Unas, Dos, Tres
by Pho
Ohhh, my head hurts - what the heck did I drink? And how long have I been out? Wonder if I'm late for anything? Ow! Probably, and that means Jack's gonna yell. He always yells when I'm late. Ouch! There're rocks in my bed, and the darn things feel like they're moving. What is that *smell*? A combination of burnt shoe leather and rancid aftershave. Can aftershave go bad? Crap! I've never felt this rotten before. If I open my eyes, I wonder if they'll explode?
Oh boy. Okay, so I *am* moving, but the good news is that my eyes didn't explode. The bad news is that I'm not in bed. Actually, I'm not in my apartment. Where the heck am I? Why am I upside down? Why can't I use my hands? Oh my God. P3X-888. Loder. The...the thing in the trees. I'm sure Loder's dead and I'm...oh shit. That's why the up close and personal view of leathery hide...skin. And is he ever making tracks into the woods. Terrific. I don't think SG-11 can run this fast. Hope they can catch up. Soon.
One. Two. Three. Un. Deux. Trois. Ein. Zwei. Drei. Uno. Dos. Tres. I could keep going, but what's the point. It doesn't matter what language I count in, I've had three - count 'em - three up close and personal dealings with an Unas and that's three too many. Okay, to be fair, the first encounter was nothing special. Jack and Teal'c did all the hard stuff, but I *saw* him...it...whatever, that's got to count for something. A really large, ugly, smelly, very dead Unas. Okay, well, dead doesn't apply here and I guess, compared to the others, 'large' doesn't cut it either, but smelly definitely and from where I'm hanging, ugly also works. And even though I can't see... much of it, I'm sure it's an Unas. Whoa! All this swaying is making me dizzy. Maybe opening my eyes wasn't such a good idea. Odd, right now passing out sounds...
What the... Ouch! Well, so much for sleeping in. The ground is much harder than it looked and I guess he knows I'm awake. Raring for a good look at... Yep. It's an Unas, all right. Gee. Dr. J. your powers of observation are really getting good. And lookit - there's a leather rope around your wrists. Special. Bet if I look up - oh, yeah, the Unas is holding the other end.
An Unas. Of course, better an Unas than several Unases. Unai. Wonder if Unas is both singular and plural? Like moose. Could be, but... God, Daniel, *what* are you doing? Nothing, just hanging around - don't be stupid, Jackson. Take stock of what you know. Big scaly creature, with very bad breath, really long claws, holding a leather rope. Oh. He's glaring at me. Wonder if... Ouch! Yes, thank you, I can stand up, and walk. Walk, dammit! Not run. Okay, run works for me.
Least it's leather, not chains. Those were really heavy, but at least that Unas - number two, if anyone's counting - hooked me to Mary not... Uh oh. Goa'uld? Could he be a Goa'uld? I haven't seen any glowing eyes, but the demon from P9X-3971 was a Goa'uld with an Unas host. Don't think this one is though, the clothing and jewelry are too primitive. Let's assume there's no Goa'uld here, Daniel. Yes, I do know that the first three letters of assume have another meaning, but...
Ouch! Not so hard, I'm moving as fast as I can. Well, fast could be stretching it just a bit, but *he* doesn't have to know that. He's probably never run into, er, over, a human before. Come to think of it, both of *my* prior meetings with an Unas involved a Goa'uld. No wonder they were bad tempered. Maybe an Unas without a host is a pleasant, peace-loving, friendly... OUCH, dammit, not so rough. Okay, maybe not friendly, and they, urgh, *really* don't need a symbionte to be strong. Yes, thank you, I love to travel at rapid rates of speed, on a leash. Hey, guys, a rescue any time would be much appreciated by your borrowed archaeologist.
Jack is *not* going to be happy with SG-11, but I'm sure he'll forgive them when I explain. If I get the chance to explain. If Mr. Tall, Dark and Smelly doesn't do something that I just know I won't like. I am *so* tired, wonder how long it's been since... not your fault, Daniel. There was nothing you could have done. Loder was the one with the gun, even got off a few shots, but it happened so quickly. Where is that search party? SG-11 should be close now, I hope, I mean, the Unas doesn't move that fast, at least with me in tow. Faster than I'd like, though. Wonder if Jack knows yet?
I should do something, but what? What would Jack do? Oh, yeah, how stupid. Think escape plan here. I'm not as resourceful as Jack. Oh, I'll grant you, I know more about... stuff, than he does, but he's much more prepared for things like escape plans. Hell, by now, he'd probably have turned the Unas into a belt and a pair of shoes. Think, Daniel, think. You need to slow the pace so that SG-11, and Jack - or should I say SG-1, I can just see them leaving Sam or Teal'c at home - can catch up. So I can get rescued, and go home. I'm *really* tired of this dig - never thought I'd admit it, but Rothman can keep his Cleopatra or whatever he called the fossil. Give me buildings every time and a room with a view. Gotta do something. He's moving so fast that... oh! Rest. Relax. Keep it simple, stupid. No elaborate escape plans here, if you're lucky, maybe you can communicate with it.
