oOo

Teal'c stood back to look at the wagon. Even his critical eye could find nothing further to adjust. It was fashioned after the merchant wagons in photographs Morgan's team had taken, a chest-high wooden box with big caster wheels beneath and three poles sticking out from the top of each side. The poles could be folded down when not being used to push or pull or display wares. Unlike the originals, this wagon was reinforced with metal and concealed a small but zippy engine so they could outrun pursuers back to the Gate if necessary. With so many unknowns on this mission, they had planned for as many situations as they could.

The wagon held two mattresses standing vertically on each side, courtesy of their friends on PS3-1509, made of local materials that conformed to one's body and muffled all sound. Wonderfully comfortable for sleeping, they were more than just objects to offer for trade. If they had to, they could wrap one of these deceptively thin mattresses around a man and smuggle him away with no one hearing him. It wasn't for Jack; based on Morgan's report, the Colonel should only be taken with agreement of the local authorities, preferably newly-installed ones. If they couldn't buy him, they might resort to abducting one of the locals and doing a prisoner exchange.

Alongside the mattresses were stacks of rocks. These were from PS-104, where their ability to reflect heat made them the only stones to survive local volcanic activity. Once heated, a stone would reflect warmth for hours afterward. Mainly for trade, since any encamped army should appreciate a source of heat, even the stones had a second potential use. Anything they had to hide along the way could be buried and the spot marked with a hot rock; making it easily found again with infrared goggles.

In the center were stacks of smaller items. Everything had at least two potential uses. Beautiful stone amulets, gifts for any important-seeming people they met, held tracking devices that could be monitored via the hovering UAV if need be for stealth or surprise attack. The trio wore pendants of their own, including tracking devices, but with one additional feature. Hidden compartments held components of Dargol. Linea, the infamous "Destroyer of Worlds" had erased the memories of a planet's population with Dargol in an event the victims called the Vorlix. Far too dangerous to carry around in its final form, the ingredients of the compound had been divided into three parts. If nothing else worked, they could be combined and used to "replace" the leadership by making them forget everything. It was an extremely fine line – Hammond had been very clear about not replacing the ruling party – but they had agreed it would be worth even the potential courts-martial if it meant bringing the Colonel home alive.

Teal'c bowed his head to Carter. "It is time, my wife."

Carter bowed her head in return, mimicking the gestures they'd seen on Morgan's team's videos. "Yes, my husband." She turned to Daniel, and bowed her head to him. "My brother, will you dial the gate?" Not knowing local customs except from the limited observations, they had decided that the assumed relationships would help, and practiced repeating them for good measure. It was a reason, in addition to being merchants, for being together and staying close, plus it might mitigate any potential issues with men and women being in public together.

"Yes, my sister." Daniel bowed his head to her, then turned to the DHD. Carter and Teal'c stood nearby, watching the tiny screen of her PDA for the picture the hovering UAV would relay to it. If no one was nearby, they'd hustle through the gate and into the nearby woods. From there, they would circle around the city and come in from the mountainside. Given their original reception, they didn't want to risk anyone finding out that they'd come through the gate. There were traces of a city high in the hills, cut off by a long ago landslide. They would pretend to be from there, and that they had only recently found a way past the blockage. Hopefully, any faux pas would be assumed to be due to their mountain city being separated from the valley ones for so long.

"Clear!" she half-shouted it, excited to finally be going. They planned it for night at their destination, but it had still taken three evenings to find a clear chance.

Teal'c pushed the wagon at a trot, getting up to running speed as the others added their efforts. They raced out of the sunlight and into the inky darkness of storm-tossed woods. They'd memorized the path days ago, and didn't even slow down as they bounced down the trail, taking two right forks, a left, and another right, stopping at the treeline.

This was a planned resting point, and they leaned against the cart to catch their breath, each facing a different direction to keep watch as best they could in the gloom. Carter faced back toward the gate while Daniel's view was of the lights of the city. Teal'c looked out across the open grassland to the foothills. This would be their next, and one of the most dangerous, moves. They would run across the open and into the hills. Tonight's goal was simply to find shelter in the hills. Tomorrow in the daylight they would circle around the city to approach it as if they had come from the mountains.

"This rain will make the crossing to the hills safer," Teal'c commented with satisfaction.

"Or not," Carter said slowly. She was frowning at her hands, and bent to peer at the covering on the wagon.

"What is it?" Daniel asked the question, but he had straightened and started to look in slow circles all around them. Teal'c was doing the same, alert for clues to the danger she had spotted.

"Do your hands sting?"

"I thought it was from pushing the wagon," Daniel said, glancing down at his own reddened hands.

She looked, too. "They'd be red on the palms if that was the reason," she pointed out. "The backs of mine hurt. And there's streaks on the canvas."

Daniel flipped his hands over, realizing that she was right. His palms were pink, and warm from the friction of the cart. But the backs were red and stinging. "What's happening?"

"I think it's the rain," she guessed, even as she dug in her pack. They'd brought everything but the kitchen sink; she had a field testing kit in there, and pulled out the ph strip, holding it in the rain. It quickly turned bright pink. "It's acidic. *Very* acidic. Here." She rummaged in another pack,coming up with, of all things, a bar of soap, a canteen, and gloves. "Use the soap on your hands, and rinse with water from the canteen, then put on the gloves."

"Soap?"

"Soap is a base, it will help to neutralize the acid. We're lucky our faces were protected by our hoods, and it only got our hands."

"This is why there was no one watching the gate," Teal'c said abruptly, but with surety.

"It makes sense," Daniel agreed.

Carter was reaching around in the packs again. She pulled out goggles. "We'd better protect our eyes, even if we do have hoods on."

oOo

Jack swallowed as the last of the other mayree left the room, headed for their assigned tasks of the day. Keyna had not been at all pleased to see him return with a message from Blenna instead of simply to join the queue of mayree awaiting assignments. He'd been so angry, in fact, that he had refused to hear the message at the time, ordering Jack to wait painfully close to the fireplace.

Keyna turned his head slowly, glaring for a full minute before calling Jack forward. Given a choice, Jack would have stayed where he was, even with one side of his body stinging from the fire, rather than face the heat of that anger. But he didn't have a choice. He stepped forward, knelt before Keyna, and bowed his head all the way to the ground.

"Raise your head, mayra."

Jack did as he was told, kneeling and looking at Keyna's chest.

"I will hear this message, mayra," Keyna said evenly. "If my ear hears a complaint about your service, your ear will never hear again." Beside him, one of the enforcers reached for a long slender tool like an ice pick and displayed it as he walked over. Using one hand to press Jack's head against his knees, he held the pick next to his cheek. The message was clear. If Keyna did not like what he heard, his enforcer would pierce Jack's eardrum.

"Do not think you will be healed, mayra," Keyna warned. "There will be no visible scarring to lower your sale price, so the loss of one ear's use can be a permanent reminder to you."

"Yes, Keyna." The force of the grip on his face slurred his words. Or maybe it was fear that choked his throat and made his heart race. He had to repeat the message verbatim, or be punished. But Keyna was already angry, and might very well act when he heard its start, without hearing it to the end.

Keyna put his hands on the arms of his chair, as if to help him control more anger. "I will hear Blenna's message, mayra."

Jack spoke carefully, enunciating with difficulty through his mashed cheeks. "Master Blenna wishes you greetings and success, Master Keyna. His heart brims with gratitude for your assistance these past days." Keyna's assistance indeed! It hadn't been Keyna holding that fang down with his gut. Jack was almost grateful for the fierce grip that would be a logical excuse for any twinge in his voice. "Master Blenna humbly begs your indulgence, Master Keyna, in a matter of mayree control."

The enforcer clenched him harder at those words, anticipating the need to strike. Jack grunted, and had a flash of memory of himself as a child, making faces with his friends, sucking his cheeks as far in as they would go and talking through "fish lips." But this was no game. He continued as best he could, rushing to be heard before Keyna gave any signal to Baramo. "A mayra was badly injured by rahi and badgers. The mayra now fears the animals and chooses punishment over obedience. Master Blenna asks your advice, clever Master Keyna, and offers the cub of your choice as meager repayment for your valued counsel."

Keyna sat back on his chair, thinking. He gave no order, so the mayree remained as they were, one standing with the other crushed against him.

"I shall assist my friend Blenna," Keyna announced. "Mayra, where is this mayra, and by what name is it called?"

"The mayra is in Blenna's barn, chained to the wall, and is called Carnamo, Keyna."

"What incentives has Blenna tried, mayra?"

"I was chained in the barn, and did not see, Keyna. I heard encouraging words, then yelling, then pounding sounds."

Keyna seemed pleased with this news. "Simple things," he nodded. "Pelamo, go to Blenna's barn and introduce yourself to Carnamo. I shall arrive later to hear your evaluation."

The enforcer bowed and left, looking confident that he would have results to show by the time his master arrived. His partner, at a wave from Keyna, released Jack and stepped back to his post beside the master's chair.

"As for you, mayra," Keyna said pleasantly. "Did you behave well under Blenna's care?"

"I tried, Keyna, but I failed. Keyna was magnanimous enough to notice two errors." Jack paused, and when no word came, he went on. "I removed my leash and failed to take the bag as ordered."

"Why is that, mayra?"

"It doesn't matter, Keyna. It matters only that I failed." That has been another hard-won lesson. "Why" he failed didn't matter. "How" things had happened was the request to know what else had gone on.

"Good, mayra."

Jack was surprised at the positive words.

"You must be punished," Keyna continued in a conversational tone. "Then we shall see."

That sounded like he might be asked his name again, and now that he had an answer, it might mean that he was nearing the end of his time with Keyna. Jack tried to hold on to that optimism, hoping it would help him get through what was to come.

oOo

Samantha Carter sighed, and turned to edge her way back between the wagon and the rock wall to the alcove where Daniel was sitting. Behind her, Teal'c continued to observe the city below through his binoculars. They'd taken the first refuge from the acid rain, an outcropping of rock on a small plateau overlooking the city. It was just big enough to shelter the wagon and allow the trio to sit or stand behind it. All night, and most of the morning, they'd had nothing to do but watch the city, where the inhabitants sensibly kept inside away from the caustic showers.

"So, Daniel, what's with the gargoyles?" Maybe there was a significance to the hunched statues of slaves that seemed to adorn many yards, or to their misshapen faces, all of which seemed not only morose but covered in uneven bumps and splotchy colors. Surely the homeowners didn't put those creepy things out because they liked their looks.

Daniel opened his mouth to answer, but Teal'c spoke first. "They are living beings."

"What?" Carter started back toward her companion. "They can't be."

"Look closely and you will see." He made room for her at his side, and Daniel as well. The pair peered through their own binoculars.

"It's inhuman to leave them out in this!"

"Slave-takers often pretend their victims are inhuman in order to justify their actions," Teal'c commented calmly. He'd seen a lot more slavery in his lifetime than they had.

"They may leave them outside to demonstrate to the slaves how little value they have," Daniel offered. "Or as a punishment, or a test of loyalty."

"True," Teal'c agreed. "Or they may merely be so plentiful that it is preferable to let one be damaged than to allow him into the master's dwelling."

"That's just – hey, what if the Colonel is outside?" Carter turned more eagerly back to the city. "Maybe we could talk to him!" They'd agreed already that they would not steal him. Colonel Morgan never revealed the details, but she made it very clear that it would be disastrous to take him by stealth or force.

The trio turned to the city view, scanning hopefully for a sight of their missing friend. No one continued the conversation about the slaves, or theorized what might have been done to the Colonel.

oOo

Jack heard the door open and tensed. *Here it comes,* he thought miserably. He'd tried the "Jonatha, I'll kneel" story, and it had failed spectacularly. Keyna had lost his temper entirely, and pummeled Jack, then blamed him for the outburst as well as for still not offering his human-name. Shaking with anger, Keyna had gone off to decide what punishment would be sufficiently cruel.

Jack had remained where he was, lying on the floor where he'd gone down under Keyna's onslaught. He'd thought the waiting was hard, but now that he was about to find out the answer, he wished he could go back to the waiting.

"Up, mayra." It wasn't Keyna's voice.

Jack stood, looking at the black-shirted chest of one of the enforcers. He thought it was Baramo, but couldn't be absolutely certain based on two words and a barrel-like torso.

"Come, mayra." The chest turned, revealing an equally impressive back full of bulging muscles.

Jack followed nervously, down the hall and right out the door. Nearly trotting to keep up with the huge man's long strides, he missed the first few words when Baramo spoke. Jack picked up his pace, worried that he may have missed a command.

Baramo was taunting him, the same way the guards had ever since his failed suicide attempt. He was telling him about a device that had been used on Bruto, to encourage him to kill. Activated when it was squeezed, the device would sprout curved teeth of its own. The artificial jaws would wait harmlessly until the pressure was relieved, then clamp down. Keyna had asked where he could get one, for use on stubborn mayree. Baramo poked Jack with an elbow then, to be sure he got the hint that it may be for him.

But that wasn't the end of the news. Blenna had used the device on Bruto to overcome the animal's habit of backing off the kill. Baramo didn't know if that had worked or not, but it had left the animal in an absolute fury. It was blindly attacking anything and everything.

That was when they'd sent Baramo for Jack. The guard chuckled evilly as he pondered aloud just what they may have in mind. Beside him, Jack silently reminded himself of the consequences if he refused, or ran, and that anything they made him do was still preferable.

They could hear the snarling as soon as they entered the barn. Keyna and Blenna stood, casually talking, with ointment, rags, and water ready at their feet. Tarmo was nearby, at the edge of the masters' peripheral vision, standing still as a schoolboy hoping not to be called. One sleeve was shredded, but clear skin peeked through beneath. They must have healed his arm while Baramo went for Jack.

Baramo moved to stand in his usual place just behind Keyna's shoulder. Jack took his usual place, too, kneeling before the man.

"Tarmo is now Bruto's handler in the field, and too important to risk in common barn work. You are being given the great honor of working with very valuable animals, mayra." The silky voice turned icy. "Do not disappoint, or the consequences will be dire. Bring Bruto here, mayra."

Jack rose, walked to the stall emitting the angry growls and went straight in. It was scary, to say the least, but Keyna had been painfully clear about his displeasure when Jack had delayed in following an order just because sharp rahi teeth were in the way. If he hesitated or flinched, he'd be punished for sure, and worse each time.

Thankfully, Tarmo hadn't simply turned Bruto loose in the stall. The animal was fastened to the vertical bar hidden between wall panels, but it still tried to leap at him. There were no words to Bruto's growls, they seemed to be simply screams of pain and anger.

Jack walked toward him, thinking fast. If he just unhooked the beast, he'd be its dinner in seconds. He shook off the flash of hope that Bruto could kill him thoroughly enough that Keyna could not revive him. Tempting, but too risky. He went behind the animal, putting his legs astride it as if to ride, and grabbing the collar with his left hand. Bruto twisted and snarled, trying to bite, but he couldn't turn far enough. Jack swallowed and reached his right hand down and unclipped the collar from the wall.

Bruto went wild, lurching around in circles to the left as soon as his neck was freed. Jack spun with him, riding him like a bull. He grabbed the beast's right ear and pulled. Bruto jerked to the right with a scream, intending to bite his aggressor. His eye hit fingers instead of enemy or his own ear, and he yelped, jerking his head the other way again. Jack took advantage of the confusion and kneed him toward the open door.

Somehow, he managed to wrestle the animal over to the men waiting to heal him. He tried twisting around to force him down, the way he'd seen calf-ropers do on rodeo commercials. It didn't work, and there were a dizzying few moments when they rolled around atop one another.

Bruto got the upper hand, or mouth, or whatever, and pinned Jack under a huge paw, digging his claws in to ensure his hold. Jack still held the collar and one ear, and pushed them away with all his might, but he knew it wouldn't stop those huge jaws that were coming down at his face. He closed his eyes, and hoped it would be over quickly.

