The Triumvirs filed to one side of the table, directing the visitors to the other. Positioned there by Daniel, Nyan took the lead around the end of the table, and stood behind the chair furthest from the doorway. Daniel followed, glancing to his right when he reached his chair to find that Mitchell had sent Vala and Grogan after him. Mirroring their procession, the Triumvirs moved around the opposite side. Seeing that their guests had more people than seats on their side, Obert gestured Mitchell to the chair next to his. At Parey’s signal, Obert and Elgar pulled out their chairs, Daniel and his friends following suit.

“Okay,” Mitchell began, even before everyone was seated, “we left several pallets of food and water on our side of the gate. General Landry is just waiting for the request to send them through.”

“Yes, please,” Elgar said. “The markets in Bast and Horus sectors were destroyed by fire. While the citizens can easily travel to other quadrants for their foodstuffs, I’m sure they would appreciate having…”

Daniel glanced at Elgar when the narrative dropped off. The minister frowned at something over his left shoulder, and Daniel turned to look. Mallin hovered in the small doorway in the corner.

“Parey,” Elgar sniffed, “your aide is trying to get your attention.”

Parey stood and motioned the woman forward.

Daniel had only had brief glimpses of Mallin on his first visit to Bedrosia, but he remembered thinking the overalls she wore did not suit her delicate features. Much more appropriate was the flowing, multi-toned grey gown currently adorning her thin frame. Buttoned to her neckline, the sleeveless bodice flowed smoothly over her small breasts and waistline. The skirt fell away from her hips and swept around her calves in billowing layers of gauzy softness.

Daniel smiled sadly. He would much rather have seen this dress on Mallin when he’d first encountered her with Nyan nine years ago, before events, more than time, had robbed her of her youth. He startled out of his reverie when Nyan leapt to his feet. Daniel rose automatically.

“Mallin?” the younger man called quietly, as though afraid she might turn and flee if he were too demonstrative.

Mallin’s hurried gait faltered and she paused just long enough to dart a gaze at him. Resuming her mission, she pulled up next to Parey. “Commander Alkar needs your approval on the watch schedule.” She handed over a small device which Daniel guessed to be a digital day planner. “He came to your office –”

“For our weekly meeting, of course,” Parey sighed in irritation. “I meant to have you reschedule him.” She glanced around the table. “Excuse me, please. This will only take a moment.” Without waiting for their approval, she turned and retreated to a spot by the windows.

Casting apologetic glances at the remaining Triumvirs, Mallin appeared to be purposefully ignoring their off-world guests. However, despite the slightly hunched shoulders which deterred interaction, Daniel noted that Mallin occasionally sent furtive looks at them across her shoulder.  

Suddenly cognizant of the awkward silence that followed Parey’s departure, Daniel searched his memory for a safe topic to fill the time. A moment later, he abandoned the hunt, content to let Vala’s commentary on the magnificence of Elgar’s crested ring do the job. Silently thankful that she was putting her usually inappropriate interest in valuables to good use, he kept an ear open, ready to sidetrack the discussion if it veered too close to an investigation of the minister’s net worth.

Returning his attention to the end of the table, Daniel peered at Nyan from the corner of his eye. If his posture was any indication, he’d noted Mallin’s covert interest as well. Nyan poised, leaning forward slightly, seemingly ready to pounce on Mallin at the first sign she’d welcome his advance.

Mallin shuffled back a pace, turning to face them. Nyan hesitantly reached for her, but dropped his hand to his side when Mallin frowned.

“Talk to her,” Daniel prompted under his breath. Nyan turned large eyes on him, and Daniel extended an encouraging nod.

Responding with a firm nod of his own, Nyan moved slowly forward. “Mallin,” he began softly, approaching her as a cowboy would a skittish colt. “I know you don’t remember me.”

Daniel’s breath caught at the unexpected words, though given Nyan’s distress in the gateroom the day before, he should not have been surprised. Obviously, his friend had a very good idea of what Mallin had suffered after they’d gone back to Earth. 

Nyan continued to close the short distance between himself and Mallin, his steps small, his voice even. “But it’s okay. You know my name. It’s Nyan. We used to be good friends. That was a long time ago, though, so I understand why you don’t recognize me. We’ve both changed quite a bit.”

Mallin stiffened as he neared, watching him anxiously.

“I just want to talk,” Nyan continued conversationally. “You know, I’ve thought about you from time to time.”

He was close enough to touch her, though he hadn’t made any move to do so, when Mallin spooked. Twisting away from him, she sidestepped and started towards the door through which she’d entered.

“Mallin, wait. Please, don’t go.” Nyan threw up an arm, wrapping it around her waist.

Mallin drew into herself, arms crossed defensively over her chest, her boney hands hooking over her shoulders.

Though Daniel knew his friend’s only motive was to keep Mallin from leaving before they’d had a chance to reconnect, he feared the others might misinterpret the restraint as an attack. Quickly skirting the end of the table, he closed the distance between himself and the pair in several long strides.

“Nyan, let her go,” he urged, his voice low and edgy. He reached for Nyan’s shoulder, hoping physical force wouldn’t be necessary to loosen the hold. At the same time, Mallin glanced in his direction and her panicked features transitioned instantly to anger. “No! Get away!” she screeched.