"Okay, I know it seems completely unlikely that you understand a word I'm saying, but I've gone about as far as I can go at this particular pace, so with your permission, I'm going to fall down now." OOOPH! Ground's still hard, but it feels so good to stop, to rest, maybe... But for now... "Rest. This is a thing you should become familiar with. Rest. It means, uh, rest."
Oh, my, that was a nasty noise he just made. I find myself sighing as I reply, and much to my chagrin, I can't help the Jack-reply that comes out. "That's close. Try again. Grr-rest." Oh what wicked teeth you have.
What's this? My radio's still in my pocket. Maybe, I can get it out without upsetting him. Oops, he's watching. Now what? Slow and easy, Daniel. "This, this is nothing you need to be worried about. This is a radio. It's so my friends can find me and, uh, shoot you."
Another nasty growl, but he doesn't do anything. Maybe if I get up slowly. Great! The radio's still working. "This is Daniel Jackson, if anyone can hear me."
OUCH! Not so rough. Dammit, if I wanted to lie down, I would. Guess I don't use the radio again. Guys, finding me would be a really, really good idea.
******
Well, *that* was disgusting. Bad enough that my clothes, boots, everything is soaked and filled with grit, but now I've got Goa'uld guts on my face. Of course, hindsight being what it is, better dead Goa'uld guts on the outside, than a live Goa'uld on the inside. I find I'm shivering now with cold and reaction. I've been on this accursed planet for three weeks, and we never knew there were live Goa'uld in the water. Talk about blind luck. Now if someone, anyone, would just catch up - guys, I think I've stalled as long as I can.
Yep. Another sharp tug, and we're off! Damn that hurt, rope's getting tight - another brilliant observation, Doctor J., leather does that when it dries. Slow down, Chaka, it's not the Kentucky Derby. Or is it? A crazy image of other Unas' prisoners trotting along behind their captors toward a common finish line plants itself firmly in my brain. Now I *know* I've been awake too long, but it doesn't look like it's time for beddy-bye just yet. At least he's listening to me, I think. Uh, oh. I've been talking, but I don't have a clue what I've said. Not that it matters, he doesn't speak frantic Tau'ri any better than I speak ... Unish? Get a grip, Daniel.
Crap! There's a cave ahead. I have the urge to shout 'Lucy, I'm home', but that's really more Jack's style. Speaking of Jack, I wonder where SG-1 is? I know they're trailing me, but I wonder how far behind they are? SG-11 hasn't even caught up yet - oh - they don't have a tracker like Teal'c. Whooof! Ouch. Thank you, but I really could have sat down on my own - no need to push. Hmmmm? Oh, yes, I'll stay right here while you go - no, don't put that rock, okay, that rock looks fine sitting on the other end of the rope. I wouldn't have run away. Well, that's not quite true, but I don't know how to get out of here, dammit.
Oh, you're back, and making a fire. How thoughtful, but it's not that cold. Right, Daniel, you're only shivering because you're still a little damp. Well, Chaka certainly seems to have fire starting down. And look, he's cooking din... Oh, yuck. Roasted symbionte for dinner. Maybe he doesn't want to share?
"This your cave? ... Your cave? ... It's nice." Oh, God. He's sharing. Shit. Keep talking, Daniel. Doesn't matter what you say as long as you keep that thing out of your mouth. Just toss it back to him, nice and ... Fine. He wants to play catch. Ooops, dropped it in the fire. Maybe he won't mind? I feel myself sighing with relief when he doesn't hit me. Maybe he'd like a chocolate bar?
Chaka's still enjoying the chocolate aftertaste and I really need to stretch my legs. I find myself watching him closely as I slowly stand up. That's good, no retaliation. We may have a future yet. Oh, wow, look at all the cave drawings. Thank God there's still room on the tape recorder. I can feel myself sinking into that state Jack calls auto-archaeologist, but I really can't help it - this is absolutely fascinating. How did they get such detail... ARGH!
That really hurt, hope he washed his hands before dinner. There's no telling where those claws have been. Hey, don't shove. I'm still trying to swallow my heart when I realize he's finished drawing on the wall. Crap. "I think I've just been marked for death." Jack? Sam? Teal'c? *Now* would be a good time to get here. Oh, goody, we're on the road again.