Hot liquid suddenly splashed on his face and neck, but there was no pain. It took a moment, but he opened his eyes to find Bruto chewing on a practice target. Blenna must keep some blood-filled ones warm to make the pretend kills more realistic. They gave the animal time to enjoy its victory, ignoring the fact that he was still standing on Jack, or maybe they were just continuing Jack's role as prey.

When Bruto calmed somewhat, Blenna commanded, "Bruto, sit." The beast stepped aside and sat. The next order was for Jack. "Mayra, up," he said in the same tone.

Jack rose.

"Bruto, lie down." He lay with a grunt.

"Mayra, pin his head as you did last time." Jack dove down. Bruto dropped the target before moving to meet this new threat, and that slowed him just enough for Jack to land without being punctured.

Blenna had chatted amiably with Keyna all through the retrieval. "It worked out well enough, my friend Keyna. Barn time is normally for obedience, but an extra 'kill' is good for Bruto. Come, let us prepare more healing herbs; the bowl has been knocked over."

"The mayra will be punished for his clumsiness, my friend Blenna," Keyna assured him.

Jack felt his head clunk down on the floor at the unfairness. He was supposed to wrestle a vicious half-wild animal and not bump into anything? He hoped Keyna had not noticed his head move, or else there may well be punishment for that as well.

"No need, my friend Keyna. The mayra is just learning, and was distracted by Bruto."

Distracted? Did the man have a talent for understatement, or did he honestly consider a killer beast just a distraction? Jack closed his eyes, hoping Keyna would go along with Blenna.

"You can excuse him this time if you wish, my friend Blenna." On the floor, Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "But do not be soft on him," Keyna cautioned. "If he shows hesitation of any kind, even to protect his own body, he must be sternly corrected. It is important to his own training."

The pair stepped away, still talking. Bruto, sensing the reduction in numbers, renewed his struggles. His growls had changed to threats of what he intended to do to all the humans when he had the chance. He would rend their bodies, tear out their hearts, feast on their entrails…

"What is your problem?" Jack hissed at him, as he struggled to keep him down.

Surprisingly, the beast answered. "*They*," he spat the word, "never heal the worst pain. Only the little things. They want me to feel pain, so I want them to!"

"They look all over! What are they missing?"

"How dare you taunt me! You, laying on my head, making my teeth hurt worse, and pretending you don't know!" Bruto roared in fury. "I'll tear you to pieces!" He struggled violently to rise.

Jack held on desperately as he was bounced around. He put his hand over Bruto's nose, cutting off most of his air. The animal fought harder for a few moments, then subsided. Physically, at least. With what air he had left, he wheezed out promises of doom.

Keyna and Blenna had not returned, despite the sound. Or perhaps because of it; Keyna would surely suggest letting Jack work it out on his own, knowing he'd get injured now or earn punishments for later.

"Bite the bowl," Jack hissed urgently. "Bite the bowl! It will fix your teeth."

"You lie so I won't eat you," he accused.

"Just try it! Bite the bowl."

"Why should you help me?" he asked suspiciously.

"So you won't eat me."

Bruto made a chuffing sound, which might have been a derisive laugh, but decided to try it. He lay still, growling quiet warnings of what he would do if Jack was wrong, or worse, if Bruto himself was punished for biting the bowl then Jack would pay dearly. Blenna and Keyna returned, and calmly worked on Bruto from tail to neck.

"Roll over, mayra."

Jack rolled quickly, pressing his weight over Bruto's neck and shoulders. Bruto's snarls rose in volume as he was prevented from getting to the bowl. Jack knew he'd get punished if the animal got up before Blenna gave the word. Bruto would have to take his chance then.

Blenna healed the myriad of cuts on Bruto's face, caused by the training device. When he was finally done, he sat back and put the bowl down on the floor. "Take hold of his collar, mayra, then get up."

Jack, lying on his back atop Bruto, took an awkward hold of the collar with his left hand, then started to sit up. As soon as the pressure eased, Bruto shot to his feet, flinging Jack through a sit-up motion so fast his face smacked his knees. He was bouncing back up from there when Bruto wrenched him sideways as he lunged for the bowl. Jack flipped onto his stomach, mostly to save his back being snapped, but it put his right hand near the bowl. He grabbed for it, pushing it toward Bruto's reaching maw. Bruto grabbed the bowl, and Jack pushed up onto his knees, pushing and twisting the bowl to make sure the contents dumped into Bruto's mouth. Bruto lashed his head side to side, pulling Jack along like a rag doll.

It worked. Bruto's snarls suddenly changed, at least to Jack's ears. Bruto was shouting for joy, giddy with relief. "It's gone! It's gone! I can bite!" He crushed the bowl easily and whipped around for something else to try. The pitcher of water was easily dispatched, and he gleefully looked for something more challenging. He clomped one paw down on the formerly blood-filled target and used his teeth to rip it easily in half, then looked for more. There wasn't much left lying around the barn, so he clamped down on the outer corner of the nearest stall. "I can bite! Bite!" the words were muffled by the wood.

"Bruto, sit!"

It probably wasn't the first command Blenna had given, but it was the first that was heard over the melee. Bruto, with one final jerk, turned and sat. He'd managed to take a chunk out of the heavy wood, and the prize dangled in his grinning mouth. Jack, breathing heavily, still clung with his left hand to the collar as he sat next to the beast.

"Mayra," Blenna began to give an order, but he never finished.

The word brought Bruto's attention back to Jack. He spun, with loud thanks, knocking Jack to the ground and preparing to lick him. A target suddenly appeared in his mouth; Blenna, acting quickly, had shoved it there. Bruto was startled, then pleased to have something else to test his newly comfortable teeth on. He snapped it with one crunch, then tossed it and caught the end to crush that as well. Another target flew past his head, and he followed, towing Jack along.

"Mayra, release him."

Jack was happy to comply. In the absence of more orders, he lay where he dropped. Three targets later, Bruto was in his home stall, happily giggling about being able to bite and throwing the hard rubber shapes around.

Blenna and Keyna stood, watching the seemingly berserk Bruto in his stall. Jack lay behind them, trying to catch his breath as quickly and quietly as possible as he listened to them chat about the beast. As Bruto quieted, a whimpering sound caught their attention and ended the brief respite. Carnamo, still chained in the mayree stall, was rocking back and forth and trying to stifle his crying.

Keyna walked over and surveyed him dispassionately. Blenna came to stand by him, and describe all the incentives he had tried so far. Carnamo cried harder as each was named, huddling before them. Keyna's solution was simple. To ensure a mayra's obedience, you threaten him with something he will go to any lengths to avoid.

"I have tried everything I could think of," Blenna said, shaking his head as though the situation were hopeless.

"I must beg to disagree, my friend Blenna. You have exactly what you need right here."

Blenna looked around, puzzled.

Keyna smiled fondly, and stepped toward the doorway. Blenna followed automatically, peering out into the rainy afternoon to see if the solution was out there. Quietly, so Carnamo would not hear, Keyna asked if any of the rahi would bite on command.

Startled, Blenna stammered a bit with his answer. "I – I am not sure. The adult males hunt on command, of course, but they are accustomed to *not* biting their handlers."

Keyna considered. "We do not want to jeopardize the males' performance in the field, or risk having them hunt the mayree handlers instead of the badgers. Perhaps the female? Or a cub? That's it, a cub!" Keyna grinned at his own idea. He bowed his head, gesturing with his hands. "My friend Blenna has generously promised me a cub for my own. I shall not hunt with my cub; it will be my prize possession, sitting proudly at my feet."

Blenna smiled at the compliment.

"It shall also assist me in disciplining my mayree. Let us train *my* cub to bite on command. It will be a useful skill for mine, and will not impact the hunting of yours."

Blenna was grinning now, too. "An excellent idea, my friend Keyna! Excellent! Your reasoning is perfect."

"It can be trained so it does not bite me?" The idea seemed to come to Keyna a bit late.

"Oh, yes, my friend. Rahi are pack animals; they do not dream of aggression against their leader. Once you master your beast, it will be submissive to you at all times." He gestured toward the stalls. "Shall we pick out your new rahi?"

Keyna followed, smiling happily. They leaned over the half-stall to look at the cubs. "Take your time, my friend. If any one appeals to you particularly, it is yours. Tarmo!"

Tarmo appeared at his side. "Bring a leash, we will take the cubs out one at a time."

Tarmo trotted off, returning quickly with one leash in hand and a spare looped diagonally across his body. He waited for instructions.

"Take any cub, Tarmo, and bring it outside."

Tarmo slipped into the stall, returning with Minnie gamboling at his feet.

"This one is female, and already showing good breadth. While it is a benefit for breeding, her adult stockiness will also make her appear more powerful." Tarmo walked her down the aisle and back again. "Put her in that stall, Tarmo, and get another." Blenna indicated the stall in the corner.

Jerry was next. He grabbed Tarmo's pants leg and worried at it, ignoring the other men looking at him. Keyna laughed, and praised his ferocity.

"This may be a good choice for my friend Keyna!" Blenna had him put in a different stall, for possible picks.

Speedy, true to his name, zipped out of the stall, pulling Tarmo along. He eagerly sniffed everything and everyone, eyes and ears twitching in all directions.

"Another male, and very attentive. He may serve you well in observing your mayree, Keyna." Keyna nodded, and Blenna had Speedy put in the stall with Jerry.

Tarmo emerged with Tom, who stood calmly looking around. Blenna tossed a treat to one side and Tom pounced on it instantly.

"A natural hunter," Keyna complimented. "I would not dream of depriving my friend Blenna of the opportunity to compete with it."

Blenna smiled gratefully. Tom went into the stall with Minnie.

Gonzalez came out next, sniffing and looking about with interest. "This one is male, and will be of moderate size. See the mottling on his face? That will intensify as he grows, giving him the classic appearance of having many eyes."

Keyna chuckled. "*That* would intimidate reluctant mayra!"

Gonzalez went into the stall with Jerry and Speedy. Mighty was next, and came out growling. He snarled at everyone in turn, trying to show his dominance. He was the first to notice Jack, still lying on the floor in the aisle. Mighty took a step toward him, suspicious of the unusual behavior, pulling his lips back and showing sharp white teeth.

"An excellent beast!" Keyna complimented, "so alert and aggressive!"

Blenna had him put in with the other three males, but he did not look happy about it. Mighty was the leader of his little pack, and Blenna did not want to give him away. Still, he had offered Keyna his choice, and could not recant now.

Mickey came out next, slow and suspicious after hearing Mighty's growls. He stood his ground as he looked at Keyna, but growled at Blenna, who had hurt him before. The aggressive sound was offset by the way that he dropped low to the ground defensively.

"You see, Keyna? This one is strong and fierce, but still he knows his place with me." Blenna tried to promote Mickey as a choice to move his friend's thoughts away from Mighty.

Either Blenna's words convinced Keyna, or they didn't, but he opted away from Mickey. "With such a fierce appearance, and him knowing you already, I wouldn't think of taking him from you, my friend. He will surely do you honor in competition."

"Thank you for your kind words, my friend." Blenna waved Tarmo to take Mickey away, and the little animal followed eagerly.

"He is exceptionally fierce looking," Keyna commented, "even when he is not growling or acting aggressively."

Blenna had no choice but to explain, since Keyna had mentioned it specifically. He told him proudly about how the little one had rushed out to take on a real badger by himself, and how his face had been torn in the battle. Instead of admitting that making it scar was for resale value, he tested out his official story – he'd allowed the mighty hunter to keep the physical badge to ensure the tale of his bravery would be told many times.

Keyna was suitably impressed with the story, but had already turned down Mickey, who was put in the stall with the other cubs that were out of the running.

Millie was the last to emerge, alert and eager to see where her siblings had gone. She started for the door, hopeful of going outside again. Tarmo turned her and walked her in a circle for Keyna. As they passed Jack, who was between her and the door, she leapt again.

Keyna, thinking she was going for Jack, was impressed with her as well. "Another excellent one – she leaps at the mayra already. My friend Blenna has many amazing beasts!" He bowed toward his host. "But how am I to choose? Perhaps my friend can assist me?"

Blenna smiled. Keyna, excellent businessman as always, had given him back control. It would be impolite for him to refuse Blenna's suggestion now. "Allow me to narrow it down to two for you, my friend." He had Tarmo keep hold of Millie and bring Jerry back out.

"Walk them both, Tarmo." They started down the aisle and back. "These are the ones you saw take action against mayree, my friend." He went along with Keyna's interpretation that Millie had been going for Jack and not the door. "The female will be stockier, but the male will be taller. In appearance, it is likely he will mature to be darker than she, though that won't be certain for a few more weeks. At this point, my guess is that she will be the warm mahogany color of tree bark and he will be dark as the river silt."

Keyna was still watching the animals walk, making a show of trying to decide. In truth, it probably didn't matter that much which he chose, as long as his beast could be trained as he wanted.

"I must in good conscience speak of their voices to my friend Keyna."

"Voices? I thought they were only yappy as cubs?" Keyna looked at the cubs with suspicion, as if one or both would start yowling at him.

Blenna smiled. "Adults are silent when calm, my friend. Have no fear that your prize will keep you up at night for no reason."

Keyna relaxed.

Blenna elaborated. "It is the way of rahi that his growl will be deeper but her battle roar will be more ominous – in the wild, she would guard the young quietly until forced into battle, when her cry may help frighten off whatever is threatening her children. He, on the other hand, would confront an opponent directly as he would not be hiding with infant rahi, and use his growl to warn a combatant off."

Keyna was nodding now.

"There is one last thing," Blenna told him. "Some males, like Bruto," he smiled fondly at the mention of his prize beast, "develop impressive battle cries. Others, however, may not, and many males attack silently, using their mouths strictly for damage. This cannot be determined until they are older than these cubs are now."

Tarmo was turning them again, and Blenna reached toward Millie's leash, assuming his friend would want the one sure to sound off well.

Keyna stopped him. "I think I shall choose the male," he said slowly. "My friend Blenna works in the field, where a good battle cry is very valuable. I, however, work more often indoors, and a threatening growl is more likely to be of use to me."

Blenna's smile went from ear to ear. He took Jerry's leash and offered it formally to Keyna. "It is my very great honor to present you with your own rahi. A fine choice. I am sure he will serve you well."

Keyna took the leash with a smile, holding it and looking at his beast while Tarmo returned the others to their mother.

"He is old enough for the training we spoke of?" Keyna was watching Jerry, who was sniffing at the spot where Tom's treat had hit the floor.

"It is a bit early, but biting is natural to him, so he does not need to learn the action, only to do it on command. Shall we return to Carnamo to try him out?" Blenna turned, hardly waiting for the agreement he was sure was coming.

Keyna hadn't moved yet. He rubbed his chin, thinking. "Carnamo is valuable, my friend. We want to minimize the risk to him. If the cub – what should I name you, my prize? – is slow to learn, we may not make the best progress with Carnamo."

"What else can we do? Do I sense that my friend has a suggestion?"

"Let us try him out on my mayra," he waved at Jack, still lying on the floor. "If he does well, we will soon be ready to help Carnamo recover." He took a few steps toward Jack.

"We must act quickly for Carnamo's sake, and yours, my friend Blenna. May I suggest," he was talking to Blenna but looking at Jack. "that if the cub is slow to learn, we accelerate his lessons with your one of your own techniques?"

Keyna explained and Blenna agreed. If the beast didn't learn quickly, Jack would be made to cut its face. Jerry would be sure to bite in response to that. The bite command would be given by Keyna with each cut Jack made so the animal would get used to 'word, pain, bite.' If Jerry bit before the pain, there would be no cut. The poor baby would learn fast enough that way. When it was over, Keyna would be the one to heal the wounded animal, creating a permanent snarl similar to Mickey's if he chose, but more importantly earning his trust and gratitude.

Jack felt nauseous at the whole idea, but of course his opinions didn't matter here.

"Mayra, do you understand what we will do?"

