remaining occupants of the cage.

The door had been shut again and the two men inside were slowly getting back to their feet. There was pain and anger in their eyes, but not because of the pain sticks. And there was a spirit there, too. Unlike anything Omila had ever seen in a slave before.

Then the bid was over and a price for the woman set. Omila wasn't too surprised to see one of Haken's Guardsmen walk up to the platform to pay for the slave. The silver haired man watched intently as the female was led away into the crowd, his face as hard as stone as he studied everything about the man who had traded for her.

The guards around the cage lit their sticks even before the cage door was opened again. The message was clear, and giving the other slave a few last words, the silver haired man didn't even wait for the Trader to call for one of them before stepping from the cage. Tensing even more, everyone waited to see what the slave would do, but he walked smartly up to the Trader and stood waiting to be sold like any other slave was supposed to do. Only he wasn't like any other slave, and stood boldly facing the crowd, his very stance a challenge.

"He will be trouble that one," Rakel murmured at Omila's side.

"I want him," Omila stated, having already made up her mind.

Rakel seemed surprised. "Are you sure? I do not believe that slave is libel to ever fully submit to his place. The trouble of guarding him would not be worth your time."

But Omila smiled, even more sure now than before. "There are other ways to control someone, Rakel. We'll take them both."

"Yes, my Lady." Rakel consented, and then left her side to approach the bidding group. The second the other Lords and Ladies realized Omila was bidding, half of them pulled out while the other half made their bids with hesitation. Well although Omila knew she could get this slave at a considerably cheaper price than the woman had been sold for, it was also a part of the social standing that half the bidders were backing out in token respect to her, so she indicated to Rakel to bid high. So high in fact that it caused the crowd to murmur. They had needed a reminder of her standing anyway.

When the Trader ended the bid to the cheer of the crowd, Omila sent a different Guardsman to fetch her new slave, indicating to Rakel to stay put. Smugly, she hid a grin as the rest of the Lords and Ladies practically sighed with resignation. No one would dare bid against her this time. She had the choice to buy this next slave extremely cheap and no one would dare oppose her, but as before, Omila indicated to Rakel to pay high. And much to the shock of the crowd, this last slave was bought at the same price as the other.

Rakel and the other Guardsmen returned with the two slaves in tow, the rest of her men formed a protective entourage that fanned out behind her. Omila could see a couple of the Lords and Ladies, including Lord Haken, begin to drift towards them and quickly turning away, said to Rackel, "Let us go. This crowd is too thick for my tastes."

They had less of a problem getting the crowd to part for them this time, and almost all of them bowed to Omila as she passed.

x.x.x.x.x.x

Things had not turned out well.

Jack looked over to where Daniel was walking beside him, wondering silently how the normally peaceful anthropologist was going to handle being a slave. Jack wasn't so sure how he himself was going to handle it. Not well he imagined, not well at all.

They had left Earth three days ago, gating to P8W849, Okata, to what was supposed to be a world of fields, agriculture, and friendly people. They had had no ideas about what kind of civilization lay beyond those fields until things were too late. This wasn't so uncommon in their missions. But this had been the first time they'd been mistaken as runaway slaves from another planet, this planet, Bethro. It didn't even occur to them that the problem would exist. They certainly seemed to find out about a lot of problems that way, Jack internally grumbled.

He wondered what it would have been like if Teal'c had been with them, but the jaffa had been away with Bra'tac meeting fellow jaffa rebels and doing something jaffa-y. Personally, Jack was kind of glad his friend hadn't been caught up in all of this. It might not have convinced the natives anyway. Where the jaffa was dark skinned, these natives were a coppery red-brown skin in color. Still, it was a high difference from the white of their 'slaves.'

In Teal'c's place Captain Jenkins had been assign to SG1. When the natives of '849 had ambushed them Jenkins had managed to escape. If he followed protocol, the young Captain would have beelined it for the gate. Jack had to believe Jenkins had successfully returned to the SGC for his own peace of mind. Now the rest of them just had to find a way home.

Jack sighed, his eyes hardening in silent determination. Then Daniel caught his attention, and edging closer, murmured, "Jack, what do we do?"

Jack looked up, meeting the gaze of the watching head guard before looking at Daniel. "We do what we have to to stay alive." It apparently wasn't much comfort to the anthropologist, so Jack added, "Then we find Carter." But it was the most he was going to say. It didn't look well to discuss escape plans in front of one's captor after all.

Daniel nodded, and then sighed, but he didn't ask anything else.