I cannot believe this. He was *asleep*, Daniel. Totally off guard. A perfect opportunity to kill the-creature-that-came-to-dinner-and-wanted-you-for-his-main-course and not only do you not bash his skull in, you take a thorn out of his paw. Claw. Whatever. Either way, Jack's gonna be really pissed. He's worked so hard to get my self-preservation instincts to kick in and I think I just climbed into the pot and turned the knob to simmer. I'm beginning to understand how a lobster feels.
Teal'c's a terrific tracker. Teal'c's a terrific tracker. Say it enough times, Daniel and you won't worry so much. But it's dark in here, so, maybe I better put some marks on the walls, wouldn't want them to lose the trail. What? Oh, nothing, Chaka, I'm doing nothing at all. Just adding a Tau'ri touch - wouldn't want the gang to mistake a direction. Yes! I got the point on the arrow just in time, and there's another jut-out. Ha! He didn't see me this time. Well, gang, I'm doing the best I can, leaving clues and all. It's up to you guys to find me.
Crap, this is so not good. Lotsa fires. Already lit. Just how many of me did they think he was bringing home. Sheez. Maybe I can still get him to let me go. Yeahsureyabetcha. "Look, you know we've got the beginnings of a beautiful friendship here, but I'm not sure your folks are gonna understand."
Oh look. The gang's all here. Chaka's gang. My gang. SG-1, that is. There's all sorts of ... growling going on, and gee, Jack, it looks like you're right - I do run on auto pilot sometimes, but I really, really think I just asked the really large Unas not to kill me.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Roars! Weapons fire! Screams! And lookit, my traveling buddy's just become the alpha male. *This* should prove interesting for Unas tribal dynamics. I'm almost reluctant to say no to his obvious request to go with him. That last... sound, is so, almost pleading. Apparently Jack thinks so too because he's moved to stand beside me. Ya know, gang, not to appear ungrateful or anything but finding me a little earlier in the trip would have been nice.
"What'd that mean?" Jack's looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to translate a growl. Thanks for the vote of confidence, old friend.
"I have no idea." That's not entirely true. I know he wanted me to go with him. I just wish I knew why.
"But I think I've just been invited to come back one day and find out." Even as the words leave my lips, I know the answer is 'no'. Actually, from the look on Jack's face, I'm thinking 'hell no' is more like it. The thought crosses my mind that I might be in a position to win the argument, if I felt like debating the issue that is. Which I don't. I'm just too darn tired. More tired than I've been in quite some time. It's been a long, what fourteen, sixteen hours? Maybe more. From the look on Jack's face, I'm guessing a whole lot more. "How long?"
"What?" Obviously not the question Jack was expecting.
"How long since Loder..." *Not* a good memory, Daniel. Let's try this again. "...since I was grabbed."
"Twenty-eight hours, Daniel." Sam's voice sounds as tired as I feel.
"But..." I barely get the protest started when Jack shushes me.
"Not now, Daniel. Let's get out of this cave. Then..." He nods at the rope still restraining my wrists. "...we'll see what kind of damage you've got there."
I feel myself propelled back down the tunnel and wonder just when he took such a firm grip on my arm. It's almost painfully tight, but the protest dies in my throat as I get a really good look at his face. He's in full combat mode and even more unreadable than normal. Translation - something has gone horribly wrong. I dare a quick, backwards glance at Sam, and see the same thing. Whatever's happened has thrown both of the military members of my team into an 'I am not letting this interfere with the mission' mode. *Not* a good sign.
"It is good to find you well, Daniel Jackson."
Oh oh. Teal'c actually *sounds* relieved. I wish I could see his face, but this cave is so darned dark. And long. I don't remember it taking this long to get to the, uh, Unas' dining room. I feel myself shudder at the thought; thank God Chaka wanted to learn more than he wanted to eat. I drag myself back from the memories. "Thanks, Teal'c, I'm kinda glad about it myself. Are we going the right way?"
"Oh, for crying out loud, yes, Daniel, we are going the right way. Of course, any way that leads away from your reptilian friends could probably count as the right way."
"Actually, Jack, I'm not certain about the reptilian part. I have a feeling they're warm-blooded or the Goa'uld wouldn't be able to take them as hosts."
"Sweet."
Jack looks decidedly uncomfortable, even in the poor light of the cave. "Uh, Jack?"
"Outside, Daniel. It's not much farther."
How does he do it? No sooner are the words out of his mouth, than the cave entrance looms ominously in front of us. Ominously? Where the hell did that come from? The danger's behind us, right? The Unas family disappeared deep underground, didn't they?
The sun completely dominates the sky when we finally get outside, and I can't help but wince as the light hits my eyes. "Ouch."