"Yes, Keyna." Jack thought quickly, then repeated what they said, as if to confirm his understanding, but really as a way to tell poor Jerry what was intended. There was no sense making it harder on the little guy when things were going to end the same way no matter what. "You will command the rahi to bite. If he does not learn quickly, you will make me cut his face to make him bite until he learns to do it on command." It might even get Jack's part over with quickly, and spare himself some pain. There was nothing to be done for Carnamo; a time delay would gain Carnamo little and cost Jack and Jerry much.

Jerry, beside his new master, growled with disbelief. Keyna smiled at the sound.

"And what will you do when he bites, mayra?"

"I will try to stay still and allow him to bite me when you order him to, Keyna." It was a longer answer than he usually gave; he was trying to tell Jerry that he had not heard wrong.

"Good, mayra. Hmmm. What to name my new prize?" Keyna looked down at Jerry, who was sniffing at him with his nostrils crinkled as if he smelled something that had gone bad. "Bigto, perhaps?"

Jack's eyes flicked automatically to Jerry's feet. His toes didn't seem unusually big. The word must mean something here.

"Perhaps my friend Keyna would like to take some time to consider that? The little one will be with his mother for several more days yet." Blenna was eager to train the beast, so that he could be used to correct Carnamo.

Keyna cocked his head. "Do you not preface commands to your beasts with their name? I do that for my mayree. I had thought it was common for all animal training."

Blenna relaxed, now that he understood. "It is a common practice, yes. Especially when multiple animals are near. However, in this case it may not be prudent. He knows neither his name nor the command. You do not want to confuse him so that he bites at the sound of his name."

Keyna nodded. "My friend Blenna is very sensible indeed. Let us begin." He turned to Jack. "Mayra, I shall bring the beast near. When I give the command to bite, you will swing your hand at him aggressively, so he instinctively snaps. Do you understand, mayra?"

"Yes, Keyna. You will bring Je—the rahi near and command him to bite. I will swing my hand at him and he will bite it."

Keyna came the last step to Jack, and Jerry followed automatically. There was a pause. Then Keyna said, "Bite!" sharply.

Jack swatted at Jerry's face. Jerry, who's expression looked for all the world like Teal'c's when he observed a silly-seeming Earth custom, half-heartedly nipped it.

Keyna praised him enthusiastically, patting him and giving him a treat. "Bite!" he said again. Jack took another swing, and Jerry gently grabbed the hand in his teeth. Keyna praised him again, telling him what a smart creature he was, and giving another treat.

"Hit him harder next time, mayra. We want a nice solid attack."

"Yes, Keyna, I will hit him harder." He hoped Jerry understood that it was Keyna giving the orders and not Jack wanting to hurt him.

"Bite!"

Jack swung at Jerry, hard and fast. Jerry, expecting it, dodged and caught the hand on the backswing. His hold was firm, but not really painful.

It went on for a few more tries. Keyna was ecstatic at the animal's quick learning, but disappointed in the mildness of the attack. He thought it might be similar to Bruto's own issue of not following through on the kill. Beside him, Jerry was muttering that this was a stupid game and he hoped it was over so the silly man who played it would go away. Jack, the only one to understand the sounds, sympathized.

It was Blenna's turn to offer up a suggestion. He took Jack to the backroom where the targets were stuffed with laxila, rubber, or other things. Jack was made to rub some herbs on his arms – Blenna had told Keyna the stuff was like catnip to the rahi, and used in training – and then return and assault Jerry more aggressively. That had the desired effect. They ended up playing tug-of-war with Jack's arm, Jerry growling heartily and jerking his head back and forth. At least that's the part Jack remembered. Then there was screaming – probably his own, it hurt like hell – then everything went dark.

He awoke to a slap from Keyna, and an impatient command to get up. They repeated the exercise, and only Jack's fear of Keyna's punishment for refusal kept him going. This time had the added bonus of Carnamo as an audience, to make sure he knew that the rahi was capable of some significant damage despite his small size. The third time was done without the catnip herbs, or Carnamo, to see if Jerry had learned to attack intensely. Thankfully, he had, and the third time was the last. Jerry thought the game was much more fun when his prey thrashed and screamed and bled.

Jack woke on his own this time, discarded in the aisle where he'd collapsed. They had healed him at least, instead of leaving him to suffer until he had another job to do. That was probably Blenna's idea; he was much more practical with his mayree than the cruel Keyna. Or perhaps Jerry had bitten through an artery, and they'd had to repair it so he wouldn't bleed to death. Either way, he was grateful to be left alone for a while.

Carnamo was not so lucky. He could hear Keyna giving the sobbing slave orders. Handle the adult rahi, which had no particular reason to bite, or else the young rahi would attack for sure. In Keyna's view, a simple matter of choosing possible pain over certain pain. To Carnamo, probably his worst nightmare.

It went on and on, as they progressed Carnamo until he was giving commands to the mother beast. His attempts to sound firm sounded more like hysterical screeches. It wasn't long before she began to show her annoyance by snapping.

Surprisingly, it was Keyna who called an end to it for the day. He ordered Tarmo to feed the beast then take her back to the cubs. He praised Carnamo lavishly, telling him how strong he was and that he'd be back to his old self in no time, before allowing him to scurry to the safety of his own stall. He and Blenna walked toward Jack again, where they could talk without being overheard by Carnamo.

"I am sure my friend knows best, but may I ask why we stopped?" Blenna was eager to go on. "We have made so much progress!"

"Indeed," Keyna smiled at him. "I am pleased as well. But I fear if we push too hard, he may break down completely. He very nearly crossed that point when the adult rahi snapped at him. He needed to end with the first success afterwards." Keyna turned serious. "Ordinarily, I would take several days for this, but there is little time before the competition so speed is necessary. I must advise my good friend Blenna that there is serious risk that this mayra will crack under the strain, and be irrecoverable. It may be wise to have Tarmo practice Carnamo's competition role."

Blenna sagged. "What am I to do? If Tarmo takes Carnamo's position, then I will be holding the beasts myself at the competition. It will look as if I am a very poor man indeed, and who will expect quality beasts from a poor man?" He looked to Keyna. "Could you get Carnamo to do Tarmo's part with certainty? It is less intense."

Keyna answered slowly. "Perhaps. It may be safer to try that." He was going to say more but was interrupted by a cry from the other end of the barn.

Tarmo came hurrying up, dropping to his knees and holding out both hands, palms down, but shaking them up and down to show his request to be heard had urgency.

"What is it, Tarmo?" Blenna was looking toward the beast stalls for a clue.

"It is, master, it is, it is Carnamo!" Tarmo was shaking.

"What about Carnamo?" Blenna demanded. "Come, mayree!"

Keyna was already striding toward the slaves' stall, and Blenna followed quickly. It was empty, and both spun, alert for an escaping slave.

Carnamo was found quickly enough. He was slumped by the towel-drying rack, suspended by a choke chain around his neck. A cloth was stuffed in his mouth, only he would know if it was to ensure silence or help suffocate himself.

Tarmo was shaking, trying to control himself. He made unfamiliar gestures with his hands, and Jack guessed they were either wards against evil or meant to help Carnamo's spirit pass on. For his own part, Jack stood still, averting his eyes from the twisted purple face and saying a silent blessing for the dead.

Jack was given the task of removing the body. When he made it to the little room Blenna had indicated, he found a big butcher block and an assortment of large knives. He firmly told himself to remember the weapons for tactical uses if he ever had a chance to escape, and not to think of the room's likely purpose of making rahi chow. He gave Carnamo what dignity he could, closing the bulging eyes, arranging his limbs neatly and covering his face with the rag that had been in his mouth.

Jack busied himself cleaning the spot where Carnamo had died, scrubbing up the remnants of feces and spittle, then washing the rags. He worked as slowly as he dared, delaying any potential of being assigned the grisly task of turning the dead man into pet food.

Blenna was beside himself. Not with grief over Carnamo, though he repeatedly commented on how good he had been prior to the rahi/badger incident. He was more worried about the prospect of going to the competition with only one mayra and looking impoverished. He babbled as he paced back and forth, trying to work up solutions. The rahi training community was small, and no one was likely to sell an experienced handler at any price so near a competition for fear the slave would tell his former master's secrets. If was also not unheard of for an owner to find sufficient incentive to ensure the mayra he sold would sabotage his new master in competition, so if he did manage to find one, could he trust him? Perhaps a particularly well-trained mayra could be found, without experience of rahi but accustomed to instant execution of orders? An expensive option, but the upcoming competition was critical for Blenna's business plans.

Blenna stopped abruptly as Jack was hanging up a cloth on the drying rack, near the spot where Carnamo had been. Jack tensed, expecting the dreaded command to, well, *process* Carnamo's body.

Blenna turned, not to Jack, but to Keyna. "My friend Keyna, I would like to purchase this mayra from you." He indicated Jack, then waved his hands in the formal gesture of offering.

Jack felt his hopes rise. Blenna, while not exactly killing his slaves with kindness, was not nearly as likely as Keyna to kill them with cruelty. And he'd still be near enough that if any rescue ever did come, they would still find him.

Keyna hesitated, clearly thinking fast, his eyes flicking to the back room where Carnamo lay, and narrowing as they switched over to Jack.

Blenna saw the glance. "This one doesn't have much experience," he agreed with what he thought was Keyna's hesitation, maybe also thinking it could lower the price, "but he is unafraid of rahi, and I could take both mayree to the hills for a few days of intense training. It is my best chance."

Still Keyna hesitated. He all but glared at Jack, as if he were deliberately preventing the sale.

"The fire is hot," Blenna said enticingly, waving toward the hearth, "we could seal the deal and brand him here and now."

oOo

Daniel, almost done checking the cart for the final time, paused as his fingers brushed a shiny silver packet. "Vaya con queso," Jack used to quip. Daniel could practically hear him say it, including the lilt at the end that gave away that it was no accidental slip of the tongue. Vaya con queso. Go with cheese. It used to drive him nuts – which was probably Jack's reason for continuing to say it – because it was a deliberate misuse of language and it wasn't even a good pun. Later, it had become somewhat of an inside joke at the SGC. Few of the planets populated by the Goa'uld had animals. As a result, few of the alien people they met had ever tasted cheese, or milk, or ice cream or any other dairy product. Dairy had turned out to be nearly as popular as chocolate as a trading commodity. It was now common practice to carry some packets of cheese sauce to offer for shared meals with new alien acquaintances; it was sealed, and, like soup, was easiest to split when you didn't know in advance how many people you'd be dining with. Jack's little joke had become SOP, standard operating procedure.

Jack. Daniel's fingertips traced designs on the squishy surface of the cheese pack as he thought of his friend. So many things were running through his mind, and his heart.

"We'll get him out of here, Daniel," a voice said gently in his ear.

Sam had come up next to him, and he hadn't even noticed. He knew what Jack would say about that, too. Giving himself a little shake, and offering her a tiny wry smile, he agreed. "It's about time!"

"Indeed," Teal'c added. He was standing on the other side of the cart. There was little room between it and the wall in their little shelter, and he preferred the greater freedom on the other side.

Sam looked down, reaching to close the canvas cover over the top. "Vaya con queso," she murmured, seeing where Daniel's hand still rested. She gave him a sympathetic glance, and he looked away. He needed strength now, not tenderness. "Let's go." Daniel pulled the canvas cover closed and took a step toward the back of the wagon.

Sam joined him. They would push the cart instead of pulling it, the better to show that they were merchants. Bright banners waived cheerily off the corners of the cart. As the "official" from the mountain city, Teal'c would walk behind them. It would also give him freedom to go on the defense if they were attacked.

When they were near the city, they paused to check each other's appearance. Each wore a flowing cloak, brilliant blue on the outside, as apparent leaders in the city had worn, and leafy green on the inside in case they needed them for cover in the woods. They were clasped at the shoulders with pretty stones which conveniently covered their radios on one side, and fluttered open at the fronts, showing loose tunic and trousers in a lighter shade of blue. Under those, the portable siege weapons were wrapped around their waists, and as a final layer they wore close fitting dark clothes for potential stealth operations.

Satisfied with their looks, they made a final adjustment to the cart. Switching on Daniel's IPOD, they trumpeted triumphal-sounding music through tiny speakers, and turned to walk the last distance to the town. By the time they cleared the trees, there were a dozen or more people curiously looking for the source of the music. As they walked slowly closer, the crowd grew and grew. They slowed, raising their arms and spreading them wide as if in greeting, smiling at one and all.

A military contingent appeared to the left, moving at a quick-march pace.

The trio stopped and waited to be approached.

One man strode at the head of the armed forces, with two others close on either side, holding shields. This was clearly the leader, flanked by protectors in case the newcomers attacked.

"Dig the handlebar eyebrows," Sam murmured.

A chuckle escaped Daniel, and it made him feel better. He could handle this. The stakes were high, but meeting alien cultures was something he'd done dozens of times now. It wasn't like poor Janet, back home trying to help cure a strange illness that was sweeping the country. He could bargain with *his* adversary, and one of their fallback plans – purchasing Jack, wiping the leaders' memory, or euthanizing their friend – was practically guaranteed to succeed. He let the alien leader approach, trying not to watch the tips of the excessively long eyebrows as they waggled humorously.

The warriors stopped, and the man with the handlebar eyebrows came the last few steps, still flanked by his guardians.

Daniel lowered the volume on the music, and stepped to the front. Sam took a couple of steps forward, but on the other side of the cart. It seemed unintentional, but it was purposefully done to provide her shelter if a fight broke out. Teal'c stood still in regal silence a few feet away.

"Baron Honna asks your name and purpose," the right-hand protector said in a bold voice. He extended his hands, both palms up, demanding an answer.

Daniel bowed his head, and waved slowly at himself and his companions. "We come from the city in the mountains."

A ripple went through the crowd at that, and whispers started.

"We have only recently found a way past the blockage," Daniel went on. "We wish to meet you, and perhaps begin peaceful trade. We bring sample wares," he waved his hand, and Sam pulled back the canvas cart cover. Bright stone jewelry, deliberately arranged on top, twinkled in the sunlight, nestled in soft cloth of sumptuous colors. The crowd oooh'd and ahhh'd, edging a bit closer for a better look.

The Baron's eyes were drawn to the pretty colors, but only for a moment. He turned back to the newcomers, speaking for himself now. "Your goods are appealing, potential friend. But I must ask myself why, if you are truly from the mountain city, you do not come at the head of your army to show that you are fully restored?"

"A wise question, my potential friend," Daniel agreed politely, picking up the formal manner of speaking. "It was our thought that to approach in force a city already at war could spark an unwanted fight. Yet we would not sneak quietly into town when we are the proud messengers of the mountain city. We chose three emissaries," he waved at himself, Teal'c, and Carter, "to bring our message. If we do not return, then our army can act." He knew Teal'c and Sam would both be annoyed at the choice of "can act" instead of the stronger "will act" but he hated to lie, and there was little chance of any army coming to save or avenge them.

"I am called Daniel, and I am a historian in our city." A murmur went through the crowd, and he thought it must be because of his occupation. Perfect time to start a cover story for any cultural mistakes they made. "Much was lost when our city was separated. Hard times forced us to change many of our habits. I beg you to forgive any customs we have that seem strange to you. As historian, I would also ask that you explain any differences you observe."

Daniel turned, and bowed to Teal'c. "This man is Teal'c." He paused, a bit flustered by another wash of whispers in the crowd. "Teal'c is a leader of our city. The choice of one so high shows you the strength of our desire to become friends and begin trade."

Teal'c inclined his head, but only his head. At his rank, they had decided he should not bow. "This is Samantha," Teal'c said, indicating her.

Daniel noted curiously that there were no whispers at her introduction.

Teal'c was still talking. "She is sister to Daniel and also my own bride." He made the gesture that Morgan's team had observed several men making toward women.

There was a jolly tittering in the crowd.

The Baron waved them to silence, but was grinning widely, his curvy dark brows rolling like waves. "Our friend is a new-made groom indeed if he greets his wife with the symbol of servitude!"