The city was an odd mix of architecture. Back in the cage Daniel had gone on about a great many different cultures that the natives here could have descended from, but all that told Jack was that even their anthropologist was stumped. The buildings certainly looked well constructed, and the city was a city, not some glorified town. Something a person would almost expect from a culture well developed, but the people still acted like they were stuck in the dark ages.

Soon they entered a stable where horses were waiting for them. Jack and Daniel were paired up with a guard and the group wasted little time in leaving. The Colonel was a little surprised to find that this woman who'd 'bought' them was riding her own horse. He'd expected her to have some sort of ornamentally covered carriage or something, but she road at the head of her procession with the head guard at her side and showing no shame for it. From the reaction of the crowd today, Jack knew this woman had to be someone of great importance.

Fantastic, he silently growled to himself, but then put his attention to watching everything they passed. He'd have to remember the way back if they were going to find Carter again and get back to the stargate. He didn't care how long it took, but he was going to get his team home!

There was no gate or wall around the city, but it was clear where the city ended and the farmlands began. They followed the road through patches of forest and multiple fields of crops for several hours. Then, as they came over a hill, Jack could see a small mountain rising up into the sky. An hour later put them at the base of that mountain and heading directly towards a very large estate built along its side. Jack could see another complex further along the base and wondered briefly if it overlooked a mining complex. Sweet. More mines.

But they didn't veer from the path and road straight up to the gates of the estate. A horn sounded to announce their approach and the thick gates parted to let the party enter the complex. Inside, the courtyard it was lush and green with gardens lining the tall walls. It was a real palace.

As they stopped and dismounted, slaves came to collect their horses. They were all very healthy looking, unlike the ones they'd seen at the auction today, but like the others, they all wore the odd silver collars around their necks, small black gems hanging from the edge. Jack wasn't so keen to find out if there was anything more to these collars than aesthetic values, but he guessed it was likely.

Then a slave dressed all in black and about Daniel's age, came to meet them from the inner structure. "Lady Omila, you are being requested in conference." The man's face was placid, but Jack could see the sneer in his eyes as he turned his gaze to Jack and Daniel.

Omila sighed. "They couldn't wait, could they, Rakel?" She murmured with a smile to the head guard.

"You made quite a statement today, my Lady," Rakel replied, also smiling.

"I guess I did, didn't I?" Then she turned back to the slave and said, "Inform them I will be there in a moment." The slave cast one last look at Jack and Daniel before bowing and heading back inside.

"Would you like me to get your new slaves settled?" Rakel asked. Jack found himself grinding his teeth as he regarded this big man. He would be a problem.

Turning to look at them, Omila's lips twitched with humor. "No. For now, separate them and show them to some rooms. I wish to have time to deal with them personally."

Rakel nodded consent and Jack found himself being yanked away by half of the guards. The other half took Daniel, who suddenly looked very nervous. Catching the man's eye before they were too far, Jack nodded to him, and internally sighed in relief as the anthropologist nodded back, outwardly relaxing. They were going to get through this. And they were going to find Carter and get back home.

Those thoughts held firmly in his mind through everything that was to come.

x.x.x.x.x.x

Omila had found herself abnormally busy for the rest of that day, so much so that she decided to just wait till the next morning to focus on her newest challenge. By then, she had rested and finished setting up most of the extra business that had come in. Thimen, the slave who served as her Aid, could handle the rest. Her statement the day before had impacted Bethro just as she'd suspected it would, and everyone was eager to make new agreements. She even had extra business coming in from the other cities. By the end of the month she will have earned back more than double what she had spent on her new slaves.

Her new slaves. That thought didn't fully fit well with them for some reason. "Rakel, do you believe they are from Okata?" Omila questioned as she took her usual morning tea from the young slave patiently waiting. Other than Rakel and another of the Guardsmen, the room was empty. It was how Omila preferred it. She had her slaves in attendance if she needed them, but she really had far too much business to attend to to be caught up by finery. The room was large but elegant, with a soft chair for her comfort and a desk to the side already covered in reports. Unlike other Houses, she was the last of her family, and she didn't trust her business to anyone else.

Rakel looked startled by Omila's question, and replied with a frown. "Where else could they be from, my Lady?"

Omila sipped at her tea, and satisfied, she motioned for the young slave to leave the room before saying to Rakel, "I suppose it doesn't much matter anyway. They are here now and must be dealt with. What have you to tell me about them so far, Rakel?"