The shriek caused Nyan to flinch and she was able to break away. Pushing against Nyan, she sent him into Daniel and both men stumbled back. Righting himself quickly, Daniel grabbed at Nyan, succeeding only in snagging the younger man’s jacket and easing his descent to the floor. He extended a hand to help Nyan to his feet, an offer his friend waved off, and Daniel turned to Mallin.

Eyes blazing hatred, Mallin glared back. “How dare you!” she spluttered. “Don’t you ever, ever touch me!”

“Mallin,” Parey called from across the room and the young woman quieted instantly.

“Jackson?” Mitchell’s query registered just under Parey’s shout.

Mallin’s posture relaxed, but she continued to send visual daggers in Daniel’s direction. The contemptuous glower bled away as Parey stepped up behind her.

“Take this,” the marshal ordered, thrusting the scheduling device into Mallin’s hand. “Tell Alkar to come back after midday meal.”

Eyes still locked with Daniel’s, Mallin obediently cradled the device against her, but it took a hand in the small of her back and a stern “Go,” from Parey to send her from the room.

Daniel resisted the urge to watch after her, instead holding Parey’s cool regard. A confident smile tipped her lips, but Daniel sensed the marshal’s blasé attitude was really a veiled attempt to convince him that what they had just witnessed was perfectly normal.

His mind fixed on the impression that Parey was employing a regular cloak-and-dagger policy in her dealings with them, Daniel dimly registered Nyan rising to his left as Vala and Mitchell appeared on his right.

“What the hell just happened?” Mitchell demanded.

Dragging his attention away from Parey, Daniel glanced sideways, surprised to find Mitchell was addressing him.

“It’s my fault, Colonel,” Parey cut in. “Why don’t we sit down, and I’ll explain.”

Mitchell turned and gestured them towards the council table. Daniel had started after his former teammates when he noticed Nyan was not with them. He turned to find the younger man rooted to his spot, head hanging like a daisy in desperate need of some water.

Returning to Nyan’s side, Daniel asked softly, “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine.” Nyan put on a smile that was anything but convincing. “I’m glad she’s alive. I had worried that Rigar had just had her killed.”

Taken aback by the confession, Daniel recovered quickly. “Come on. Let’s go sit down,” he invited, ushering Nyan ahead of him.

Once they were all seated, Parey began to speak, her tone soft, almost apologetic. “I knew that Mallin was anxious having you here. I should have ordered her to stay home today. I had planned to avoid the offices. It didn’t occur to me that Mallin might have reason to seek me out.”

Unmoved by her earlier defensive gesture on his behalf, and wholly skeptical of the contrite manner she’d affected, Daniel decided on a tactic from the Jack O’Neill book of bullshit management.

“Why doesn’t she remember Nyan?” he asked directly.

Parey sent him a withering glare. She backed off the dark look as her eyes tracked to Nyan, though the tension never fully left her jaw. “As you no doubt suspect,” she said to her former charge, “Mallin’s memories have been rearranged.”

“Rearranged?” Vala challenged.

Taking their assorted expressions of disapproval in her stride, Parey heaved an annoyed sigh. “We had no choice. Mallin was present when the Gateway was discovered –”

“So, you messed with her brain,” Mitchell concluded disapprovingly. “Rearranging information as you saw fit.”

Daniel cast him a sidelong glance. He knew Mitchell’s censorious tone was a product of his own experience on Galar, where his memories had been altered to make him believe he had committed murder.

“We did not remove her intelligence,” Parey countered calmly.

“No, just her identity,” Mitchell returned hotly.

Shoving back in her chair, Parey glared impatiently. “No, not completely; we only took those parts connected with their discovery of the Gateway. That information could not be made public. It undermined all our basic beliefs.”

Her narrowed eyes landed on Nyan, and Daniel instinctively shifted closer to his friend. “You knew the risks when you started this,” she ground out, voice thick with insinuation. “As did Mallin.”

Unsettled by the veiled accusation, Daniel turned his attention to Nyan, discouraged to see the younger man’s face flush pink.

“It was a harsh punishment,” Parey conceded grudgingly, “but it was imperative that Mallin not remember finding the Gateway... or her attachment to you.” Genuine regret passed briefly over her features. “I am sorry, Nyan. Your best friend is gone. Mallin only knew to ask for you because I told her to.”

“She seems to remember Daniel well enough,” Vala observed. “That bit of venom she spat was directed at him.”

“Mallin’s reaction to Doctor Jackson is more a product of my negative influence,” Parey replied. “Purely unintentional, I assure you. She overheard something I told the other Triumvirs when we were discussing options for dealing with the riots.”

Mitchell’s brows raised in alarm. “What on earth did you say?”

“The truth… to a point.”

Unable to stop himself, Daniel laughed a derisive snort. “To a point. Can’t you even be straight with your own people?”

Parey bridled at the remark. “Mallin believes her memory loss is due to an accident that occurred while she was at a training site with me,” she expounded, her tone even in spite of her obvious frustration with their questions. “We used the explosion that Rigar set off to explain Mallin’s memory loss, telling her family that her injuries were so severe that her former life was unrecoverable. We kept her in a military facility, and declined her family’s requests to visit until such time as she would have recovered from any physical injuries from the blast.”

“If there had been any physical injury,” Vala smirked.

“Oh, she had injuries,” Parey assured them. “Just not from an explosion. As I said, Rigar could be very persuasive.

“When she was released, her family was told never to mention Nyan, her previous occupation, or the trauma that caused her injury, as to do so would cause irreparable harm. It was suggested that they should instead refer to her place as my assistant, a position she took up when she recovered.”