Teal'c, ever quick on the uptake, came right back. He held out a hand and Carter took it delicately. "She is dearer to me than my own heart, as, by extension, is her brother." He looked calmly at the Baron, but the message was clear enough. The other two mattered to a ranking official, and would be treated accordingly.

"We offer you a gift to commemorate our meeting," Teal'c said formally.

Carter took one of the decorative amulets off the cart and walked slowly to the Baron, watching his reaction. He inclined his head, and she draped the amulet over his neck, pausing to admire it for a moment before backing off.

"I thank you for the gift, my new friends," Honna said formally. "I offer my hospitality to you."

Daniel swept his arms out and back, drawing the words toward him. "We gladly accept our new friend's offer."

Honna paused a moment, perhaps thinking of what Daniel had said earlier about cultural differences. "You are far more than common merchants, you are honored guests. We would be privileged to entertain you, and show you our fair city. We will view your wares after a proper dinner, as is our custom."

Daniel and Carter both smiled and bowed. Teal'c inclined his head.

"Excellent!" Baron Honna gestured to the cart. "When you are made comfortable, I would like to hear tales of the mountain city. In the meantime, will you honor us with more of your music while we walk?"

Carter turned it back up, and they, along with the Baron and his bodyguards, headed a procession into the city, getting the attention of everyone they passed. They were soon ensconced in an airy pavilion near the center of town, with open sides and a roof of colorful cloth that undulated in the breeze. Their cart was proudly displayed, and passersby craned their necks for a glimpse of the contents. Slaves in black scurried to bring drinks and light refreshments.

Baron Honna asked questions about the mountain city, which Daniel answered according to the stories he'd made up before arriving. He led the conversation mostly toward the town's history, out of interest and a lack of volume of things to say about the mountain.

Teal'c asked about the city, how it was laid out, commerce, and such, questions a governor would ask. Conveniently, the answers would also help when searching for a slave. Baron Honna explained that they kept to the traditional layout; mills and farms, which needed space, were at the outskirts. Then houses, shops, and armories in concentric circles. The armories, the most critical buildings in war time, were at the center, where they were most easily defended.

Baron Honna laughed as he finished. "As you can see, my own house is very far out on the outskirts, as my lady wife is only now arriving."

An angry expression flitted across the face of the tall blonde woman who was approaching, quickly replaced by a polite smile. "I came as quickly as may be, my husband, while observing the proper attire."

Carter jumped in on that one. She didn't know what was wrong with the Baron's clothes, but she did know what might appeal to the bejeweled woman. "I am Samantha, wife to Teal'c," she gave a half-curtsy to him, "and sister to Daniel." She nodded at the other man. "May I present you with a gift?"

That earned a true smile, and she accepted. "I am Quinna, wife to Honna, and I would be happy to accept."

Carter stepped to the cart. She offered an amulet to Quinna, who took it and draped it over her neck. "I have an additional trinket, from one leader's wife to another." She held out her hand, exposing two small circles.

Teal'c smiled. Everything was going according to plan so far. "My lady wife understands the value of information. These can be quite useful in politics."

Quinna looked closer at the rings, which sported large dark stones.

"We call them 'mood rings.' The metal is quite delicate, and the stones change color with the wearer's mood," Carter explained. "You can tell when the one you are negotiating with becomes happy or angry." She murmured something additional to Quinna. Daniel caught the word 'husband,' and Quinna chuckled.

Quinna slipped one on, and offered the other to Honna. They both sat quietly for a moment, gasping as his turned blue and hers green. "Amazing!" she exclaimed, holding it near her heart.

"We have brought many of them, a gift from our city to yours. We will be happy to offer them as tokens as we visit your city. You will know the mood of many you meet." *And Jack will know someone from home is nearby if he sees cheesy little mood rings showing up.*

~oOo~

"Why do you think Honna sent you instead of Daniel?" Carter murmured to Teal'c. They were strolling along the city street, heading toward what looked like a marketplace. Honna himself had suggested the pair wander the city and get to know his people. "And why didn't he send anyone with us?"

Teal'c had a ready answer. "He wishes me, as a leader of our city, to see the strength of his city. I believe his intent is to show his power, that I will have no desire to battle against it. I am also certain that he will interview many who see us, asking them if we focused on his battlements and whether we seemed impressed. As historian, Daniel Jackson is less suited to his purpose of measuring our response. At the same time, a historian is more likely to let slip important details about our city than a political leader."

"Makes sense," Carter agreed. The corners of her mouth twisted up in a smirk. "Daniel didn't seem too happy about it, though." If she knew Daniel – and she did – he would much rather see the way of life of the citizens and talk to everyday people than sit and make small talk with a politician.

"He was not," Teal'c agreed, suppressing his own smile. "Undoubtedly, he will make the best of it and learn much about how this city is ruled."

~oOo~

The baron was pointing out the various mayree serving them and telling Daniel about them and their history. Most, men and women alike, were prisoners of the war between this and the neighboring tribe. The rest were the children and grandchildren of slaves.

A quartet of slaves approached together, one bearing a tray laden with engraved goblets. She sank smoothly to her knees as soon as the empty-handed trio had each taken a goblet from the tray. The three eyed each other, being very careful to offer the glasses at exactly the same moment.

"Thank you," Daniel said to the air in general, not sure whether he should thank the woman servant as well as the host. He decided to offer them a compliment. "These servants are lovely, as were all the others, my friend."

"Thank you, Danya-el." It was Quinna, not Honna, who spoke, correcting herself mid-sentence from making his name end with an 'a.' "I pride myself on keeping up the appearance of our household, including the mayree, so it pleases me that you notice my efforts." She smiled at him. "Of course, normally all four would have matching coloring, but the tray-bearer is in training." She waved at the tray bearer, now surrounded by the other three, all kneeling and waiting for the order to leave.

It had not had any significance whatsoever to Daniel that the trio were redheaded while the tray-bearer was blonde. Now that Quinna pointed it out, though, he realized there were relatively few blonde slaves. Most had hair in some reddish shade. He filed that fact away for later consideration, and decided that a compliment was in order to reassure his hostess that her choice of servants was perfectly fine.

"She is lovely," he said, "you have excellent taste."

Quinna beamed.

Honna, however, read more into it than intended. "Mayra," he gestured sharply at the blonde, and she rose and walked over to stand before Daniel. She stole a shy peek at him from close up. "You will service him tonight."

Daniel's gasp was nothing compared to hers. Before he could politely demur, she threw herself to Honna's feet.

"Master! Kind master, please, no! Do not make me do this!"

Honna kicked her, hard, and she rolled completely over. "How dare you!" he shouted. "Your body is mine, and will be used as I direct!"

The girl lay on her belly, crying, holding both hands out palms down. "Please, good master! I beg you! I will service the entire guard staff if you wish. Just not him! Not him!"

Daniel was speechless. He hadn't wanted the girl, and didn't expect her to want him. But to prefer to take on a whole crew of unknown men instead?

Honna noticed his guest's shock, and it upset him all the further. "A thousand thousand apologies, honored guest!" He bowed repeatedly, as did Quinna beside him. The redheaded trio cowered, faces in the dirt.

The blond girl kept whimpering, "Mercy, my kind master, mercy!"

Honna was apoplectic with anger. Quinna spoke for him. "Choose the manner of her death, honored guest, and it will be carried out at once, in your sight or out of it. These others shall be executed as well, so you can be assured that no one will ever know what happened here."

"I, uh, wow," Daniel was trying to regain his composure and decide what could salvage this situation. "I, I don't want anyone to die. I appreciate the offer, and all, but, um, can we settle for never mentioning this again?"

Honna quickly accepted that suggestion, waving an arm for another servant, standing discreetly out of earshot, to approach.

"Oh, wait," Daniel said. Honna flicked his hand, and the fifth servant retreated. "May I ask if there is some polite explanation of what caused her reaction? If my appearance is offensive in some way, and you, my hosts, have been kindly ignoring it, I would like to correct it."

Honna kicked the blonde onto her back. She lay there, except for flipping her hands to keep them palms down in the gesture for mercy. "Explain yourself, mayra!"

She spoke in a shaky voice. "It is his, his hair, my kind and gentle master. Some strands are turning silver." She sobbed. "My original master had a mayra whose hair did that. Lord Keyna said it was a sign of a grievous disease and that the mayra must never, never be touched in that way lest we die!"

Daniel was excited by the news. It was a relief to find out he wasn't disgusting, of course, but if gray hair was unheard of, then the person she spoke of must be Jack. As soon as he thought it, he paled with the worry that if they thought him diseased, they had euthanized him.

Honna had waved the fifth slave close again, and was speaking to him. "Take these four where we can see but not hear and cut out their tongues. Allow them to cry or scream, but if any speaks so much as one word, kill them all. Go."

The male slave turned at once and began to walk away. Such was the training of slaves on this planet that all four women stumbled after him, sobbing and holding each other, but not daring to refuse.

"Wait," Daniel said. "That isn't necessary. I understand now, and I'm not angry."

"You are very kind, honored guest," Honna said, placing his hands over his heart. "We truly appreciate your generosity. We shall, at your request, consider our debt to you for the offense paid. However, the offense to me is not. I will not allow any chance that a story of my mayree insulting a guest will ever be told."

"Isn't that a bit, ah, extreme? Couldn't you just order them not to talk?" He tried to be delicate, but he had to say something.

"You have seen already that fear can cause disobedience," Honna pointed out with a frown. "Surely you would not trust your secrets to just anyone?"

"Well, no, not secrets, but this was not a matter of security, just an insult."

Honna's eyebrows rose at the word security, and Daniel could almost see his ears perk up at the idea that his guest had knowledge of the mountain city's security.

"There is little more precious than a man's reputation," Honna pointed out, perhaps a bit sternly. "Anyway, it does not matter anymore." He gestured at something behind Daniel's shoulder.

The male servant approached, and set four wet red strips at Honna's feet. "None spoke, master." He bowed, and held the position, waiting to be dismissed.

Daniel stared at the tongues in morbid fascination. They were longer than he had expected, and steamed gently in the brisk air, still warm with the heat of the bodies they had just left.

"Perhaps our guest would like the souvenirs?" Quinna asked politely.

"No!" Daniel jumped, realizing he must have been distracted for several seconds. The male slave was back in his original position, wiping gore from his hands onto the hem of his shirt. Beyond him, the four women walked away, bent over and with blood running over their hands that covered their mouths. As he glanced, the three redheads, helping each other along, shoved the blonde before them. He deliberately looked away from them, and their tongues, back to Quinna. "I mean, no," he said it more gently this time, "but thank you for the offer."

She smiled at him, and he ran his hand through his hair, thoroughly nonplussed by the whole event. The feel of the strands in his fingers prompted him. "You should know that my hair color is not a sign of any sickness," he told his hosts.

They had delicately edged away at some point, and now relaxed their posture. "Of course it is not," Honna said stoutly.

"When we get older – or are under a lot of stress," he added that quickly, not wanting to set himself up as being overly old if that was bad here, and in hindsight there had been no elderly people in Morgan's videos, "our hair can turn silver."

"Really?" Quinna leaned closer to look for the silver among the other fair strands. "How old are you?"

Honna patted her arm suddenly. "It is the wars!" he exclaimed. "Or, rather, it is not." He turned to Daniel. "You have had no fighting to thin your ranks since you were separated! It is rare here to live past the age of thirty-six. How long do people live in," he hesitated just a fraction as he recalled the name they had given for their city, "Cheyenne Mountain City?" He seemed excited by the question, perhaps because he looked to be in his early thirties and therefore near the end of his presumed lifespan.

"Seventy or eighty years is common. A few live to be a hundred."

"People can live that long!" They were both surprised, and suitably impressed.

"Yes, and they can be quite active as well. In fact," *here we go, do this right,* Daniel told himself, "we sent a party of four ahead to scout, a few weeks ago. Only three returned. The fourth is a man with silver hair. Have you seen him?"

"You sent spies to our city!" Quinna rose again, her voice rising shrilly.

Honna was a beat behind her, but held his temper long enough to check his facts. "Were these four warriors or mayree?" At the last word, Quinna's head tilted back and her eyes relaxed, it was clearly something she had not thought of. Daniel took the cue.

"They were mayree, of course," he assured them, picking the more favorable answer. "We want to be friends. We would not send warriors."

"You see?" Honna patted Quinna's arm, and she sat back down with a self-conscious laugh.

"Of course, of course." She cast about for something else to restart the conversation, and noticed that their goblets had been upset by the recent events. She flicked one hand up to shoulder height, and a servant appeared moments later, bowing as she waited for an order. She ordered replacement drinks, and the woman, a redhead, turned quickly to obey. "Rubies only, no pearls."

The woman bobbed her head in confirmation and scurried away.

Quinna turned back to the men, noticing Daniel's curious look. She smiled. "I call the red haired slaves rubies and the blondes pearls. It distinguishes them in a way that I find appealing, and it gives them a sense of value." She inclined her head. "There will be no more blonde servants to remind you of anything unpleasant."

Since the subject had come up again, and he was curious anyway, Daniel asked why some of the slaves were fair-haired like the baron while most were dark-haired like the people of the enemy city.

The baron seemed surprised at the question. "Once a Mayree, always a Mayree," he explained. Captured slaves remained slaves, even if they were originally of one's own city.

The archaeologist in him found that intriguing. He had seen many cultures that enslaved captured people, of course. But never one that didn't free its own people when they were recovered. He considered how to ask delicately. "That is…different…than our ways. Tell me, if a man or woman is captured today and recovered tomorrow, does he or she remain Mayree?"

The baron considered. "Perhaps not after a single day. But it doesn't take long before a Mayra's spirit is irrecoverably broken. Once taken, no one has ever been able to function as a free man again."

"Have you let them try?" The friend in him didn't believe that the indomitable Jack O'Neill had been broken at all, let alone in mere days. The humanitarian in him was angered at the assumption that all slaves were irredeemable.

The baron bristled at that, and Daniel quickly continued. "I mean no disrespect, baron. I am just curious, of course. It is a long time before our..mayree…are unable to return to their prior places."

"It would seem our training methods are more effective than yours, then," the baron snapped. "Meaning no disrespect, of course." He said it sharply, clearly observing the courtesy without the feeling.

"None taken, baron." Daniel needed to get the conversation back on safer ground if he was going to keep the man friendly. "I can say already and with certainty that you train slaves much more quickly than we do."

That seemed to mollify him somewhat. "We do pride ourselves on breaking a new Mayra quickly. After that, it is merely a matter of detail. My handler is one of the best. His Mayree find even the thought of refusal or escape inconceivable."

"Really?" Daniel choked out the question, doubts creeping into his mind. Morgan had said that Jack was secured, but her team had seen no physical restraint. Had he simply refused to escape?

"Oh, yes!" The baron's good humor was returning. "Keyna often tests his Mayree with opportunities to disobey or even escape. Simple things, at first, such as setting a starving mayra to discarding the kitchen scraps." He chuckled. "You should see some of the tests he sets his mayree before declaring them fully trained! That man is a genius!"

"I'd love to meet him," Daniel said with honest enthusiasm. The Baron had used the same name that the servant girl had. His friend was the one who had Jack.

"Certainly," the Baron agreed. He waved for the watching male servant again, and the man approached.

Trying to sound like it was an afterthought, Daniel suggested asking Keyna to bring along his silver haired mayra to see if it was the one who had not returned to Daniel.

Honna agreed, with a caution that if Keyna had documentation of a fair capture, then the slave was now his and they had no right to ask for it back for free. It wasn't as if either Keyna or Honna had a debt to Daniel to obligate the mayra's return.

Daniel nodded, covering his speechless anger at himself by taking a sip from his goblet and biting the rim angrily. He had spent a lifetime studying people, alive and past, and had quickly recognized that these people valued honor and repayment of seemingly trivial debts. Honna would have gone to great lengths to oblige any demand after the incident with the servant girl, and as city leader could probably arrange virtually anything. Daniel could have just asked for Jack!