The Chief Guardsmen waited till the door closed behind the slave before finally voicing his concern. "They are biding their time, my Lady."

"Whatever for?" Omila asked, truly confused.

"They do not believe they are slaves," Rakel told her. "You will never be able to trust them, Omila."

Omila frowned at Rakel. He rarely called her by name, even when they were children. "Maybe not, but as I said before, there are other means of control."

Rakel's face took on a pained expression, but he didn't voice his objections. Instead he asked, "What is it about them that interests you so much?"

"They are different, Rakel. And it has been a long time since I was faced with something different." Omila waited another moment, deciding on a course of action, and then told him, "Bring me the silver haired one."

"As you wish." Rakel left and returned with the man, along with two more Guardsmen, a testament to how much Rakel believed this slave to actually be dangerous.

The silver haired man stood silently before her, giving her as much scrutiny as she was giving him. This was the first time she could really look him over. He was still dressed in his strange clothing with the shackles about his wrists, but she could see now that well he was very nicely filled out and muscular, his features were a little drawn. He likely had not been fed for days, she realized. That was easily fixed. Then she met his brown eyes and saw once again the spirit there that had so intrigued her.

"What is your name?" Omila asked him.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill," The man replied, his voice calm and steady even as his eyes hardened.

"That is a rather long name."

"Colonel is my rank."

"Rank?" Omila questioned with a mocking smirk. "Surely not. You are a slave."

"Not where I come from lady!" The man's caustic remark was full of loathing.

Raising his hand in warning, Rakel growled out, "You will show proper respect to Lady Omila!" The man just turned his hard glare on the Chief Guardsmen, openly willing to take the blow.

"Rakel!" Omila rebuked before it could go any further. Rakel immediately backed down, and Omila cautiously approached the new slave. "Jack," she said, testing the strange name. "I'd rather you spoke openly right now. You will learn respect in time."

"My respect is earned, not freely given," Jack told her, an edge to his voice.

Omila thought about that. Rakel was right, this one would be difficult to control, but not impossible. "Where ever it is you came from, it means nothing to me. You are here now, and I paid good money for you. Respect or not, you will learn your place."

"I will not be a willing slave," Jack told her quite bluntly, but Omila just nodded, and then motioned to the Guardsmen off to the side. He left the room and came back a minute later with two slave collars in hand. Taking them, Omila set one of them on her desk then motioning to Jack, ordered, "Kneel."

He didn't move of course, and it took Rakel to force the man down to his knees. Omila walked over with the collar open and slipped it around Jack's neck, the back snapping closed with its unbreakable lock and forever sealing this man to his destiny of slavery. Then she pulled out the small black pearl like stone that signified her house and attached it to the center loop on the collar. "This tells everyone you belong to me."

She stepped back and watched as he automatically reached up and tugged on the collar. They always did. "It doesn't come off," she told him with some humor. "And in case you're wondering how it works…" she began, trailing off as she opened her hand to let the demonstration finish her sentence. Inside her hand was a small device that fit in her palm, sitting there by way of a thin bracelet and ring.

As her hand opened, a soft glow radiated from the device and instantly Jack began to react. Omila watched amazed as Jack curled into himself, clenching his teeth to keep from crying out. Most screamed the first time they felt the effects of the collar, as well as the second and the third. They generally didn't need to experience the collar more than three times in their life.

After a while, Omila finally unclenched her will on the device at her control and Jack lay curled on the floor, his body fiercely shaking as he struggled for breath. "Will you now do as I order?" Omila asked him.

Jack didn't look up at her, but his voice was clear. "No."

Again she opened her hand, releasing the power of the collar to its full extent. Jack only curled up tighter, his hands gripping his arms with white knuckles, digging nails making little red marks against white skin. Still he refused to cry out. Omila released him from the torture with mixed feelings of awe and confusion. Why would a slave fight so hard? "Ask for it to stop, Jack." Omila said gently.

But he only growled out, "Never!" And she was forced to rebuke him once again. This time she didn't stop till Jack passed out from the pain. There was no point in continuing things this way. She needed another way to gain his control.

Turning to Rakel, Omila was surprised to see her Chief Guardsmen looking at the unconscious slave with pity in his eyes. Meeting her eyes Rakel simply explained, "I do not believe he is from Okata, my Lady." Omila frowned, but didn't push the issue.

"Have him cleaned and dressed for the First Order."

"My lady!" Rakel exclaimed in open alarm, but Omila smiled at him reassuringly.