At the opposite end of the table, Mitchell waved like he was trying to attract a waiter’s attention. “This still doesn’t explain why she’s so hostile towards Jackson.”

Frowning at the gesture, Parey turned to Daniel. “Mallin heard me telling Elgar and Obert about your visit all those years ago.”

“She found out you had lied to her,” Daniel deduced.

Parey eyed him with a mixture of enmity and surrender. “When she confronted me, I saw little point in denying it. But I couldn’t tell her the whole truth.” She opened her mouth as if to say more, then shut it and sat back with a sigh. “In the end, I merely confirmed her conclusion that your arrival precipitated the events that led to the explosion that she believes caused her memory loss.”

Daniel tendered a knowing smile. “And she just assumes it was our fault.”

“I should have disavowed her of the notion, I know.”

Suddenly, Daniel saw himself in Parey’s place. There was no reason she could have guessed that they would some day return to her world. She interacted with Mallin on a daily basis, and though she was often gruff, it was obvious that she cared about the younger woman to some extent. He and his team were only here for a short time and, once they were gone, Mallin would likely never see them again.

Daniel sighed inwardly. Sometimes he really hated his inherent sense of fair play.

“No. It’s okay,” he said on impulse. “It would have been difficult to explain. I don’t mind being your scapegoat… at least, not in this instance.”

“Well I mind,” Vala protested, sharing her irate glare equally between Parey and Daniel. “I mind very much. There’s no reason you should have to bear that young woman’s ill-will just because they’re content to let her dwell in half-truths.”

“Yeah, I gotta side with Vala on this one,” Mitchell chimed in. “Playing with someone’s memories is a dangerous game.”

Daniel slipped off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He understood this was personal for Vala and Mitchell; they’d both had horrifying experiences with memory rearrangement. Come to that, he’d had one or two mind fucks of his own over the years, but, in the end, this wasn’t about any of them. Telling Mallin the whole truth wouldn’t bring back what had been taken from her and would likely only cause her more pain.

With an apologetic glance at Nyan, who sat mutely taking it all in, he returned his glasses to their resting place and leveled his friends with an even gaze. “Look, I understand where you two are coming from, but what difference does it make what Mallin believes about how she lost her memory? Ultimately, it was our trip through the Stargate that was the catalyst.”

Parey nodded agreement. “Telling Mallin everything will only undermine the trust we’ve developed. And what about her family? They’ve lied to her as well.”

“At your direction.” Vala hardened her features, prepared for another round.

“Vala.” Eyes widened, Daniel gave her a small glare, which Vala half-heartedly returned. “We’re just going to have to trust that Mallin’s people know what is best for her.” He turned his back on Vala and Mitchell, signaling, he hoped, that discussion on this topic was over. “I’ll try and stay out of Mallin’s way,” he said to Parey.

“That might be best,” she agreed.

Obert cleared his throat. “These supplies you have offered, we can get them right away?”

Mitchell cut a less-than-happy glance at Daniel, before leaning in to respond to the magistrate. “Yeah. General Landry is just waiting for our request to send them through.”

As though abruptly waking from an unexpected doze, Nyan surged upright in his seat, startling them all. “Before we get too far,” he blurted, “I’d still like an answer regarding my request to find my sister.” His eyes hardening to a degree Daniel had never seen before, Nyan narrowed them at Parey. “You owe me that,” he contended.

“I owe you nothing,” Parey said through her teeth. “However, I see no reason why you should not be allowed to visit your family. I sent a messenger to your sister yesterday after we spoke. She’s moved a little further from the capital. I’ll assign an escort to take you to her.”

Nyan slumped against the back of his chair. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He turned to Daniel. “You’ll come with me?”

Before Daniel could respond, Mitchell rose from his seat. “We’ll both go. Grogan, you up to unloading pallets?” he asked the captain, who was recently back from medical leave following his severe beating at the hands of a couple of homicidal Goa’uld.

“Yes, sir,” Grogan assured him. “I’m ready for whatever you need me to do.”

“Good man.” Mitchell grinned. “Contact General Landry and ask him to send those supplies through. You and Vala can start unloading them and I’ll send Kal’toc back to help.”

Vala leapt up. “What? Do you seriously think I’m going to stay here and manually labor while you three go off and have afternoon tea, or whatever it is they do around here for entertainment?”

“Yes, Princess, that is exactly what I expect,” Mitchell returned matter-of-factly.

Vala pressed her lips together, the tension flattening their contours. “Fine,” she spat, “but not without protest.”

Mitchell stepped back, giving her room to get by. “But obviously not without protest,” he muttered. Having anticipated her response, he’d managed to time his comment so that they ended up finishing together. “Once you’ve unloaded the supplies, catch up to SG-8. Check in every two hours.”

With an audible harrumph, Vala whirled away from him, tossed a pigtail over her shoulder, and marched from the room, a clearly disconcerted Grogan trailing in her wake.

 “Well, now that that’s settled,” Daniel piped into the awkward silence that followed, “Marshal Parey, may we proceed with our visit to Nyan’s sister?”

Rising smoothly, Parey canted her head in agreement. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the courtyard. You can pick up a transport there.”

*****

“This is like something out of the Jetsons.”

Daniel glanced over his shoulder to the man sitting in the aisle seat behind him.

Mitchell grinned broadly. “Suppose they’d let me take one of these puppies back through to Earth?”