The conversation wore on, with Daniel dutifully attentive to both Honna and Quinna. He was about to ask about Jack again, when he saw him approaching. He was dressed in the black of slavery and followed, eyes downcast, a step behind a colorfully dressed man. Between the man's hand and Jack's neck sparkles danced, and at first Daniel thought it was some kind of energy beam. As they neared, he could see there was a black strap, almost invisible against the dark soil, and the sparkling came from small shiny objects on it that glittered in the sun. Daniel's eyes widened a bit, but he didn't comment. Jack looked tired, but basically ok. So whatever form the discipline took, it wasn't leaving marks outside his clothing or preventing him from walking.

When the man stopped, Jack knelt beside him with his eyes lowered. He didn't even glance at Daniel.

"You see?" the baron said, sweeping his arm toward the colonel. "He already begins to accept his station." To the handler, he said, "You have done well, Keyna. Our visitor may have once owned this mayra, and I'm sure he is quite impressed with your progress."

Keyna smiled in pleasure.

"Yes..." Daniel said hesitantly. He noticed Jack start slightly at the sound of his voice. The colonel must have really kept his eyes down the whole way, and did not know where he'd been led or who else was there. It worried him; Jack was usually the first to bend rules, sneak peeks, anything for information or a chance at escape. "He was once mine, and actually I would like him back. May I ask your price?"

The Baron raised a hand, and shook his head slightly. "Here in Adel city, business is for after dinner, my new friend. And you did ask me to let you know when your custom was different from ours." He smiled. "Let us invite our friend Keyna to join us for dinner, and afterward you may bargain for the mayra."

"I am honored to join you, my Lord Baron," Keyna said formally, bowing and waving his arms toward himself to accept the offer. "However, I must tell you that this mayra has already been spoken for. Had he done better in his training," he spared a glare for Jack, and jerked the leash in irritation, "he would even now be branded and in active service of his new master. As it is, I was just on my way to have a final… discussion… on behavior with the mayra before he is taken on a trial basis."

"I will take him as-is, my friend Keyna," Daniel offered, mimicking the gesture he had seen Honna use when making an offer. "You need not trouble yourself with further training. You could enjoy the day with us instead and we can talk of the profitable trades in our future. I will be most amenable to someone who restored my pride by restoring my mayra to me." Daniel did his best to entice Keyna to the deal.

The Baron chuckled with delight. "Two bidders for one mayra! Our friend Keyna is lucky indeed. Will he choose to stay with the original offer, even if it means further training? Or will he allow a higher bid, sweetened with unconditional acceptance?"

Keyna scoffed. "I do not sell imperfect mayree."

"Perfection is in the eye of the, er, owner," Daniel debated. "I was happy with him before you even started, my new friend."

"Your standards are too low, my new friend," Keyna admonished gently. "You will find him much changed after my tutelage."

"You do seem to have made quite a difference in him. May I ask exactly how you did it?"

Keyna frowned. "That is not something to be spoken of in this company."

"Please pardon me, Keyna. I meant no disrespect," Danliel replied immediately. "We have never been so successful in so short a time, and so I was curious."

"Indeed, Keyna," the baron chimed in. "Our honored guest here was never able to completely control the mayra!"

"Is it a property of the leash that makes him obey?"

"The leash?" Keyna laughed. "It is nothing but a strip of animal hide. I use it because it pleases me to see the obvious sign of his servitude. And because it angers him to wear it. Do you like your leash, Mayra?"

"No, Keyna." His response was completely devoid of emotion. *Just do your duty, soldier, he reminded himself. Think of the alternative...*

Keyna noticed Daniel's apprehensive glance in his direction at the Mayra's negative answer. He smiled. "The Mayra has already learned the value of honesty. He will not dare to lie. He hates his leash, and must say so if asked. Would that he learned all his lessons as quickly!" Keyna casually tightened it around the colonel's neck. Jack did not resist. Keyna nudged the kneeling man with his toe. "If you beg me, I will remove it," he offered.

Jack did not respond.

"Ask but once and I will remove your leash." He turned his wrist, and the leash twisted, the sharp edged stones now facing skin instead of air.

Still no response. Keyna tightened the leash further; Jack's breath whistled slightly as he struggled to take in air. Slim streaks of blood trickled down his neck from where the stones dug in. "Merely raise one hand in supplication and I will remove it."

Jack did nothing. The offer hadn't included the word "Mayra" - if he acted upon it, he would be punished. Keyna was just playing with him.

"You see?" Keyna sighed, releasing the pressure without bothering to look down at his charge. "He will not ask. He is still too proud to be a good mayra. Aren't you, Mayra?"

"Yes, Keyna."

"But he is learning. Aren't you, Mayra?"

"Yes, Keyna."

"Shall we see what he does if I release him?" Keyna unsnapped the leash, dropping it in the dirt.

Daniel saw a resigned look flit across Jack's face, and a smirk across Keyna's, though he didn't understand it. He couldn't know that the silty soil would stick to the bloody stones, and harden like concrete when it dried. Or that Jack would have to sacrifice hours of sleep to polish them up or face punishment for starting the next day with his leash dirty.

"Good boy." He patted the man on the head deliberately, as if he were a pet. Jack's face twitched as he suppressed a scowl. "Mayra, run and get a cold drink for me that I may toast to the Baron Honna and his lady wife Quinna."

Daniel watched in amazement as Jack ran, actually ran, off on his errand. And ran quickly back to kneel before him and offer the drink.

Daniel tried to decide what to do. "May I speak with him?" Daniel decided to try the direct approach.

"Ask him whatever you wish."

"Ja-- Mayra? Are you alright?"

Jack cocked his head at the handler and did not answer. Keyna smiled and stroked the kneeling man's hair in a demeaning way. "Very good, mayra. Answer his questions."

"I'm alright," Jack said.

Keyna struck him, hard enough to knock him all the way over onto his back. Daniel tensed, expecting Jack to fight back. After one instinctive twitch back at his attacker, Jack subsided, remaining on the ground. Despite his still-averted eyes, Jack had the tense expression usually seen when he was urgently trying to think of a way to talk himself out of a bad situation.

"You are to address him as 'honored guest', mayra!" the handler snapped.

"Yes, Keyna." Far from anger, Jack's tone sounded grateful, as if the other man had given him a gift. Later, Daniel would find out that he had; the gift of learning a rule at the comparatively modest cost of only a punch.

"So you train by violence?" Daniel asked disdainfully, hoping to embarrass him into stopping the physical abuse, at least in front of him. He wasn't naïve enough to believe there wouldn't be pain or humiliation while Jack was captive, but he could encourage that it happen privately, between only Jack and his subjugator.

Keyna looked calmly back at him. "We do not often do so. But he transgressed in front of the Baron and an honored guest and must be corrected in your presence. It is a simple and immediate correction, and betrays no guild secrets."

Keyna looked down at Jack. "How many times have you been physically punished by me, mayra?"

"Three, Keyna." Jack said, not meeting his eyes or moving from the ground.

"You see? Even he confirms that he is not being abused." Jack looked like he had something to say about that, but didn't make a sound. "You may continue to speak with him if you like." He didn't tell Jack to get up, so he continued to lie there.

"Uh, Jack? Are they treating you ok?"

"No, honored guest," he replied.

"A mayra is rarely pleased to begin his service," Keyna pointed out.

"Are they drugging you?"

"No, honored guest." That sounded almost wistful, as if he wished they would. Knowing that Jack had been adamantly opposed to drugs after being forcibly addicted in a long past interrogation attempt, Daniel knew this was a sign of how bad things were here.

"Let this be enough of conversation with a slave," the Baron commented, clearly bored. His eyes flicked to Daniel, who had looked anxious, then he turned to Keyna. "Have dinner with us, my friend Keyna. Afterward, our honored guest can show us his wares. Perhaps you can trade the mayra for some of them." He spread his arms to include everyone. "For now, let us enjoy the fine day and one another's company."

The conversation turned to other things. Jack remained where he was, flat out on the ground, ignored. When he was underfoot of a messenger sent to the Baron, Keyna ordered him up and he returned to his kneeling position.

Daniel marveled at how still the usually fidgety Jack was. Motionless, he was nonetheless extremely alert, and Daniel had the fleeting impression of him as a gun awaiting the feather touch of a finger to leap into explosive action. It made Daniel a bit nervous, as if he was missing signs of serious danger that his friend saw.

The conversation went on, mostly just small talk and questions about each other's cities.

Two boys approached, stopping a few yards away. They were perhaps seven or eight years old, with hopeful expressions on their faces. Keyna motioned them closer with a fond smile.

"Can we play with him?" They indicated Jack, who knelt there and ignored them.

"Play with Zimmo."

"Zimmo's no fun. He whimpers all the time."

"Play with old Nedamo."

"We have Nedamo. We need another one; we want to make them fight!" One spoke, but both looked eagerly at the handler.

Jack tensed. He knew the children were allowed to use the Mayra in dogfights, but so for he hadn't been chosen due to his trainee status. If he didn't follow orders and beat the crap out of old Nedamo, then Keyna would punish Jack severely. Nedamo was frail and his hands trembled like a very old man's, though his bald head and lightly lined face made it hard to guess his true age. Would anyone believe it if Jack threw the fight? If they didn't, he would be punished and made to repeat the ordeal to Keyna's satisfaction. On the other hand, if he was merciful and took out Nedamo with one strike, the lads would just match Jack with other mayree. He began to see why Zimmo lay down and whimpered all the time. The boys rarely wanted to play with him. Maybe he could just lie down and whimper like Zimmo so the boys wouldn't want to play with him either.

Keyna saw the Mayra tense and misread the cause. He believed this slave liked to fight, but he had not so far earned any kind of reward, so it would not be allowed.

"You can play with him, but no dog fights."

"Awww..."

"I promise, when he is trained, you can fight him."

"If he's not fully trained, maybe he should stay here with us," Daniel suggested.

The boy's face fell even further.

"The Mayra wouldn't dare to harm a child!" Keyna was shocked. "Would you, Mayra?"

"No, Keyna!" His voice held urgency this time; Keyna had punished him cruelly enough for tiny things like breathing loudly, he didn't even want to *think* about what would happen if Keyna thought he'd hurt a child of the ruling class.

"You can play with him until dinner time. But no dogfights."

"Can we play Hunter?"

Keyna smiled fondly and agreed.

"All right!" The boys scampered off.

"Mayra, go. And obey."

Jack rose and trotted off after the children.

Keyna waved a hand, and a new mayra appeared at his elbow, one of the biggest men Daniel had ever seen. His eyes on Daniel, Keyna gave his orders. "The boys have gone off to play with the new mayra. Take a weapon from the armory and watch them, but do not allow yourself to be seen. If the mayra makes any attempt to harm the children, shoot him."

The mayra saluted before trotting off.

Daniel objected to the idea, of course, then tried to be more conciliatory since he wasn't yet in a position to force the issue. "Wouldn't it just be easier to keep him here if he's not fully trained?"

"What is there to worry about?" Keyna asked suspiciously. He stared at Daniel, daring him to respond. "Your own concern prompted my order."

"It was just a general comment since you agreed he was not yet fully trained," Daniel assured them. "I have never known him to hurt a child." Beyond Keyna, he saw Jack appear, running flat out toward some bushes. Was he trying to escape? He kept talking, quickly, to distract his hosts from noticing the flight. "We, uh, we usually use our mayree just for work. Do you use yours for entertainment just for the kids? Or what else do you have them do?"

A shot rang out just as Jack made the bushes. Daniel started, half rising and desperately thinking what to say. Keyna and Honna turned to look, seeing the boy come past a tree holding a gun. Jack raced out from his cover behind the bushes and toward some rocks, and the boy fired again. The boy called, and Jack trotted back to him, taking the weapon and reloading it, then rushing for some trees. Honna and Keyna smiled, and settled back into their seats, ignoring the play. Daniel kept watching over his hosts' shoulders as Jack moved again, but his latest position exposed his flank. The boy shot a fourth time, and Jack jerked as if injured, falling to the ground and writhing as if in pain. It was quite a good impression; Daniel would have to remember to tease Jack later about a second career as an actor. Jack rolled to his knees, letting the boy mount him before pushing to his feet and jogging off.

~oOo~

Teal'c and Carter wandered through the shops, making a show of admiring wares, and offering mood rings to people they met. Most of the recipients gave something in exchange, and soon the pair's pockets were filled with odds and ends, and their clothes dotted with trinkets of jewelry. There was a definite joie de vive about the city, as if each person was intent on living in the moment and enjoying every experience. They laughed, they sang, and they argued with equal intensity. Of their visitors, they noticed every detail; the texture of their clothes, the tones of their voices, the way they handled objects. At first, Carter found it exhilarating. Touch this! Smell and taste that! See and hear everything! It would have been easy to be drawn in to it, but something held her back.

When she found herself humming 'party like its 1999,' she realized what it was. There was an urgent, almost frenetic, air to the place, as if time was running out and they were madly trying to do everything before the end. Which, in a way, they were. These people had a limited time before they had to re-enlist, and their second entry into service could end only with death or enslavement. No wonder they threw themselves into everything while they could.

They continued to wander the city, stopping frequently, especially at shops that seemed to have a lot of workers in hopes of finding their missing friend among them. There was no sign of Jack, though they maneuvered to see any servant behind the tables or working in dim buildings.

Carter was playing with a child's toy, watching the tiny gears and levers move to twirl bits of bright colored cloth in pretty patterns. She commented on the delicate handiwork and smooth operation.

The shop keeper smiled. "It is a charming toy! Your children will love it. You can also attach bells," she followed word with deed and attached miniature bells to evenly spaced spots, "and it will play a melody. It keeps my little Arna asleep all night."

"All night? It doesn't stop?"

"It stops when you stop it. I suppose if you left it going long enough, it would eventually quit on its own, but I've never tried." She chuckled. "By dawn, I've heard enough chiming bells!"

"That's amazing," Carter bent closer. The tiny golden spokes had intricate carving on them. "How much do you want for it?" More than just being pretty, it was intriguing as a tiny perpetual-motion machine and she wanted to understand how it kept moving so long after just a push of a finger to start. It wasn't technically on their shopping list, but then nothing was, except for the Colonel, of course.

The shop keeper beamed. "How about a dozen of your magic rings?" Carter readily agreed, and the shopkeeper talked business as she packaged the toy, offering a better deal if they were purchased in quantity, and noting other color combinations.

~oOo~

A short while later they reappeared in the distance, with the boy still riding Jack's shoulders. Daniel suppressed a smile at the sight. This was the best part of the tedious afternoon.

Another boy approached, atop a bald man. Nedamo, presumably. The boys played soldier, swinging at each other with wooden toy swords. Daniel openly smiled at the picture. Boy, when they got home.-

~oOo~

The couple turned gratefully away from a seller whose wares were incredibly garish homemade scarves. Teal'c had thoughtfully bought his dear wife a bag full so that she would not have to decide on only one. She was peering into the sack as they stepped away, ostensibly still unable to choose which to wear at the moment, but really just amazed at the gaudy colors. Her thoughts were disrupted by a commotion ahead.

Carter started to run toward a woman viciously beating a slave. Teal'c caught her arm, allowing her to proceed but at a more decorous pace. He murmured something in her ear, but she didn't quite catch it.

"May we be of assistance?" Teal'c asked mildly, stepping close enough to the woman that his bulk made her notice him despite her anger.

The woman took a deep breath, about to retort something, then seemed to realize who they were. She took another deep breath. "You are the visitors from the mountain!" She bobbed her head.

"Yes, we are," Teal'c confirmed.

Carter knew he was trying to keep things calm and just distract the woman, but she couldn't let it go. "May I ask what he did?" She waved at the slave, who was still cowering before his mistress.

The woman glared down, and the slave cringed. The action only made her angrier. "Get away!" she hissed. "You embarrass me!" The slave scrabbled away, crouched over with his arms raised around his head. As he scurried indoors, she added, "When you were my father, you would not think of such cowardice!"