"He is not ready yet, but he will be, Rakel. He will need to remain in his own room for now, with plenty of rest and as much food as he will eat. He will not likely wake till tomorrow, but for now, I want to see the other slave."

"As you wish."

x.x.x.x.x.x

Daniel paced his room. He couldn't think of anything else to do.

Despite the fitful night of sleep, he was still exhausted, and hungry, but no one had come since they'd left him there the day before, and the guards outside seemed quite intent to ignore him.

Then, tired of pacing, or just too tired to pace, Daniel finally sat down again. "Now what?" Pushing away his exhaustion, he rubbed at his sore eyes. It'd been four days since they'd first left the SGC. Four days, and not only were they no longer on P8W849, but chances of a rescue were slim. By now the SGC might even consider them dead. During their time on '849, Okata, Daniel hadn't been able to get much out of the natives. It was almost as if the people on Okata equally hated and feared slaves. He could only guess it had to do with the politics and relationship Okata had with this planet, Bethro. Still, no rescue team had come, and while Jack had assured them Captain Jenkins would have made it back to the SGC, Daniel wasn't so sure.

The lock to his door suddenly clicked open, causing the anthropologist to jump before hurriedly getting to his feet. For one brief second Daniel hoped it might be Jack, but when the door swung open there were only the guards.

"Come with me," one of them directed. "The Lady Omila wishes to see you."

"Ah, sure." Jack had told them back in the cage that they had to do what ever they could to stay alive, remain together, and get back to the gate. The remaining together hadn't worked out so well, Sam was who knows where now, and Daniel wasn't altogether sure he was going to get to see Jack again, either.

First things first. Stay alive, and to do that he had to remain calm. It's not like this was the first time they'd been prisoners. He'd faced down Ra long before he had learned who the goa'uld really were. Personally, Daniel would rather this was some goa'uld stronghold. Then at least he'd know what to expect.

They led him to a room deep within the large complex where Omila waited. Seeing her at a desk covered with paperwork instead of on some gawky thrown completely threw him for a loop. From the events the day before, he would have guessed she was royalty, or the next thing to it on this planet. Daniel frowned, his curiosity calming him like nothing else could. Omila approached, walking partially about him as she sized him up. A little self-consciously Daniel twisted about, trying to keep eye contact with her.

"What is your name," she finally asked, coming back to stand in front of him.

"Daniel Jackson." He replied, and then dared to ask, "Where am I? And where's Jack?"

Omila smirked at him, replying, "You will see your friend later. This is the House of Oketena, the richest House in all of Bethro. I am Omila. I own this House."

Daniel nodded, taking in the information. He wanted badly to ask another question but didn't think he should push it, so instead he just waited for her to speak.

Omila's eyes narrowed as she regarded him, and then she questioned. "Where are you from?"

"Earth."

"Earth?"

"It's ah," Daniel automatically looked around for something to draw on. The symbol had been on their jackets, but they had been taken back on Okata. "It's another world," he finally answered a bit lamely. "We came through the stargate."

"Why?"

"Because we're explorers," Daniel told her, hoping for a moment that if he explained the situation to her, she might be willing to help them.

Omila shook her head. "Slaves are not explorers."

"Well, where I come from, there are no slaves."

"Impossible," she disputed, "You are of the slave race."

"No. I'm Caucasian, but I'm still human. Just like you." And that, Daniel realized, was his fatal mistake. A look of anger flared across Omila's face, and in the next instant Daniel found himself quite painfully down on his knees.

Omila approached with the silver collar in hand, her face still livid from his insult. She slid the collar about his neck and hung a black stone from its base. "You are my slave now, Daniel. You will work for me, if you are lucky, the rest of your life."

Daniel didn't even get a chance to finger the new accessory before it flared to life. With a cry of pain he found himself on his side desperately willing for the torture to end. It was unlike anything he had experienced, worse than the pain stick, different than the ribbon device, but easily just as painful in a far more encompassing manor. For one brief moment he actually thought he was going to die, but then it was over, and he was left heaving.

It was a minute before he was able to gain control of his breathing again. When he was sure he wasn't going to pass out or throw up, Daniel cautiously pushed himself back to his knees and looked up at the watching woman. "Where's Jack?" He forced out between deep breaths.

"If you don't give me any problems, you will get to see your friend." Omila responded. She didn't even ask if he would cooperate, Daniel knew the answer was plainly written on his face. "Take him to be washed. He may see his friend, and then take him to the Third Order."