“Maybe,” Daniel replied, though his tone warned Mitchell not to get his hopes up. “But I think you’d have a hard time convincing General Landry to let you keep it.”

Mitchell rolled his eyes in disgruntlement, and Daniel turned back to watch out the window as, with a low hum, their shuttlecraft lifted smoothly from the ground.

Almost from the moment he’d set eyes on the shuttle, with its rear hatch lifted for loading, he’d been gifted with the memory of Jack’s unreserved excitement over the Ancient’s time machine. Climbing inside, an internal ‘Whoo-hoo’ had lifted the corners of his mouth, as well as his spirits, feeling for a few seconds that Jack was still at his side. Mitchell’s enthusiasm renewed the sensation, and Daniel’s grin returned.

The Optrican military shuttle was of a similar shape and size to the Ancient’s ship, but, instead of interstellar travel, it was clearly utilized as short range transport. Wide enough to accommodate two rows of swiveling seats on either side of the center aisle, the craft would hold up to twelve passengers. It featured a wraparound window, giving them a wide panoramic view of their surroundings.

Gazing around him, Daniel marveled at the orderly flow of shuttle traffic. With no roads to follow, still the craft seemed to keep to a set flight path. He noted that the majority of the shuttles on either side of them were larger versions of the one they traveled in. Public transportation must be the norm here, he surmised. That would make it easier to maintain traffic patterns.

He glanced down, looking out over the expanse of low, narrow buildings that covered the flat ground. Given the dismal scenery, Daniel wondered at the wisdom of the wraparound window. Thin alleyways separated the dull structures, with two wider roads intersecting every ten meters or so.

An island of vivid green appeared suddenly in the sea of blandness. Daniel turned as they passed over it, pressing his cheek against the window to keep it in his sights. He made a mental note to ask someone what purpose the park-like landmark served.

Lifting his gaze, he blinked at the glare from the ocean, glittering brightly in the distance beneath Optrica’s high sun. He’d been surprised to learn the capital city was so near the coastline as the only thing he’d previously seen of this world was hilly terrain surrounded by forest.

And a couple of temporary military structures obscured by the bars of a cage.

His gaze drifted over his shoulder to the rearmost seats, settling on the guards Parey had sent with them. Neither man paid him any mind, both staring impassively ahead, seemingly oblivious to anything going on around them.

“Jackson.”

Daniel flinched and blinked, his eyes taking a moment to focus on Mitchell.

“You alright?”

His gaze darting to Nyan, who sat in the window seat opposite and one row behind Mitchell, Daniel forced a smile. “Fine,” he replied by rote and turned away from them.

A moment later, Nyan slipped into the seat beside him. “I think it’s the uniform,” he said softly. “It’s really not all that dissimilar to the one worn by Rigar’s men.”

Turning to Nyan, Daniel cast a sidelong glance at the guards. The uniforms were made of a dark brown cloth a shade or two lighter than the leathery garb of the Bedrosian soldiers. But Daniel knew it was more the men in the uniform that bothered him.

“They’re all so uninvolved,” he muttered to himself. 

“Uninvolved?”

Nyan regarded him with honest interest. The look was such a contrast to what he remembered from the other Bedrosians he’d encountered that Daniel’s ill-ease waned a bit.

“We never really talked about what happened when we were here last. I mean, we’ve discussed the events, you know, in briefings and such, but I’ve never told you how I felt about it.”

“I imagine you were pretty frightened,” Nyan ventured. “I know I would have been in your place.”

“I was,” Daniel confessed, more calmly than he’d expected. “The threats and the mind games, those shock weapons and the needles. All very scary stuff. But I’ve been through worse; the physical hurt wasn’t that bad. What I found really unnerving was their detached, apathetic demeanor. I had no doubt that Rigar would kill us and feel not the slightest remorse for it. I was surprised, though, that everyone around him carried out his orders with the same lack of concern. I can’t even say it was like dealing with a bunch of robots because clearly they did care about something – Rigar’s repeated tirades proved that. They were just indifferent when it came to us.

“It’s such a contrast from the military we work with everyday,” he reflected. “Don’t get me wrong, they can be impassive as well, when they have to be, but I know that they’re affected by the objectionable things they’re forced to do. At least most of them are. I’ve seen it in their eyes. I never saw any sign of conscience in Rigar’s men. Even Parey.”

“Imagine what it would be like working with them watching over your shoulder,” Nyan said quietly.

“I know Jack and General Hammond questioned you about that. I just figured if you wanted to tell me, you would.”

Nyan’s chin dropped toward his chest, his eyes fixed on the hands in his lap. “It’s difficult to talk about.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t deliberately obstinate,” Nyan remarked. “I just wasn’t going to let him bully me the way he did his underlings.”

“Rigar.”

“Yes. He wasn’t happy that we were looking for proof of the Bedrosian theory; he believed we should just accept it as fact. But, I had permission from the Bedrosian ruling council to conduct my research,” Nyan declared, a bit more life creeping back into his voice. “And I wasn’t going to let him dissuade me from my search for the truth.”

“Even though you knew he would likely cover up anything you found that was not to his liking.”

“I was hoping to get to my colleagues before he found out. After a while, Rigar was convinced we’d never find anything and he relaxed the patrol a bit. The day we found the Gateway, he was actually at his headquarters several miles away. If Mallin hadn’t panicked and called in to report your arrival, things might have been very different.” He huffed a wry laugh. “But, I can’t blame her, really. She suffered as much as I did under his oppressive supervision.”