Carter was stunned. She vaguely felt Teal'c's hand on her arm, but wasn't quite sure if he had pulled on her or if she had instinctively tried to act and he was holding her back. Her father!

"That slave was your father?" Teal'c kept his calm tone, as if he were asking about the weather.

The woman lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry you had to see that, honored guests. He is a disgrace!" That sentence was louder, no doubt to ensure the man inside could hear. She sighed, seeming to deflate. "I am probably too hard on him," she admitted, "but it is just so bitter to have my father back like this. In some ways, he is like enough to his old self that it reminds me constantly of who he was. In most ways, he is so different; it despoils my memory of him." She was sad now, almost tearful as she remembered her father in younger days.

"Perhaps with time, he will one day be again what he used to," Teal'c said supportively.

The woman scoffed. "No one ever recovers from being a Mayree. They are broken too quickly and too thoroughly." She saw his expression flicker, and added, "It's for the best, really. Few are recovered, and if one is to be a slave for life, it would be needless cruelty to drag out the transformation."

"Why do you not sell him to another, so that you need not see him? Or euthanize him?"

"It is foolish, is it not?" She tried to laugh. "I feel some sort of loyalty, and I can't bring myself to sell my own father. The gods are laughing at us both, giving him long life to extend our mutual pain. Most slaves last a year or two. He has lived three years already!" She glared in the direction he had disappeared, as if he were living on just to spite her. "I have almost euthanized him. Several times. But then he looks me in the eye and I just can't do it."

She took a deep breath. "Let us talk of happier things, honored guests. It is said that you have no war in the mountains, and are never cursed with seeing a loved one who is himself and yet not himself. May that blessing continue," she made a sign with her hands, then pasted a smile on her face and turned the topic to her wares.

She said more, but Carter didn't hear it. Her thoughts were on her own father. *A loved one who is himself and yet not himself.* She knew exactly what that was like. Blending with Selmak had made Jacob Carter more flexible and understanding, and they'd had emotional father-daughter conversations that never would have happened otherwise. She appreciated that, but still sometimes she had to wonder if it was really her father talking or Selmak. If the pre-Tok'Ra Jacob Carter never would have said something, did it count as really him doing it after being blended? A heart-to-heart talk with a close friend – and there could be none closer than the Tok'Ra one was blended with – might have made him open up to his daughter. But would that also explain his new acceptance of the casualties of war? He was not cavalier about the loss of life, and never would be, but he was also far less likely to take risks to get a lone man home than he used to be, and more likely to send someone on a suicide mission if the results were valuable.

She was still musing about her father and how he, too, was himself and not himself, when Teal'c took her arm again and led her off to visit the next merchant.

~oOo~

As Daniel watched Jack with the other mayra and the boys, a third mayra appeared, carrying something on some errand or other. The boys, atop their steeds, gave chase. They ran about until the hapless Mayra was cornered. Bisa looped his belt around the man's neck and they led him toward something that looked like a large wishing well.

Poda, the boy riding Jack, took something from the well and swung it. Jack jumped, moving his rider's hand out of range of the other mayra. Poda cuffed Jack, and raised the object again. This time Jack stood still as Poda touched the other slave with the object. That one fell to the ground and covered his face – was that Zimmo, the one who whimpered all the time? Poda moved the object slowly and deliberately toward Jack's chest. Jack didn't move. The boy appeared to draw on him, then tossed the object back into the well.

The other boy, Bisa, slid off Nedamo and jumped atop Zimmo or whomever the slave on the ground was. The boys took off, apparently racing. They passed out of Daniel's view.

~oOo~

Teal'c was surprised at the practice of keeping recovered relatives as slaves; even in his extensive travels as Apophis' First Prime he had never seen that. The occasional individual, perhaps, when it was a personal matter between the master and slave. Here it was commonplace; if a slave bore a resemblance to the master, he or she was usually a relative. Not all were treated as violently as the first. There seemed to be a range of attitudes, with some at the other end of the spectrum treated almost like pets.

The city was laid out like a spider web, semi-concentric rings of buildings with roads between and also leading diagonally out from the center. After a few loops through merchant shops, they took one of the angular roads toward the outskirts. There was more space here, and sellers that needed space or had less attractive wares. Eventually, they found a slave merchant. Teal'c assumed it was the first of many, probably one of the more successful ones if it was nearest the prestigious city center.

They approached, and the slaves silently arrayed themselves as they'd no doubt been trained. The larger men stood erect, shoulders back, showing off the muscle power they had to offer. Attractive women and men posed more seductively in case the shoppers were interested in a personal servant. Others used small tools, probably intended to demonstrate skills a new owner might find useful. One played music softly. Those that had no obvious selling point lined the back wall, dressed to provide a rainbow backdrop.

A curly-haired man came forward with a wide smile. "You are our honored guests from the mountains! News travels fast, my new friends, especially when it is as wondrous as the re-emergence of the mountain city! I am Calla," he swept his hands toward himself.

"I am Teal'c, and this is my lady wife, Samantha." He copied Calla's gesture.

Calla beamed. "Please, my friends, allow me to offer you hospitality." He waved a hand with a complex twist of his fingers, and three slaves quickly approached. A beautiful woman slipped her arm around Teal'c's, leading him gently toward a stool at the front of Calla's shop, and draping herself prettily at his feet. Carter, meanwhile, was escorted by a handsome man who dropped to one knee and held a pose clearly intended to show off his physique. Another pair appeared, copper-haired instead of blonde like the first, carrying plates of refreshments. They set them on the guests' laps, and slipped sinuously down next to their counterparts. "These are but samples of the beauty I can provide for you," Calla waved at the four slaves. "I have many others as well." He smiled enticingly. "Just tell me what you like, or feel free to browse."

"Uh," Carter began, nonplussed at having two very handsome, scantily dressed men at her feet.

Teal'c wasn't about to let the chance pass. "I do have something specific in mind," he said mildly.

"Just ask, my good friend!" Calla beamed, the dollar signs all but chiming in his eyes.

"I am looking for a male slave, with silver hair."

Calla didn't miss a beat. "Of course. An excellent idea! Have you any other parameters?" His guest didn't answer immediately, and he gave his own meaning to the pause. "Do not be shy." He leaned over and squeezed Teal'c's knee. "We are all close friends here. Would you like him to be willing, or would you prefer the challenge of domination?"

"The silver-haired coloration was said to be rare," Teal'c responded, ignoring the question. "Do you have many?"

Calla jumped right on that. "The coloring is indeed rare, my companion. Everyone will know yours is a top value slave. Most dealers would be unable to fill your desire, but I," he lowered his eyes modestly, "am not most dealers." He looked up. "I have three to offer you." A slave appeared at his elbow, and he turned his attention that way. "Yina, go to my compound, and tell the quartermaster to prepare Giramo, Keppamo, and the newest mayra for display. We will show our guests not one but three silver males."

The slave ran off on his errand.

"Giramo and Keppamo will be willing bedmates for either or both of you tonight," Calla said with a smile. "The other is fresh catch, so new that he has not even earned a name yet. Sure to provide excitement if you have a taste for domination." Calla winked. "If you like his look, but do not care to break him, I would be happy to handle that service for you and deliver him in a day or two, with guaranteed total obedience."

"A day or two from fresh catch to total obedience?" Carter couldn't hide her surprise.

"Enough use of a pain stick will do that," Teal'c commented, not entirely hiding his disgust at the thought. He turned to Calla. "My lady wife has not seen slave training. Please do not take her surprise as doubt in your abilities." He had no with to make this man prove himself by trying to break O'Neill overnight.

"Of course, of course. Slave training is mainly man's work," Calla agreed. "What is this pain stick you mentioned?"

Having already let the name slip, Teal'c answered the question. "It is a device that causes great pain but not bodily injury."

Calla was impressed. "Did you bring any of those with you? I should like to see that. If it is as you say, perhaps we can trade. The slave for the stick. Training will be much faster if there is no need to stop for healing."

"I did not bring a pain stick since my mission here in your city is diplomatic," Teal'c told him. "However, if you provide a silver male that pleases me, I can have one brought immediately. You will not be disappointed."

Calla smiled with anticipation.

Teal'c politely asked what tools Calla used to train his slaves.

Calla seemed shocked at the question, then grinned conspiratorially. "Handler's methods are their best kept secrets, are they not? But let us make an exception for one another, my dear, dear friend. I shall tell all if you will, and we shall both agree never to tell another soul."

Teal'c considered. He wanted to keep this man's interest, to use him to find O'Neill. He had asked the question to learn how slaves were controlled here, the better to free his friend. But if slave traders each kept their own secrets, this one would only know the key to O'Neill's restraint if he was indeed O'Neill's current owner. He decided to balance his answer. "In my position, the slaves sent before me are already well trained."

Calla was disappointed, but not surprised.

Teal'c gave him a thin smile. No sense missing an opportunity to send a warning in case he was ever in the position to force information from Calla. "However, I do have experience in extracting information from individuals unwilling to share what they know," Calla's eyes widened. Teal'c drew on his long experience as Apophis' First Prime to offer a couple of dramatic examples. He knew that he sounded calm and matter of fact, though inside he seethed. That was not the person he was anymore, and he despised the pretense. It had the desired effect, though; Calla was enthralled, and eager to learn more. Time to clinch the deal.

"I am but an amateur at these affairs," Teal'c put his hand on his chest as he had seen others do to indicate modesty. "but in my position, I can see that one of our professionals shares his secrets with you."

Calla was practically salivating. If this visitor considered himself an amateur, even after the examples he gave, the professionals must have stunning techniques. The conversation moved politely on to other topics, but when his servant returned, Calla was the first to jump up to go. He almost skipped down the road to his compound. They were seated, on plump cushions positioned on a high dais this time, and fresh drinks were brought. Calla waved expansively, and the first slave entered.

He was muscular, and swarthy, and the metallic silver of his long wavy hair was obviously artificial. He moved with surprising grace, sinuously twining about in front of them, showing off his body before he dropped into a final pose before them.

"This is Giramo, my beloved friends," Calla told them happily. "Isn't he marvelous?"

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed politely. "However, he is not quite what I had in mind. May I see the next?"

"Of course," Calla easily hid his reaction. He was probably used to finicky customers. With a wave of his hand, a curtain parted and another man entered. "Keppamo!"

This one was very young, and slender, with pale skin. Everything about him gave the impression of vulnerability, and his entrance played up that aspect. He knelt before them in a tentative and endearing pose. His hair, too, had been painted the metallic silver, even to the eyelashes, which flashed in the light as he demurely lowered them.

Calla looked to Teal'c.

"Charming, my friend Calla, but too young for my tastes." Teal'c kept the emotion out of his voice, but allowed himself a brief daydream of using the painstick on Calla. He did not fail to notice the boy's poorly-hidden relief at not being chosen.

"Never fear! For my best friend," Calla reassured. "I have one more to offer you. No one else has as much stock as Calla!" He waved his hand and the curtains parted again.

Three men entered this time, two huge ones framing a smaller but still good sized one. This was the "fresh catch," and he fought back as he was led in and turned in a circle before his prospective buyers.

Teal'c was not fooled for a moment. The man's bruises were artfully placed to show off his muscles, and one on his left cheek gave him a rakish look. There were no harsher marks to speak of the fierce resistance one would expect of a newly captured warrior. And while he appeared to struggle with his handlers, his efforts resulted in a series of poses that showed off his physique. This was a performance, nothing more, though he did sympathize that the man suffered for his art; the bruises were real enough, and had to have been there before this afternoon to have such color. He speculated that this man usually served as a rental for pleasure, and spent many evenings being 'tamed' or 'subdued' for sport. He did not blame Calla; it made more sense to pass off a talented rental as fresh than to risk a truly fresh catch displeasing an important buyer.

He could not refuse all three out of hand. It was time to take a calculated risk. Teal'c stood and advanced to stand in front of the man, who was now being held in a kneeling position by his handlers. "I will look upon his face. If he has brown eyes, I will take him."

Calla looked uncertain now; he had probably never looked into the eyes of his slaves before and did not know if he would suit or not. "You allow mayra to look directly at you? You are too kind, my dear friend, too kind. He will be fortunate if you choose him."

The handlers pulled the man to his feet, and he resisted as elegantly as before. He ended with them holding his head, his left cheek half-turned toward Teal'c at an angle, yet another handsome pose with his chiseled features as he feigned defiance of his potential new master. His eyes were not blue, as Teal'c had expected. But they were not brown, either. They were green.

The slave gave it one more try. "You cannot master me!" he growled. His handlers promptly twisted his arms sharply behind, and for real, Teal'c could see the sinews standing out from the strain. Even in pain, he kept to the act, gasping dramatically but not breaking eye contact, showing himself off till the end.

Teal'c made no response to him, the man was a slave after all, and had already been disciplined. He returned to his seat. "He is interesting, I grant you," he told Calla, earning a smile. "I am tempted, but still I wish a slave with silver hair and brown eyes. Once I set my mind, I am determined to get what I want."

Calla's smile faltered for a moment.

"I am a businessman, Calla, and I shall make you an offer. Find me a silver male I desire, with brown eyes, and perhaps near my height," he glanced at the young slave, "and of a more mature age than that one, and I shall reward you by making you the only mayree dealer in this city with pain sticks."

Calla was delighted. "Of course, my dear, dear friend! I shall scour the city, and you shall have him! You can count on Calla!"

"I am sure, my friend," Teal'c agreed. He was, too. Sure the man would do the legwork for him, checking the other dealers for silver hair and brown eyes. And with such a reward, he was likely to buy every possible man instead of killing off the competition. "We will go now, and leave you to the search. Baron Honna is awaiting us for dinner."

"Of course, of course. I shall send Giramo to you with a message when I have others like him to offer." Giramo half-rose and bowed to indicate which one he was, showing off his muscular shoulders and back in the process. "In the meantime, may I send you one of these for tonight? Without charge, of course." Giramo and Keppamo changed poses to show off, and the third one gave a little struggle.

Teal'c considered. "I do not like to be kept waiting, Calla. If you have no new choices by tomorrow night, send this one to me," he indicated the un-named fresh catch, who pretended to object.

"Of course, dear friend! I sense that he appeals to you. Perhaps you will wish a pair of new silver slaves," Calla smiled warmly.

"Perhaps," Teal'c agreed. "For now, have a joyous day, my new friend." He inclined his head, and left with Carter.

Outside, Carter teased, "You laughed at me when I bought a *toy.*"

"Oh, he may turn out to be much more than a toy, my wife."

She glanced up at him. "You have a plan, don't you?"

He gave her a half-smile, and did not answer.

~oOo~

Daniel saw the boys running back and forth on their mounts in the distance. After a few rounds, they moved off under a tree. Daniel was pleased that Jack would get a rest break. Oddly, Jack didn't rest; he climbed the tree. Was he enjoying playing with the children? Daniel squinted as Jack dropped out of the tree with a pair of branches in hand. There was a bit of red and white on Jack's chest, visible even against the black jumpsuit. Had the kids decorated him at the wishing well? Jack handed the sticks to the boys, who were apparently not satisfied. Jack climbed the tree again, returning with more branches.

The boys remounted and the race resumed. They were soon out of sight again. When they raced back into sight, Zimmo was ahead and Jack's little rider was swinging his branch enthusiastically to show that he wanted to catch up. Jack, perhaps tired from his earlier efforts, or maybe just not as fast as the other man, kept running but did not pass.

~oOo~

"You are quiet, my wife," Teal'c commented softly as they walked back toward the center of the city, on the way to rejoin Daniel and Baron Honna.

Carter sighed. "I'm… confused, I guess. I *like* these people, and I hate them, too. They seem so nice when you talk to them. So normal. But they keep slaves, and sometimes they treat them like…" she trailed off, unable to put it into words.

"What you are feeling is common," he assured her. "No society is perfectly evil, just as none is perfectly good. I myself have felt the same conflicting feelings many times." He glanced away, remembering past times and places. Still, he should speak to the rest of her thought.