Daniel felt hands reach under his arms and pull him to his feet. He wasn't sure he was ready to stand just yet, but they supported him along the way until he could walk on his own. They took him to a large communal bathing room where a young slave all in white with a purple stripe down the side of his clothes was putting away a stack of towels. With a word from the guard, the kid brought over a bottle of liquid soap and went to get a set of clothes for Daniel. They took the shackles off, and all but one of the guards left, but Daniel already knew a chance of escape right then just wasn't going to be possible.

"Take off your clothes and wash," the guard directed.

Raising his eyebrows, Daniel looked at the steaming pool, then at the guard. "I'm guessing you plan to stay and watch?" he grumbled. The guard only raised an eyebrow in question. "Right, of course you are. Okay." Daniel took a breath and stripped, trying very hard to ignore the fact that he wasn't alone. It wasn't like the concept of group bathing was foreign to him, but that didn't mean he'd done it himself, at least not often.

Slipping into the warm water up to his waist, Daniel resisted the urge to sigh. It had been four days and not altogether in the best conditions. Then, thinking of the collar, he absently tugged at it and, looking over at the guard, hesitantly asked, "This isn't, you know…I'm not going to be electrocuted by this if it gets wet, will I?"

This time the previously stoic guard smiled. It reminded Daniel a bit of Teal'c whenever the jaffa found something humorous. "You will be fine. Wash."

"Right." Not fully trusting him, Daniel took a hesitant breath and then sank into the pool until his head was completely wet. Thankfully, nothing happened, and Daniel surfaced again with a sigh of relief.

As he came up out of the water he saw the slave from before enter to leave his new clothes and pick up the old ones. "Oh, ah. Hey. Leave the glasses, can you leave the glasses? I don't see well without them." Daniel quickly interrupted, pushing to the side of the pool.

The young slave looked at Daniel startled, then up at the guard confused. "It's alright, Oshen, leave them." The guard told him. The slave nodded, and obligingly placed the glasses back on the floor.

Daniel turned to the guard after Oshen left. "Thanks." The man didn't respond, but Daniel thought he saw a flicker of a smile again. So, as he was lathering himself with soap, he finally asked, "What do I call you?"

That got a response. "I am Rakel, Chief of the Guardsmen of Oketena. All of the Guardsmen and Overseers have control over the collars."

"Overseer?"

"They are those who are in charge of the slaves. Third Order has three overseers, Oniten, Ritalen, and Olem."

"Third Order? Is that like some sort of classification?" Daniel asked, fully intrigued, but Rakel only motioned for him to finish washing.

Freshly cleaned, barefoot but dressed, Daniel critically felt his new clothes. They were a sturdy material, warm and smooth against his skin, and loose enough for him to really move about with ease. They were of a simple design, pants and a tunic with pull ties at the sides to hold them closed. And they were white, with a black stripe down the side. Daniel had an idea it was part of a color code system.

It was easy to see who was a slave and who wasn't, other than the obvious skin color issue. All the slaves Daniel had seen here so far were dressed in the same simple white clothes with various color stripes. Then one passed by who was in black with a white stripe down the side. Immediately Daniel noticed a difference about him. He walked more boldly through the halls, causing other slaves to quickly move aside, and there was a small sense of arrogance to him. He was the slave that had come to give Omila the message when they'd first arrived at the estate. He was at the top of the slave chain, Daniel realized, figuring that slaves dressed in black likely had had to prove themselves in some way to get the position, and just as likely got certain perks in return.

With that thought in mind, it came as a bit of a shock when he saw Jack dressed in the black instead of the standard white. The Colonel's room had two Guardsmen standing watch but they let Daniel in with a look from their Chief. "Jack," Daniel called, sitting down on the edge of the bed and shaking his friend, but Jack didn't stir. "Jack?" Daniel shook harder.

"He will not wake till later." Rakel said from the doorway.

"What happened to him?" Daniel demanded, automatically feeling for a pulse. While Jack's hair was obviously damp, his skin was dry and cool to the touch, but not cold, and his pulse was strong. Inwardly, Daniel sighed with relief while he waited for an answer with angry eyes.

"He is being taught his place," Rakel told him sternly. "And it is time for you to join yours. You have seen your friend, now come."

Biting his lip, Daniel looked from Rakel to Jack, then with a last pat on Jack's unresponsive hand, got up and followed the Chief Guardsmen out. Do what you have to do to survive. Those were Jack's last orders, and Daniel intended to follow them.