Remembering Nyan’s reaction in the control room, Daniel concluded, “You knew that Mallin’s memories had been tampered with.”

Nyan’s head bobbed faintly. “Rigar threatened it all the time. He only allowed us to continue with our work because he knew he could easily hide anything he didn’t like, and erase our memories of ever finding it before anyone was the wiser. His men would have backed him completely.”

“Yet, still, you searched,” Daniel said fondly.

Nyan shrugged. “Yes, it’s what I do.” 

In perfect harmony with the sentiment, Daniel bowed a little Teal’c-like affirmation.

The shuttle’s hum pitched higher and Mitchell broke into their moment of solidarity. “Time to put those tray tables up, folks.”

Turning to gaze out his window as the craft hovered, Daniel just caught a glimpse of the ocean, less than a mile away, before it disappeared from view behind the intervening structures. He pressed his forehead to the window and, on the outer edge of the building below them, saw the designation for their journey’s end: 4S≈65W ۩ . Without taking his eyes off the markings, he asked, “Nyan, how is this address read? What’s the significance of the symbols?”

Nyan stood and leaned over Daniel’s shoulder. “The first number and letter combination indicates distance from a north/south point, in this case the ocean. We’re four blocks south of the shore…”

An oddly strangled noise issued, so unpronounced that had his ear not been right next to Nyan’s throat Daniel would have missed it. Brow creased in concern, he turned an assessing eye on his friend.

Nyan ducked away from the scrutiny. “Uh, the second indicates distance from an east/west point. This building is on the sixty-fifth block west of the capital,” he added before slumping back into his seat.

Curiosity overshadowed by concern, Daniel asked, “What’s wrong?”

Hands fidgeting in his lap, Nyan shook his head vaguely. He said nothing for half a minute, and when he did speak, Daniel had to struggle to pick up everything.

“This is very near Commodities Store,” Nyan murmured into his chest. “What you refer to on Earth as the warehouse district. My sister practically lived in the city center; I can’t imagine why she would move this far away from everything. Unless she was forced out here after I left.”

“Let’s not assume the worse,” Daniel mildly admonished. “Maybe she just wanted to live nearer the ocean.”

“No,” Nyan practically spat, “she hates the water.”

The shuttle began its descent and Daniel left off any further attempt at consolation. They would know soon enough why Nyan’s sister had made such a drastic relocation.

The craft touched down on the building with the barest disturbance, the rear hatch rising almost immediately. Even so, Nyan beat it to the punch: out of his seat and headed for the rooftop before the door was fully open.

Daniel slid out of the seat, exchanged a troubled look with Mitchell as he passed, and followed right on Nyan’s heels. He managed to hook Nyan’s shoulder before the younger man got too far, instructing him to wait for their escort.

After the artificially cooled interior of the shuttle, the warm, humid outside air was heavy, a weighty presence pressing against them. Daniel took a moment to look around, while the crew powered down their transport.

A breeze teased his face and he recognized the tangy scent of salt. Beyond the neighboring building, in the direction Nyan had labeled north, the ocean was clearly visible. Daniel strained his ear but at this distance there was no telltale pounding of surf. There were no bird sounds either, and he cast a quick gaze to the hazy sky, confirming their absence. It had been his experience, on every coast he’d ever visited, that birds inhabited the area near the ocean in large numbers.

Unbidden, Daniel’s mind enhanced the mystery of the missing shore birds with a memory of abundant evidence of avian life in the woods near the place where he and his team had been held captive the last time they came here. With nothing better to do for long periods of time, Daniel had listened to the birds call to one another, their songs muffled slightly by the thick canvas of the prison tent. Their melodies, soothing and uplifting at first, had turned irritating and mocking as, the longer he was forced to do nothing but listen to them, Daniel had come to envy them their freedom.

The Optrican soldiers crunched their way across the pebbled rooftop, and Daniel shook himself from his brooding. One of the men gestured to a platform in the corner behind them and Daniel spun, trailing after Nyan’s stiff form. As the last man set both feet on the rounded surface, it began to smoothly lower them into the building’s interior.

*****

“Please, sit,” Nala instructed once the introductions had been made. “Nyan, you’ll help me with the tea?” Without a word, Nyan followed his sister from the room.

Daniel shared an amused smirk with Mitchell. “I won’t tell Vala she was right if you don’t,” he said. Turning to survey the sparse furnishings, he gestured Mitchell to a worn chair and moved to the large window seat.

The tea was fragrant, a scent reminiscent of cloves tingling Daniel’s nostrils. He’d barely finished his cup, when Nyan sent him a smile of mute appeal, clearly asking to be alone with his sister.

Daniel stood. “Why don’t we leave you two to get reacquainted,” he suggested, adopting the idea as his own. Without questioning the recommendation, Mitchell said his goodbyes and retreated to the doorway.

“Is there some point of interest in the area that we can visit?” Daniel asked.

“There is a public park dedicated to the Gateway,” Nala replied. “Three intersections east then south.”

“We flew over several parks on our way here.”

Nala nodded. “Each sector has its own.”

Daniel thanked her for the information, instructed Nyan to contact them when he was ready, and followed Mitchell into the hall.

Gathering up their escort, Mitchell directed them to the exit.

“At least it’s cooler in the shade,” Mitchell quipped brightly, as they emerged onto the path between the buildings. He ran the back of his hand over his forehead, swiping the damp knuckles against his pants leg.