"As for slavery, it is often the way for people to ease their conscience by considering slaves less than human. That I have seen, many times. But never have I seen a people that continue to enslave their own family members."

"So you feel the same way about these people?"

He considered before answering. "I find more to dislike than to like on this planet, but I cannot say I hate everything here."

~oOo~

Daniel's smile faded as Jack passed by. He was bleeding from a myriad of scratches and welts on his left side, easily visible through the tears in his thin jumpsuit. The boy had not been pretending to hit him with that branch-whip, he had really scored the man's side.

Keyna followed his glance and called out to Poda to clean the Mayra before returning him. The boys, still riding, turned the Mayree to acknowledge. Daniel gasped as he saw the damage on both mayree. The colonel looked back at him with a hollow gaze then trotted doggedly off on command.

"He's hurt! He needs medical care!" Daniel exclaimed, trying to call the boys back.

Honna pulled him back to his seat with a hand on his arm. "Keyna told the children to clean him up, and I'm sure they will."

"He doesn't need a bath, he needs a doctor!"

"A what?"

"A, a doctor! Someone to heal him!"

All four of them looked at each other in confusion. They didn't understand what Daniel wanted, and he couldn't believe they didn't think such injuries warranted immediate help.

It was Quinna who realized the issue first. "Honored guest," she put her hand on his other arm so that she and her husband were all but holding Daniel to his seat. "the slave will be fully restored. We have healing herbs that will make it so before dinner time. You will see for yourself, I promise you." Turning slightly to her husband to explain her idea to him, she continued, "Is it possible that the mountain city no longer has the healing herbs?"

"You, you can fix *that* by dinner time?" Daniel was still staring off after Jack. He was in shock, both at the injuries and that he had been cheerfully watching as they were inflicted.

Honna's expression flickered. "Yes, friend," he confirmed. "We can fix that, and much worse, by dinner time. It seems we have found something to trade for your magical mood-sensing rings!" He smiled expansively. "Would you like to see other types of injuries healed? I would be happy to arrange whatever you wish."

*Arrange to show me how you will heal yourself when I use this siege weapon on your head,* Daniel thought bitterly. Aloud, he said, "Let's start with this one for now."

"Of course, my friend," Honna agreed smoothly. "For now, let us welcome the return of our friends Teal'c and Samantha." He turned to welcome them.

Daniel saw their suspicion at him being already on his feet and half-restrained by his hosts. He did nothing to allay their concern.

Honna had barely finished welcoming them back when Keyna's other slave, the huge one sent off with a weapon to watch over Jack's play, returned to report that he had not had to use his weapon on the other mayra.

Keyna nodded. He knew that already anyway, having just seen the mayra walk away. "Did Poda order him to fight?" There was a crafty light in Keyna's eye; he knew full well how hard it would be for young boys to resist temptation.

"Yes, Master."

Keyna could barely resist a grin. "What did the mayra do?" He had him, one way or the other. The mayra must have disobeyed either Keyna's order not to fight or the child's order to fight and therefore must have earned punishment. He needed only to know which.

"The mayra waited for his opponent to initiate an attack, then tickled him under the arms. Zimmo jerked his arms down, then tripped and fell to the ground. Zimmo wept, and did not rise."

Keyna's jaw dropped, then his mouth firmed with anger. The mayra *tickled* the other? Adult mayree did not tickle each other. Adult *anything* did not tickle each other, and he could hardly call it fighting. Why hadn't Poda matched him with Nedamo, as he'd originally suggested? Nedamo would have made some kind of attempt, even if it were flimsy, and Keyna would not have lost this opportunity.

"Mayra, describe the condition of the other mayra," Baron Honna ordered. He turned to his guests. "The better to measure the effect of the healing herbs."

Keyna may have signaled the man to obey, or perhaps he knew enough to answer the Baron at all times. "A scatter shot of salt pellets in the right flank, from shoulder to hip," he recited. "Burns from a torch on his chest. Flaying on both arms and the front of the torso. Minor cuts around the neck. That is all that I saw, Master."

All three of the guests stared.

"You will see," the Baron said cheerfully. "He will return soon, good as new."

"Can we watch the healing?" Daniel asked.

Keyna was quick to respond. "It is no doubt already underway, honored ones. See the results of this, and see another healing from start to finish." He turned to Teal'c and Carter. "The Baron has already offered to demonstrate the healing of the injuries of your choice."

They didn't want to wait; it seemed that Keyna was trying to hide something about the healing from them, but they didn't have a good reason to object.

oOo

Jack returned an hour later, clean and miraculously undamaged. He dropped tiredly to the ground beside Keyna. Easy enough now to keep his eyes downcast.

Keyna ordered him back to his feet. "Remove your clothing,Mayra."

Jack didn't hesitate. He slipped his top over his head, then fumbled just a bit over the fastening of his pants.

"This is sufficient," Teal'c pronounced. "There is no need to display the remainder of his skin."

Jack kept working on the fastener until Keyna himself told him to stop. He stood there, shirtless, eyes on the ground. Keyna told him to raise his arms and turn slowly to show his body to the visitors.

"You see?" the Baron asked. "All that you saw before is gone. Such is the power of our healing herbs."

"Of course, the salt shot is meant to cause pain more than serious injury. Would you like to see wounds from live ammunition healed?"

Jack limited his reaction to the thought of being shot just for the sake of healing. He half closed his eyes in resignation but suppressed a sigh or a shudder. There were worse things, after all.

Teal'c asked how often battles were waged with the nearby enemy city-state, as true injuries were the best examples. That re-directed the conversation to war and politics. After a while, Keyna waved Jack back to the ground next to him, but other than that he was ignored.

oOo

Carter had been observing Jack as closely as she could while schmoozing with Keyna, so the colonel's slight twitch made her look around. Work parties had been returning from the fields for at least an hour, creating a solid wall of kicked-up dust along the roadway. One man was emerging from the haze and heading in their direction. Carter watched for a moment, wondering what had caught Jack's attention. Nothing seemed different about this man, other than the fact that he was coming their way. He was kicking up a hearty share of dust on the way, and she covered her open cup to shield it.

Keyna noticed his guest's distraction, and followed her gaze. "Ah, Blenna. Coming to give a greeting and hock for a sale, no doubt."

"You don't approve of him or his wares?" Daniel asked carefully.

None of them could care less what the man would try to sell them, all that mattered was whether the sale – or lack of one – would encourage Keyna's good will.

"Oh, no, Honored Guest. Blenna is a friend. I know him well, well enough to guess his intention and have a chuckle at them. His wares, as you call them, are solid. Not top of the line, but a value for the price. You would do well to choose him as one of your trading partners. Also, I should tell you that he is the likely new owner of this mayra."

Blenna drew nearer, and the cloud of dust billowing up to his knees was explained by the appearance of half a dozen gamboling…. Somethings. They ran over to Jack, leaping and climbing all over him. In good mayra-style, Jack made no move at all, but there was the tiniest ghost of a smile on his face. Satisfied that Jack was safe and not bothered, Daniel turned his attention to the requisite introductions.

Blenna noticed the Honored Guest's glance at the mayra and the animals, and snapped a single syllable. All the animals – there were eight, not six – returned to Blenna and stood at his feet. Now still, they turned their attention to the moist red strips still lying on the ground near the Baron's feet, sniffing in that direction and licking their lips. "You see how well they are trained already?" Blenna pointed out, showing off his wares. "They come, and hold, despite temptation."

Honna chuckled and waved a hand at the tongues.

Blenna inclined his head. "You are too kind, my liege." He flicked one hand, and the animals pounced.

Carter watched as the rahi scrabbled for the strips of meat, idly wondering why anyone would have meat laying on the ground in the first place. If that were some odd way of preparing dinner, she was glad to see it go to the, well, whatever those were. Most of the beasts played tug-of-war with each other as they tried to chew opposite ends. The biggest one got a piece to himself, and turned his head away from the others, facing the guests with his prize hanging out of the front of his mouth.

Carter turned to Daniel, who was suddenly gagging beside her. The man looked positively green, and she wondered if Honna's true motive in sending her and Teal'c off had been to poison Daniel. Would he hold the antidote for ransom? Daniel waved her off, muttering that he was ok. Later, he would explain what the strips of meat really were, and how seeing the animal with a person's tongue lolling from its mouth had been just too disgusting to watch.

The animals made short work of the tongues, and Blenna called them back to him. "And notice their silence? I gave the command as we approached, and they have not disobeyed in all this time."

Carter wondered what sort of horrid noise the little beasts made, if silence was such a virtue. "I haven't seen animals like this before. What do you use them for?" Blenna and Keyna shared a brief look, and she could practically hear the cash register sound ringing in their minds.

Blenna smiled widely. "They are many things, Honored Guest. Excellent hunters, your customers will appreciate that they are made for the task. See the hide?" He knelt, pointing at the largest one but not touching it. "Hard as armor, a good defense if their prey puts up a fight." He went on to describe their eyes, ears, paws, and tails and the advantages of each for a hunting companion. "They also make good guard beasts."

When Blenna finally paused to take a breath, Daniel had to say that he was not a merchant of animals.

Not to be deterred, Blenna pointed out that they could also be eaten. "Survival of the fittest," he laughed. If the animal can't bring home dinner, he can *be* dinner. The best hunters survive and reproduce, improving the breed. "Let us try one, and you can see for yourself the succulence of the meat. And the efficiency, even the smallest of these will feed us seven." He scooped up one of the litter, clearly pleased that he had just invited himself to dinner with the first out of town guests in centuries.

Daniel took a quick glance at Jack to get some idea of whether this was a good or bad idea. To a stranger, the colonel probably looked the same as always. To an old friend, Jack was despairing, as if something important was being taken from him and he dare not object. It was a look Daniel would not soon forget.

"Mayra!" Blenna snapped.

Jack swallowed, as if steeling himself for something terrible, but otherwise did not react.

"Mayra, take this beast to the kitchens, and tell them to prepare it quickly!"

Jack still did not react.

It was Keyna's turn to chuckle. "You are not the only good trainer here, my friend. I ordered *my* beast down, and he will not respond to another until I give him leave. Mayra, take that beast from Blenna." He was grinning at Blenna, and didn't notice the guests' scowls at the use of the same term for man and animal.

Jack rose, a steely blankness on his face that spoke volumes to his friends. Jack really, really did not want to do this.

Daniel interrupted. "Wait. I think my, uh, Sam, likes the little guy." He gestured Sam toward the creature.

Carter took the cue, and the creature. It was cool to the touch and sported a layer of fetid slime, a feature that Blenna had not mentioned in his sales pitch. The little animal snuggled up against her, sliding its muzzle along her neck. She shuddered at the clammy touch. The whole effect was like being handed twenty pounds of lukewarm poop.

"Women and animals," Daniel shrugged. "No telling what they'll find cuddly."

Taking that cue as well, though it was hard to imagine how the creature could possibly be any *less* cuddly, Sam tilted her head toward it and petted its back, trying to look enamored and also keep her hair away from the scummy goo.

"Warm," a tiny voice sighed in her ear.

She stiffened. Had the animal spoken? In English? "Are… are you cold?" she asked the little beast.

"Cold. Want warm." It snuggled closer.

Jack coughed, and they all glanced at him. As he put his hand down from covering his mouth, he twisted his fingers in the sign for silence.

Ok, she couldn't ask about the talking, but now she really did want the creature, smell and slime and all. She curved her arms around it further, so that more of its cold blooded body was in contact with her warm blooded one, and was rewarded with its contented sigh. "Does she have a name?" She smiled at the men.

Blenna clapped Teal'c on the shoulder. "And so you have yourself a beast. May it be the first of many." He turned back to Carter, beaming at her. "It is a male, and as handsome a specimen of his species as you are of yours."

A tiny voice whispered in her ear. "His name is Gonzalez," Carter said, smiling wider at the intriguing animal and wishing she could tell Daniel and Teal'c it talked. She whispered something into Gonzalez' big round ear and he snuggled in her arms.

Teal'c, too, had noticed Jack's reaction. He took the opportunity now to prevent a recurrence. "My wife is enamored of the creature," he looked fondly at her for effect, then turned to Blenna. "I thank you for your generous offer, Blenna, but I prefer not to eat any of these creatures."

At once, there was a commotion among the beasts, they shrieked and milled about. The sound was horrendous, high-pitched baby screams like many fingernails on a chalkboard.

Keyna, Daniel, and Teal'c crunched up their faces and tried not to cringe. Honna and Quinna had less reason to be polite, and clapped their hands over their ears. Carter held Gonzalez defensively, turning so her body was protectively between him and his former master, and promising him no one would eat him. Blenna was beside himself, trying to control the little mob. Tarmo had been dutifully waiting in sight but out of earshot, and scurried over to help.

"Tarmo, take them away! Quickly!" Blenna pushed the beasts at his slave as fast as he could. Tarmo held five clumsily in his arms, shooing the other two with his feet, and shuffled off as best he could.

As the din subsided, Blenna apologized profusely. He did not know what had set them off.

"Isn't it obvious?" Carter asked, one hand pressed over Gonzalez' ear as if to protect it from hearing her next words. "They were afraid of being eaten! How can you even think of doing that?"

Blenna's eyes widened incredulously. "They can't understand us!" He recovered himself quickly, adding, "Though we can all see how you would like to believe that, can't we?" He looked to the others for support, getting an encouraging nod from Keyna. Continuing the effort to unite the group in his favor, he continued. "It is admirable how quickly our new friends become loyal to the pet, is it not, My Lord? Shall we talk more of this over dinner, in hopes we shall all earn each others' loyalty with equal speed?"

Jack understood what had happened, even if Blenna didn't, and it could be the reason that animals were so rare on Goa'uld controlled planets. The poor things had screamed in horror when Teal'c inadvertently told them that their trusted master had offered them as food -- Jack couldn't blame them, he would probably react the same way if Hammond casually offered to serve up one of his team – so food animals would be a non-starter on the alien planets. Carter's expression was a comical match to Gonzalez's ongoing glare at Blenna, so even if some people were ruthless enough to eat animals that could beg for their lives, others like her would defend them. Even working animals would want a say in how they were bred and used. Living with sentient, talking animals would be totally different than anything they'd experienced before.

Daniel, trying to take advantage of the potential opportunity, at first objected to allowing a person who caused such a disturbance to remain in their high company. He said he would change his mind if he were given Jack as a gift to make up for the offense. Baron Honna declared that that could not be, since the mayra was only Blenna's on a trial basis and if the sale did not go through, then Keyna would be the one paying for Blenna's offense. Instead, Blenna was ordered to give up an animal he did own – Gonzalez – for free.

Blenna offered to give Carter pointers on caring for her new pet, hoping to ingratiate himself, but Gonzalez, who a short while ago had hung calmly in Blenna's arms, now bared his fangs at the man whenever he got close.

oOo

They moved into the Baron's Great Hall. The conversation was somewhat awkward, and Daniel was glad when dinner arrived. The first course was a simple plate of fruit and cheese, served by several young women, all red headed. Jack knelt and held Keyna's plate and cup for him.

The meal dragged on, with Keyna making Jack serve him hand and foot. He seemed to be deliberately trying to belittle the man. This one, Keyna explained, had some pride that he was better rid of in order to be a good mayra. It also made for plentiful opportunities to reinforce to the novice mayra exactly who was in charge, which was a key facet of his training. If all the petty annoyances were getting to him, Jack was making a mighty effort to hide it. His face remained impassive, even as he was humiliated in front of his own people.

"Jack, would you like a drink?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, thankyou, honored guest." He figured he was safe accepting an offer from a guest, even though Keyna rarely allowed him food or drink during the day. Jack took the proffered cup and drank deeply, happy to be annoying Keyna.

At one point, Keyna noticed Daniel's thoughtful stare as Jack performed yet another embarrassing trick. "You do not use such mundane tasks to teach your mayra?" he asked.