"You all right, Daniel?"
Jack's voice is calm, but his hand on my arm is vibrating with tension.
"Peachy. It's just bright out here, that's all." I barely have time to blink my eyes into submission when I'm hurried back down the rocky path I got here on in the first place. Guess it's true that there's no rest for the weary, but couldn't we stop for a minute?
"SOP, Daniel, we've got to get away from the cave entrance. Don't want any of your little ... friend's friends showing up."
How does he do that? I swear I didn't say that out loud. Crap, the least he could do is cut the ropes off my wrists. When did we stop? I must be more tired than I thought.
Jack nods slowly even as he scans the area around us for danger. "Teal'c, Carter, keep your eyes open. Daniel, sit - on the rock over there." He nods in the direction of a medium size boulder, in the middle of a clearing that I don't remember seeing before. "I want to get a better look at your wrists."
He's not gonna get any arguments from me on that score. This damn rope has been the scourge of my existence for too long, and I'll be really glad to... why is he frowning like that? "Uh, Jack?"
"Hate to break it to you, but the bindings need to stay." He raises a hand to halt the protest that I can feel building in my throat. "Sorry, Daniel, but the rope's embedded itself into your wrists. I'm afraid Doc Fraiser's gonna have to do this one. I can cut your wrists apart, though."
Without another word, he quickly slits the rope in two and I find myself cringing as the motion cuts into my wrists. There's not much blood - that's a good thing I think, but the damn thing's under my skin, just like Jack said. Ick. That looks nastier than I hope it is. Belatedly, I realize Jack's still talking. "Uh, what?"
"Try to stay with me, Daniel."
Well, duh, Jack, I'd love to oblige you, but it's been a real long time since I had a conversation with someone who didn't roar at me. Oh my, I'm having an image. Jack. Chaka. Jack. The similarities are ... interesting, and I'm suddenly glad we're well removed from the cave.
Ooops. Why am I sitting on the ground with Jack's face just inches from my own? What's he saying?
"...sy, Daniel. Wait for the world to stop spinning before you try that again."
Thank you very much, Jack, I think that's excellent advice. Mind if I sit here all day?
"But don't plan on staying here all day."
Okay, maybe that wasn't a good plan.
"Daniel, have you eaten anything?"
What is this - let's get up close and personal with Dr. J day? - Sam's in my face now. "Daniel?"
"Roasted Goa'uld." God, I didn't actually say that out loud, did I?
"What?"
Ouch, SG-1 in not-so-perfect harmony as three voices practically deafen me. Okay, maybe I did say that. "Uh, that's what Chaka had. I had a chocolate bar."
"Sweet." Jack's not even aware of the pun. "Carter, break out an MRE. Try for one that tastes like chicken."
They all taste like chicken, Jack, even this one - how did she do that so fast? My mind takes a short break while my mouth works overtime - I've always liked chicken. As I choke down the dessert and force down some water, I finally realize that we're alone. No SG-11. How...oh, my God! "They're all dead, aren't they?"
Jack hesitates for a moment, then nods reluctantly. "Yes."
"Even...even Robert?"
The nod is even slower in coming this time and he doesn't want to meet my eyes. This is the bad stuff he was hiding in the cave. "How?"
"How, what, Daniel?"
Don't be obtuse, Jack. "How'd it happen?" Somehow I can't even say Robert's name out loud.
I'm startled to hear Teal'c's regret filled voice saying, "Robert Rothman was taken over by a primitive Goa'uld, who succeeded in taking my staff weapon. O'Neill was forced to shoot him to save our lives."
Robert? Got Teal'c's staff? That doesn't seem... oh, wait. Even a primitive Goa'uld gives its host - Jesus, Robert - superior strength. No wonder Jack's looking like he just kicked a puppy. "Jack?"
His eyes are filled with apology as he acknowledges the truth of Teal'c's assertion. "That's how it went down, Daniel."
I find myself nodding an acceptance of the situation - true understanding will have to wait until I'm not so damned tired. I need to get some distance from this, this tragedy to really get a handle on it. Dealing later, much later, sounds like a good thing. "Can we go home now?" Was that my voice? It sounded so strained, so distant.
A strong hand squeezes my shoulder, and I look up to see Jack nodding. "Sure thing. Okay, kids, let's blow this Popsicle stand."
As I push myself to my feet, I can feel my friends surrounding me - Sam takes point after a quick glance my way. Teal'c watches our six, and I can feel his eyes boring into my back, while Jack, well, he's still got hold of my arm, and his grip's only slightly more relaxed now than it was in the cave. Looks like we'll all be fighting demons for quite some time to come. I'm just glad we can do it together.
*fin*