Daniel squinted at him, his eyes scrunched tighter than was actually required in the muted sunlight between the buildings. He scanned the length of the narrow alleyway to the intersecting path. “East three blocks, then south,” he pointed over Mitchell’s shoulder.

“Okay. Gimme just a second to let my team know we’re relocating.” Cradling the muzzle of his weapon in his left hand, he clutched his com. “Vala, come in. This is Mitchell.”

The air remained dead for several seconds before a very curt, “Vala, here,” sounded.

Shoulders lifting around his ears at the questioning look Mitchell sent him, Daniel pursed his lips in discomfort at the bite in Vala’s follow up remark.

“We’re very busy, Cameron. Did you need something?”

“Yes, I needed something,” Mitchell automatically barked back. 

Daniel winced. He knew from far too many such encounters, that meeting Vala snark for snark would only prolong the conversation, without satisfactory result for anyone. Waving at Mitchell to get his attention, he laid his hands out flat before him and pressed downward, reminding the colonel bring his irritation level down a notch or two before saying another word.

Mitchell inhaled deeply. “I needed to let you know,” he said more calmly, “that Jackson and I have left Nyan to visit with his sister and are headed to a park just south of here to wait for him.”

“A park?” Vala squeaked at them. “Well, doesn’t that sound nice and relaxing.” The brief silence that followed was filled with ice. “You boys run along and play in the park,” she said after a moment. “I’ll just slog along through this dust and debris after SG-8.”

Now that the information had been conveyed, Daniel cut across his throat with the tips of his fingers, urging Mitchell to end the call.

Nodding, Mitchell muttered, “You do that. Mitchell out.”

Daniel gave him a long, searching look. “You ought to know when she’s in this kind of mood, arguing with her just escalates the melodrama.” 

“Yeah, I can’t say I wasn’t forewarned when I asked to keep her on my team,” Mitchell grumbled. “It’s just that, sometimes, the diva routine wears a bit thin.”

“So talk to her after we get back.”

“Right.” Pivoting smartly, a maneuver Daniel was sure the officer had learned in his early days at the Air Force Academy, Mitchell dropped his P-90, letting the weapon dangle from his tactical vest. He gestured towards the group of guards milling against the building.

“You two,” he singled out the crew of the shuttlecraft, motioning them away from the building with a sweep of his wrists, “are with us. You two,” he aimed the fingers at the men Parey had assigned to escort them, “stay here and keep an eye out for Nyan. Though I don’t expect he’ll be coming out anytime soon.”

The designated soldiers marched onto the path before them, weapons at the ready. Mitchell prodded them into action with a flick of his chin and the men began a purposeful march. He used a similar gesture on Daniel, herding him in behind the armed men.

Daniel eyed him a moment, an unmistakable look of displeasure crossing his features. The scowl was as far as he took the protest before acceded to the demand. Mitchell merely grinned pleasantly, palmed his P-90 again, and took up the rear.

Since the formation made it difficult to talk, Daniel occupied himself with a survey of the neighborhood. Laid out like row houses on Earth, each block-like building they passed was nearly identical to its neighbor. Uniformly nondescript, the structures’ smooth exteriors glinted dully where the descending sun touched them.

His gaze traveled lazily upward and Daniel noted the address stamped in large block letters on the top corner of each building The residences were situated close together, but the narrow alleys between were still wide enough to accommodate foot traffic. A shuttlecraft hummed overhead, reminding him why the divide need not be significant.

The small party approached the juncture Nala had directed them to and Daniel called out, “We want to go left here,” at the same time Mitchell directed, “Take it to the left, fellas.”

The road they turned on to was nearly twice as wide as the one they left.  As he made the corner, Daniel glanced over his shoulder, his brow lifting slightly when Mitchell quickened his pace a bit and pulled up beside him.

“This is kinda depressing, huh?” Mitchell commented. “No yards, no trees, no greenery of any kind. Talk about your ‘Concrete Jungle’ – except it’s not really concrete.”

Bemused, Daniel’s grinned at the unsolicited chatter. Until he realized that, for Mitchell who thrived on wide open spaces, this environment must come as close to hell as Antarctica had for the desert-loving archaeologist. “Well, there is the park,” Daniel reminded him, indicating the small patch of nature that had come into view as they rounded the corner.

“Do you really think she moved here just to get away from the ‘oppressive concern of friends’?” Mitchell let go his weapon to trace quotes in the air, a gesture so reminiscent of Jack that Daniel smiled impulsively. The smile disappeared when he caught one of their escorts aborting a peep over his shoulder.

“Well, we have nothing but her word to go on,” Daniel replied flatly. “And I can’t think of any reason she’d lie about it.” He clued Mitchell in with a minute tilt of his head towards the backs of the men treading silently a few paces in front of them.

Mitchell jerked his chin in an inappreciable nod – message received. “Yeah, I guess,” he drawled.

Another few minutes of silent walking brought them to their intended destination. The park was situated at the street’s juncture with another, wider road. “Must be the main thoroughfares through this district,” Daniel surmised.

“What do you think – designed to accommodate the masses making their way to worship? Nala said the park was dedicated to the Stargate.”

“You’re probably right,” Daniel concurred. “I did see this pattern repeated a few times as we passed over in the shuttlecraft. I don’t remember seeing any other monuments, though.”