"Um, no," Daniel replied honestly. "I think he would have killed me if I tried to make him do that."

*You got that right, Danny boy,* Jack thought. He was hanging on every word, aware that Keyna was trying to trick him into disobeying. His commands were becoming very subtle, and any minor mistake would bring down punishment. He thought again of his mistake, his one huge fatal blunder. He had been turned loose in the evenings with the other mayree. Had talked to various other inmates, trying to get ideas about a way out, guard levels, and such. Had otherwise pretty much kept to himself and been left alone.

Then he did it.

He had stopped a bully from picking on a smaller kid, even taught the little one a couple moves to defend himself. Keyna, or his people, had seen him do it. Knew then what his weakness was; innocents, the weak, children. And then they had him. Lock, stock, and barrel. Keyna promptly gave up all the other creative punishments that had so far been ineffective and switched to basic abuse. Of the kids. If Jack made the tiniest slip-up, the smallest child handy would be cruelly attacked before his eyes. He would be forced to watch, to hear the child's piteous cries, unable to stop it, unable to help. He'd pleaded for mercy – once – and had earned a second correction for speaking without permission. For the rest, he'd watched silently as the victims were told it was all his fault, that he'd carelessly disobeyed and made it happen. Keyna wouldn't heal the wounds for a day or even longer, to prolong the event and inflame the adult mayree against him. That had half back-fired, though Keyna hadn't realized it. It wasn't long before the parents switched from simple revenge beatings to drilling him on every detail of behavior at night in order to reduce the number of corrections he earned from Keyna. He never would have learned so fast without them, and he couldn't blame worried parents for correcting him with fists instead of words. They'd considered killing him, but the penalties were frighteningly dramatic for that, and the kids were being healed.

The kids.

He fingered the leash, sliding his fingers over the stones; they were set in pairs specifically to remind him of the eyes of each child that had suffered for his mistakes. When he'd tried to look away from the first attack, Keyna had demanded that he look the victim in the eye until the end, and later commemorated each event by having Jack choose a pair of eye-colored stones for the leash. He remembered every child, every set of pain-filled eyes. The first two were blue, for the eyes of the first child, the one he had saved from the bully and who had been beaten savagely as a warning to Jack to obey. He slid his hand along, remembering each child as if their eyes really were staring reproachfully out at him. The colors varied from light to dark, blue to green, as randomly as Keyna had chosen victims. There was one amber pair for the unfortunate boy who had been used for a particularly dramatic punishment just because his eyes were brown like Jack's. He came to a section with several sapphire pairs in a row, a token of his failed attempt at suicide; Keyna had deliberately selected children with matching dark blue eyes to be sure Jack's leash would provide a visual reminder that there was no escape, not even death. Or anything else – Keyna had assured him that if he, Jack, were to run away, a child would be beaten to death each day until his return. And, if anything were to befall Keyna, the other guild handlers knew his rules and would enforce them. Oh, yes, they had him this time.

His wandering thoughts were his downfall. Daniel handed him a piece of fruit and he said "thanks."

Jack stiffened, a look of absolute horror on his face.

Keyna smiled, a wide slow grin. "There will be punishment for that, Mayra."

Jack seemed to deflate, head bowed, shoulders sagging.

"I don't understand," Daniel said. "What did he do?"

"Tell him what you did, mayra," Keyna ordered; if the slave didn't know, he would not be told.

"Keyna gave me leave to answer your questions, honored guest. Not to speak on my own." Jack looked absolutely sick as he said it.

He was going to be punished just for saying 'thankyou'? Daniel realized then that the pair had been playing a twisted version of Simon Says. Jack must do exactly what Simon -- Keyna -- said. No more and no less. Or else. Or else *what*? Hoping he read his friend correctly, Daniel leaned back, casually sipping his drink, and said "I thought that transgressions in front of a guest were to be corrected in front of the guest?"

Keyna frowned. He wanted to punish the impudent mayra, needed to use each of the few slips the cunning mayra made to reinforce his training. But he could not disclose guild secrets before the outsider. Not to mention that this particular secret wouldn't win him any friends if he shared it. He'd had to go further than ever before to find something to control this one, too far most would say. He sighed. "Very well. But as a spectator sport, his punishment must be other than I had planned. Something mundane."

Jack held very still, hoping.

Keyna called a young mayra child over. Jack didn't so much as breathe as he waited to hear Keyna's command. Keyna ordered the child to bring his multi-stranded whip. The barbed one. The child paled, and ran off on his errand. "We will have to settle for a simple beating. Unless you'd prefer not to see him punished before you?" Keyna looked at Daniel hopefully. The man had been squeamish about physical punishment; Keyna had chosen something messy in hopes the guest would decline to see it and let him have his own way.

Considering Jack's reaction as well as Keyna's, Daniel opted to see the beating. At the news, Keyna sat back as if disappointed while Jack straightened and looked almost smug. Wow, Daniel thought, the alternative must be horrendous if Jack looks pleased about a cat o' nine tails.

Jack realized the fruit was still lying half-off his nerveless hand. He wanted to crush it, or throw the now-hateful thing far from him, but he dared not incur a second punishment. Keyna would not be so foolish as to gloat in front of Daniel again.

He forced his unwilling fingers to close gently around the fruit and raised it slightly. With his other hand he reached for a thimble-sized vial on the serving tray.

Keyna took the small container from him. "This fruit is bitter enough already, is it not, Mayra?"

"Yes, Keyna," he answered dully.

"What is that?" Daniel pointed to the small object, which looked like a small salt shaker to him.

"What is your former master's word for this, Mayra?"

"Strychnine, Keyna."

"But that's poison!" Daniel objected.

Keyna smiled a bit. "Small amounts merely cause cramps and muscle spasms. Painful, but not lethal."

"What do you do use it for?"

He looked disdainfully down at his unwillingly obedient slave. "The Mayra has finally learned to avoid punishment, but he still makes no attempt to please. He has not earned even the simple reward of enjoying a meal." Keyna sighed. "However, he must be fed." He sounded disappointed. "Sprinkling," he paused as he recalled the guests' word, "strick-nine on his food allows him to eat but ensures that he will have little pleasure from it. He shakes a bit on every morsel."

*Or else,* Jack finished for him in bitter silence. Put it on the food or be punished. Demonstrate sufficient muscle stiffness and spasms afterwards or be punished for using too little. Vomit and be punished for using too much. He remembered standing on wobbly legs before Keyna, struggling to keep the poison in, swallowing back his vomit while the bastard laughed.

"But it's poison!" Carter echoed in disbelief.

Keyna looked annoyed. "This amount is not enough to kill him, accidentally or otherwise. Should he ingest this entire vial, his muscles would be stiff as a board and quake with the most painful of tremors. But he will not die. See for yourself. Mayra!"

Jack looked at Keyna, and with difficulty allowed the thrown vial to smack him in the face and fall to the ground. Keyna had called for his attention, not told him to catch it. He saw Keyna's expression flicker and knew the man had been trying to trick him. On the other side, Daniel tensed; clearly afraid that Jack had just committed another transgression.

"Consume it all, Mayra."

Jack promptly picked up the vial and began vigorously shaking the contents into the palm of his hand. Maybe this would make up for speaking, he thought hopefully.

"No!"

Jack ignored Daniel's protest and shook the bottle harder. *Let this be enough to satisfy Keyna,* he silently wished.

"Stop, Mayra." Keyna turned to Daniel, not even bothering to check whether Jack obeyed. "Discipline of a mayra can be unpleasant, honored guest, especially in the early days. Would you prefer that I retired and administered his usual correction in private?"

Daniel hesitated, his gaze shifting between the anticipatory Keyna and the frozen Jack before making his decision. "I'd hate for you to waste all the strychnine, or to have to leave. Isn't there something else that can be done?"

The child returned, handing the object nervously to Keyna. The handler slapped the whip gently in his palms, watching the child's eyes widen. After a moment, he sent the child away, much to the kid's relief. The youngster sprinted away at top speed, dodging out of sight at the first opportunity.

"Stand up, Mayra."

Jack stood.

"Come before me, Mayra."

Jack did as he was bidden and stood before him, unafraid. This he could handle. It wouldn't be any fun, of course, but it was a damn sight better than the alternative.

Keyna saw the man standing calmly there and felt his own anger rising. A simple beating would not cow this one, he knew that, but he had few options in front of the baron and the outsiders. He had to force a reaction from the mayra, make him acknowledge who was master, and precious little he had tried had done so. He rose, walked slowly around his victim, sliding the whip against the man's still bare chest and back for effect. The mayra flinched not at all, further enraging the handler. He stopped in front of the mayra. Used the whip to raise Jack's chin. Jack kept his eyes lowered, not having been told to look up.

"Look at me, Mayra."

Jack looked him in the eye, still showing no fear that Keyna could see. But Keyna wanted him to be afraid. Would love to see him cry out for mercy. Had a thought on how to get his wish.

"The mayra is strong, honored guest. See how he does not fear me, even as he knows he is about to experience great pain at my hands? But a punishment should be something to be feared, should it not? So that the mayra would rather obey?"

Jack was getting concerned, and rather hoped it showed, to appease Keyna.

Keyna smiled. It wasn't a pretty sight. "Let us see if we can make our friend here take notice. Ten lashes."

Jack relaxed just a bit. That didn't sound tooo bad. All he had to do, after all, was not run away. The rest would just... happen.

"With his arms raised horizontally."

Ok, harder, but still do-able.

Keyna looked him in the eye, leaning close. "If you lower your arms so much as an inch, mayra, we will start over again. Until you obey and accept your punishment as ordered."

Jack was scared now. He didn't think he could do it. Didn't think anyone could.

Keyna chuckled. "I see we have your attention now, mayra." Perhaps this would be it, he thought hopefully, perhaps being forced to attempt the impossible over and over again would break the stubborn mayra. He anticipated the moment when the mayra would beg him in earnest, call him master, surrender completely to end the pain.

"Don't you think that's a bit extreme?" Daniel objected.

"A punishment must be something to be feared. This one has repeatedly demonstrated that he requires lessons which are somewhat ... intense." He stroked Jack with the whip. Was pleased to feel him tremble. Jackson himself shuddered to think of what kind of intense lessons his friend may have been subjected to.

"You'll kill him!"

Keyna shook his head. "The healing drugs we were discussing can be used on the Mayra. He can be kept not only alive but alert until he obeys." He noted with satisfaction that Jack had gone pale at the news- his earlier games were paying off handsomely.

"This will make a fine demonstration for our honored guests," the baron agreed happily. "You will see," he assured Daniel, leaning over and patting him on the knee, "the drug is most effective. And can be used repeatedly no matter how long this," he waved a hand dismissively at Jack, "takes."

Carter couldn't let this go on. "Why don't you do whatever your other punishment was?" Even as she said it, she saw Jack shake his head *no.*

Keyna saw, too, and laughed. "You see, honored guest? He is frightened now, but still he prefers this. You are coddling him, to allow him a choice. This is why we need not resort to beatings, since our other techniques are much more effective!" he said triumphantly.

With disbelief, Daniel wondered what on earth would rank worse than this? He said as much aloud.

Keyna smiled smugly and didn't answer.

"Jack, er, Mayra? " Daniel prompted, remembering that the man had told Jack to answer him. Besides, any time spent talking was time *not* spent beating his friend.

"Yes, honored guest?"

"What has Keyna been doing to you?"

A slight pause as he worked out an answer. "Teaching me to behave like the mayree, honored guest."

"And if you don't?"

"There is punishment, honored guest."

"Worse than this?"

"Yes, honored guest." The tone of his voice was not something the others would soon forget. Carter closed her eyes briefly. Teal'c had had enough practice with Apophis to keep any reaction from showing, but the strength with which he squeezed his pretend-wife's hand spoke of his anger. This confirmed Morgan's assertion about the level of control O'Neill was under. Perhaps it was the distraction of his thoughts, or perhaps he forgot that Daniel Jackson had not heard what he had from Calla about training methods being secret. One way or the other, he did not interrupt before Daniel spoke again.

"What could be worse?"

Jack hesitated, torn between the requirement to answer and the prohibition against telling. That was part of the "welcome lecture" all slaves received upon capture – speaking of their training to any but a handler was considered the worst sort of profanity, and was immediately punishable by any handler or civilian or soldier who heard. They kept their dirty world of slave training to themselves.

Keyna smirked, awaiting the answer.

The baron laughed. "Come, Keyna, surely one such punishment in a day is enough." He raised one hand in the gesture of a casual request.

Keyna turned toward the Baron, hands already moving into the 'X' shape that indicated a suggestion was being rejected. There would be no mercy today.

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked the Baron.

"Keyna ordered him to answer your questions, and so he must, or face further punishment. But to reveal guild secrets of discipline to outsiders is strictly forbidden and would bring down a severe penalty itself," the baron explained. He went on to tell him that guild techniques were well guarded. Handlers never even shared methods with each other, let alone with outsiders.

"Never?" Daniel asked.

It only took a split second for the thoughts to race through Jack's head. Keyna had lied – the other handlers did not know his rules! He could kill Keyna, here and now, and no kid would ever be hurt again as part of Jack's "training." If he was lucky, he'd die himself a moment later at the hands of Baron Honna's guards. If he wasn't, well, no matter what they did to him, it had to be better than watching innocent kids get hurt. SG-1 wouldn't be held responsible since they were not his "owners" at the moment. His only regret would be that he couldn't thank them for ending Keyna's unbearable torture.

"Never," the baron cheerfully confirmed.

Jack moved, and Keyna was dead before he hit the ground.

There was a moment of shock, with stunned looks on every face but Keyna's. The handler still held that last smirk.

Jack straightened, extending his arms in surrender, not intending to resist any response because it might put SG-1 at risk.

The Baron roared for his guards, unnecessarily, since they were already rushing forward from the distant sides of the big hall. Teal'c was next to respond. He pointed an arm toward the main group of guards, and unleashed his siege weapon. Carter was only a heartbeat behind, using her weapon to take out the guards approaching from the other side. Daniel, having never seen a bare-handed instant-kill like that, let alone one executed by his friend, was still only a moment behind in raising his weapon.

Seeing that the fight was on, Jack leapt forward, capturing the Baron's neck in the crook of one strong arm and warning Blenna and Quinna that they had already seen him kill and he could easily do it again.

Blenna froze, hands held out in front of him where they were visible.

Quinna straightened, trying to retain her leadership demeanor. "What do you want?"

"Safe passage. We're leaving."

She blinked, as if surprised by the minimal request. "Very well." She moved to the door, picking her way around rubble and former parts of her guards, and Jack waved Blenna along in front before tugging Honna forward.

The door burst open before they reached it, and several people spilled in, no doubt coming as a result of the weapon blasts. Jack repeated his warning, supported by Quinna's orders and Keyna's corpse, and they all backed away against the walls.

The little group – SG-1, Honna, Quinna, and Blenna – edged through, and started down the hall, closing the door on the others.

"Gonzalez, tell us if anyone follows or comes near without being seen."

"Sure!" the excited little voice answered.

Teal'c and Daniel exchanged a look, not sure they'd heard right. Carter grinned and nodded. Gonzalez proudly put his head up to sniff, ears swiveling like tiny radar. Blenna, who'd been rolling his eyes at the ridiculous idea of giving such a command, eyed the animal dubiously when it seemed to respond.

They moved to the outer door without incident. Quinna led the way to the steps, kicking a mayra child and cleaning bucket off of them without so much as a glance.

Jack paused, looking as the girl stifled a sob and blotted her heavily bleeding nose. She didn't dare to look up or object. How well he knew that feeling! How well all the mayree knew it!

On the other side of Honna, unable to see the child, Daniel's hand gave his elbow a tug.

"I don't think I can do this."

Everyone stared. Except the child, who crouched, head down, hoping for them all to go away.

Quinna's expression turned triumphant, as if it were a credit to their slave training that the mayree wouldn't go through with his escape.

"I don't think I can leave the mayree like this."

The End.