His introduction to the Third Order was short. Rakel handed him over to Olem with orders that he was to be watched continuously. At which point, Daniel was put to washing the floor under Olem's careful eye. It quickly became clear that the Third Order was the cleaning crew for the estate. It was one of the longer days in Daniel's life, partially because he hadn't had to do so much cleaning in a long long time, but mostly because it had been four days since he'd last eaten and he was well past being drained of energy.

Olem had given him something around the midday, but didn't release him with the rest of the slaves for a meal till that night, and by then, Daniel could care less if he ate as long as he got a chance to sleep.

Exhausted, Daniel found himself following the other white clothed, black striped slaves to a room with several long tables running from one end to the other. The side of the room had an open counter with a buffet of various foods lined up on it. The smell was enough to pull Daniel from his dreams of sleep. He blinked hard, realizing with shock that the other slaves in his line were freely taking the rather appetizing looking foods.

"Wow."

The slave in front of him, a man about his own age, looked back at Daniel with a frown. "What?"

"I just-" Daniel broke off, not sure how to answer. He'd expected that they would be served bread and gruel and that would be it. They were slaves after all.

"Didn't have a good previous Master, uh?" The guy asked, picking up on Daniel's amazement.

"I didn't-" Daniel began, but broke off again, unsure how much he should say.

Still, it was enough to grab the other slave's attention and the man gave him a hard look. "Are you the one from Okata?"

"I'm from Earth." The anthropologist stated firmly, and then added with a smile when the man only looked at him even more confused. "I'm Daniel. I'm new here."

"Obviously. I'm Opith."

They had reached the beginning of the buffet line and Opith took a plate, then with a glance at Daniel, handed it to him and took another. "We're allowed to eat as much as we want, but I wouldn't overfill yourself, and I'd stay away from the queesh."

Daniel barely refrained from asking what a queesh was, and followed instead the instincts of his nose. He'd been on enough strange planets by now to know almost by smell what would and wouldn't taste good. Although, if he left it up to his growling stomach, everything here was a delicacy!

With a sizable plate full of hopefully delicious edibles, Daniel followed after Opith to one of the tables. Other slaves were coming into the room now, all in white but their stripes varied in color. Each Order stuck to their own it seemed, like any segregated work place, sitting only with other same colored stripes. At first Daniel felt repulsed by the connotation, but realized blatantly that the SG teams could sometimes be just as bad in their own mess hall.

"What, ah, what Order are those dressed in black?" Daniel asked his tablemates. They all looked at him with open shock. "I'm new."

They still looked at him in shock. "And they put you in the Third Order?" One of them demanded. He was fairly young, early twenties at most, but he was muscular which made his presence known.

"Eglish!" Opith chastised. "You do not question their choices! If you can not hold you tongue you'll end up in the mines next year." From the way they all responded to Opith's words, Daniel realized the man must be kind of like the surrogate leader to the group. That Opith had chosen to back him up meant that Daniel himself would not be ostracized, or so Daniel hoped. This whole jail mate social structure was really Jack's kind of thing.

"They are of the First Order," a woman sitting across from Daniel answered him. "They eat elsewhere."

"Oh." Fantastic. And Jack had been dressed in black. The thought was depressing enough that for several long minutes he just sat there, numbly thinking.

Then Opith nudged him in the ribs, and said, "You really should eat. You look like you haven't for days."

"I haven't," Daniel automatically replied, gaining him several more shocked expressions from his tablemates. Or was that ordermates? He was going to have to figure that out, calling them fellow slaves just wasn't going to work for him. Eagerly, Daniel dug into the meal, his expression changing with every bite, as he tasted each item.

"Are you the one from Okata?" The man on his other side finally asked, and everyone within the immediate area watched Daniel, anxious for the answer.

Daniel decided right then and there that there was no point in pretending to these people. "No. I'm from Earth. It's a different world then Okata. In fact, this is my first time being a slave." They all continued to stare, and Daniel calmly finished the rather refreshing piece of fruit that was a strange mix of sweet and spicy, and then introduced himself, "My name's Daniel."

For several long minutes no one spoke, they just watched Daniel with wide eyes. Then, finally, the woman across from him broke the silence. "My name is Kheta, beside you is Dhago. This is Benith, Glith, Eglish, and Ghoam."

After that no one asked him if he was from Okata again, in fact, no one asked him much of anything about himself, but a few of them now took the time at least to explain things to him, and patiently answered all of his questions.