He gestured to the mammoth, vaguely triangular black rock formation seemingly plopped in the center of a slightly raised grassy oasis. On the outer edges of the park, nearly flush against the buildings that bordered it, thin trees reached up their spindly arms to the sun, their foliage spread across the top like widely splayed hands.

Contrary to Mitchell’s theory, the wider roads were totally devoid of travelers. In fact, there were no more than a dozen people in the park itself. Off peak time? Daniel wondered.

The few people near the monument eyed them curiously as they approached. Shifting effortlessly into peaceful explorer mode, Daniel smiled and nodded amiably to a couple standing on the raised ledge that surrounded the monument. The husband, or so Daniel guessed him to be as the woman had her hands wrapped possessively around his arm, returned the gesture. The wife, however, glared at him, her clearly distrustful gaze raking him over from head to toe. Stepping down from the platform, she all but yanked the man from his perch before spinning away from them.

Mitchell shuffled to the left and took a step forward, bringing him to Daniel’s side. “Something we said?” he queried.

Daniel grimaced ill-humoredly at the quip.

“Maybe she just doesn’t like strangers,” Mitchell mollified.

Daniel conceded the point with a nod. Casting a last glance at the woman, he turned his attention back to the monument.

More than twice his height at the apex, the highly polished surface caught the afternoon sunshine. Jet black in the shadows, the rock glowed under the orb’s influence in shades varying from charcoal grey to almost white. The effect was so dramatic that Daniel wondered briefly if he was looking at molded metal and not stone, until he spotted telltale striations and minor pitting on the surface, which confirmed it was a natural formation.

Curious about its origin, having seen only standard red and brown rocks on his last visit, Daniel called to the men who accompanied them. “Can you tell me anything about this stone? Did it come from this area? It’s unusually reflective… which in light of Nefertum’s association with the sun is certainly appropriate.”

Seemingly undecided whether Daniel was actually addressing them, the men exchanged surprised looks, before giving him identical blank stares.

Daniel sighed in disappointment, but continued his exploration. Eyes drinking in every nuance of the stone, he began a slow march around the rectangular base. Footsteps sounded a fraction of a second behind his, and Daniel resisted the urge to glare over his shoulder at Mitchell.

Coming around to the far side of the monument, he had about made up his mind to ask Mitchell to back off, when he noted a change in the texture of the stone. Quickening his pace, he lurched to a halt before a six foot circular pattern etched in the rock’s smooth face.

“That’s the Stargate,” Mitchell announced behind him.

“The Gateway,” Daniel corrected. “This…” he tossed a dubious glance around them, “park is dedicated to the Gateway.”

“Right.”

Canting his head to the left, Daniel marveled at the clarity of the image. “This is amazing work. I can make out every detail, read every symbol. It’s like looking at a smaller version of the real thing.” Of its own volition his hand came up, fingers rubbing against the outside of his thumb, like a safecracker about to begin his work.

Undeterred by his previous lack of success, he turned again to their escort. “Is touching permitted?”

“Really?” Mitchell came close to whining. “You have to touch it?”

Rolling his eyes in Mitchell’s direction, Daniel sent an impatient glare over the rim of his glasses. “No, I don’t have to touch it,” he retorted. “But, look at the contrast in textures.” He skipped back a pace, gesturing at the rock. “The stone is absolutely smooth, like polished onyx. But the edges on the symbols in the ring are so sharp and crisp, it looks like you could cut yourself on them. A variation this extreme just begs to be examined.” He turned slightly and flung out an arm, presenting the stone, his face lit expectantly.

Mitchell glanced at the hand Daniel held out in invitation and dutifully moved forward. He considered the rock, tilting his head back and forth, as though studying a fine work of art. Finally, he stepped back and turned to Daniel, his expression bland. “Sorry, I don’t see the attraction.”

The smile dropped from Daniel’s face, his eyes narrowing just a bit.

Mitchell shrugged. Leaning slightly to his right, he called around Daniel to the guards who accompanied them. “Is it all right if he touches it?”

“It is permissible to approach the monument only with reverence,” one of the men informed them.

“Did you not just hear him waxing poetic about the textures?” Mitchell asked. “I don’t think reverence is gonna be a problem.” He cut his gaze back to Daniel and, with a jerk of his head toward the monument, murmured, “Just… keep it clean, okay?”

Daniel twitched a taut grin. “I’ll try to control myself,” he said. Turning away, he stepped onto the low wall.

From this slightly raised vantage point, he noted a definite wear pattern in the grassy bed in which the stone nestled. From ground level, the grass looked full and even but, just before the circular etching, the blades were trampled, indicating that it was commonplace for citizens to stand near the ring. 

Daniel moved into the grass and positioned himself in front of the engraved Gateway. Bending forward, he grunted involuntarily when the butt of his P-90 prodded him in the ribcage. He unclipped it from his vest and rested it gingerly against the stone to his right. Raising his eyes to the monument, he angled his upper body to block the sun and leaned closer. 

The pad of his middle finger had just brushed the stone when Mitchell’s radio crackled. Noting with surprise that the surface was warm, but not hot, to the touch, Daniel mentally filed the information and split his attention between his inspection of the monument and Mitchell’s com.

“Mitchell, this is Vala.”

Continuing his tactile inspection, Daniel glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Mitchell spin and walk away a few steps.

“Yeah, Vala, what’s up? Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, Cameron,” Vala replied, though by the lingering irritation in her delivery, Daniel guessed that status did not extend to her mood. “I’m just checking in on the two hour mark, as ordered.”

Sending an incredulous look in Daniel’s direction, Mitchell rolled his eyes dramatically. “I talked to you barely thirty minutes ago. It wasn’t really necessary to call again.”

“Exactly two hours ago, you said ‘check in every two hours’,” Vala countered. “I marked the time. Now, I don’t recall you rescinding that order in our previous conversa –” 

“Alright,” Mitchell conceded. “You’re absolutely right; I did not rescind that order. So, how goes the inspection?”

“Slowly.” Vala drew out the response for emphasis, though she instantly picked up on his request for a sit-rep. “There’s widespread damage, but we’ve not seen anything serious yet. Facelift stuff, mostly, according to Major Holden. Really, if they get this upset about a few cosmetic flaws –”

Mitchell scoffed. “You’re going to criticize their fixation on appearances?”

“Well, these are just buildings after all,” she reasoned.

Catching Daniel’s eye, Mitchell shook his head. “Right. So, Major Holden is satisfied that all of the buildings are structurally sound?” he said.

“Yes. We’ve not seen anything yet that would qualify as the major destruction they described. But we do have more ground to cover.”

“Copy,” Mitchell acknowledged. “The locals treating you okay? Anything I need to know about?”

“Well, the men do seem especially appreciative of the way my BDUs fit, but, otherwise, nothing remarkable. Why? Have you had problems?”

“Not exactly,” Mitchell hedged. “Just… one of the women we encountered was a little skittish around Jackson. Nothing to be concerned about.”

“Was he wearing that pinched, standoffish expression? The one where his features all sort of scrunch together? Because really, Daniel, that is not an attractive look for you.”

His hand falling to his side, Daniel shot a glare at the radio on Mitchell’s shoulder from which the remark emanated.

Mitchell grinned. “We’ll work on that.” The amusement bled quickly from his face as he said with particular emphasis, “Unless one of us has reason to make contact sooner, next check in is two hours. Mitchell out.” He shared a harried look with Daniel. “She is not happy about being left behind.”

“Ya think?” Daniel quipped, returning his full attention to the ring. He’d noted upon first touch that the stone was warm – no staggering discovery considering the sun beating down on it. He was surprised to learn, though, that even the portion of the stone in the direct sunlight was not so hot that it burned his fingers. Having scorched his bare feet on Jack’s stone walkway on a hot July afternoon, he found the inconsistency fascinating.

“Maybe it’s got some property that absorbs the heat, drawing it away from the surface,” he theorized aloud. “Wonder if that feature would make the stone useful as an energy source. I’ll have to remember to ask Sam.”

“You say something?”

Drawn out of his contemplations, Daniel turned slightly unfocused eyes on Mitchell. “Hmm?”

“Never mind” Mitchell waved him back to his work.

Daniel returned his gaze to the monument as his fingers glided over the carved portion of the stone. Sliding off his glasses, he moved closer. His fingers told him that the Gateway emblem had been chiseled into the black surface, but the edges were sharp and perfectly uniform – there was not the slightest chip or uneven line anywhere he could see. He stepped back, frowning pensively.

“Machined?” he wondered.

The thought got no further. A sharply spoken, “Jackson!” followed by the unmistakable screech of a zat discharge, captured his attention utterly. Daniel instinctively reached for his weapon, dropping his glasses in his haste. He spun, noting from the periphery of his vision the blue lightning outlining Mitchell’s falling form. Distantly, he registered cries of alarm and swiftly receding footsteps. Raising his P-90, he crouched against the stone and quickly backed around the outcropping of the triangular base. He peered around the monument, a quick scan revealing one of Parey’s men on the ground, the other wresting with the wielder of the zat. There were no citizens within his field of view and Daniel hoped they had all successfully fled.

Confident he was safe for the moment, he cast his worried gaze to his friend, who lay on the street just below Daniel’s perch. He hissed out an urgent “Mitchell,” hoping that he hadn’t taken a full charge from the zat and might be roused by the hail. Receiving not the slightest flinch in response, Daniel pivoted, flattened his back against the stone, and reached for his com.

“Uh-uh!” a voice barked on his right. Daniel turned awkwardly to find the business end of a Bedrosian dual-action rifle staring him in the face. “Drop your weapon and put both hands where I can see them,” the owner of the voice ordered.

Redirecting his attention from the beak-like point of the rifle to the person thrusting it at him, Daniel was surprised to see a young man, barely out of his teens. He held his staff-like weapon with the confidence of a seasoned soldier. Which shouldn’t have been surprising, since he wore the dark brown uniform of the Optrican military.

Daniel briefly considered his options. He took in the tense posture and severe expression of his opponent; the man was supremely vigilant. In addition, his own clumsy position would make it difficult to overtake the younger man, even if he managed to surprise him by making a move.

Puffing out an exasperated sigh, Daniel gently laid his weapon on the grass and raised both hands to shoulder level, holding them away from his body. He shifted slightly, his crouched stance causing his left knee to twinge painfully. “Is it okay if I stand up?” he asked, waggling his fingers to emphasize his harmless status. “I won’t try anything, I promise. I’m just… my knees aren’t as young as they used to be…” His explanation trailed off as a second stranger, the man he’d seen fighting with the guard, approached from his left and took aim.

“Stay where you are,” the youth advised. “You won’t have so far to fall.”

Daniel grimaced and, as the zat unfurled, braced himself for the familiar jolt of pain.

To be continued in part 2…

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