The light died away and when Jack’s eyes readjusted, he was able to see that all three of them had been transported this time; the only problem was that while Carter and Teal’c were moving around freely, he was still stuck in a containment field.  His concern for his own situation was quickly pushed aside as his gaze landed on their fourth teammate.

Daniel was lying on a metal table in the center of the otherwise empty room. Jack couldn’t see anything holding him down, nor could he see any obvious injuries, but the fact that Daniel had his eyes closed and lay completely still had his anxiety level spiking.

“Carter—”

“On it, sir.”  She was already moving to Daniel’s side as Teal’c began walking the perimeter of the bare, gray-walled room, looking for a way out. 

Placing her fingers at Daniel’s neck, she waited a couple of seconds, then turned and flashed him a smile.  “He’s got a pulse.”

Finally, some good news.  Now, if he could just get out of his own personal holding cell, he’d be even happier. 

Carter turned back to Daniel and grasped his shoulder, giving it a shake.  “Daniel.”

Jack’s relief was short-lived when Daniel didn’t respond.  Teal’c ended his inspection of the room and came to stand on the other side of the table. 

“Daniel Jackson!”  Teal’c’s voice reverberated around the empty room, eliciting a moan from Daniel, but nothing more.  He continued to lay unmoving on the table, showing no other signs of waking up.

“C’mon, Daniel, naptime’s over,” Jack cajoled, hoping to provoke a response.  There was none.

Carter began checking him over, working her way methodically down his body, feeling the back of his head for lumps and examining his limbs and torso for injuries.  “I can’t find any external injuries, sir.”

“Dandy.”  That just left the internal kind. 

While Carter hovered over Daniel, Teal’c began inspecting Jack’s cell. 

“Whadda ya think, T?  Can you break me out?”

Teal’c arched his eyebrow in what Jack thought of as that ‘are you nuts?’ kind of way. 

“C’mon, give it a good punch.”

“I do not believe that would be wise.”

“I’m goin’ crazy in here and I’ve gotta pee!”

“Then I would advise you to ‘hold it’.”

Before Jack could reply, Carter interrupted.  “I don’t understand why you’re still being held in a containment field, sir,” she said, scrutinizing his cell.

“Perhaps because he is the leader of SG-1?” Teal’c offered. 

“Maybe.  Or maybe—”

Carter left the sentence unfinished as another moan from Daniel pulled everyone’s attention back to him.  She tried once again to get him to respond. 

“C’mon, Daniel, wake up.”  She leaned in close just as Daniel opened his eyes. 

He didn’t seem to see her, but kept his gaze on the ceiling.  It hadn’t escaped Jack’s notice that his teammate still wasn’t talking, either.  A silent Daniel was not a good thing—at least most of the time.  Jack’s anger was starting to boil, his frustration at being stuck in the containment field, unable to do anything, fueling the fire. 

Seemingly oblivious to Sam’s continued attempts to get him to respond to her, Daniel blinked a couple of times and then turned his head to look at the wall.  Several seconds later it shimmered and disappeared, revealing a doorway.  Jack’s muscles tensed in anticipation of their first glimpse of their hosts.

At first glance, the two aliens that entered appeared human: a little taller than the average Earth man, with pale skin covering long, well-muscled arms, and the same number of hands and fingers. But there were also differences: a nasal ridge with several bumps on it, and the most vivid blue eyes Jack had ever seen.  Their hair was long, pulled back and twisted into a knot on the back of their heads, reminding him of a Samurai.  One had auburn colored hair and the other’s was a bluish-gray.  Both wore sleeveless tops of a dark gray fabric with padding over the shoulders, and form-fitting pants of the same fabric, with a wide belt crossing from shoulder to waist and another circling around the middle.

Huh.  So if these are the Furlings, they’re neither cute nor furry.

‘Red’, as Jack dubbed the auburn-haired alien, carried a device in one hand which looked to him like it could be a weapon—or a TV remote—while ‘Gray’, an obvious name choice, carried a small bundle of cloth in his arms.  Both stopped just inside the door, giving Carter and Teal’c a cursory glance before turning their attention to Daniel. 

Ah, oh.  Jack had a bad feeling about this.  To his surprise, however, Daniel sat up and looked straight at them.  And that was it—no one said a word; they just continued to stare at each other.  Jack’s anxiety rose, along with the hair on the back of his neck.  There was something going on here that was definitely not normal.  “Daniel, wanna tell us what’s goin’ on?”

Daniel turned his gaze to Jack, his forehead wrinkling as though he was trying to understand what Jack was saying. 

“Ren . . . olii.”

“What?”  Daniel just kept looking at him, as though that explained everything.  “Carter, Teal’c, any idea what he’s talking about?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

“I do not recognize that term.  It is not a word I am familiar with, O’Neill.”

“Renolii.”

“Ravioli?  Not really hungry myself, thanks.  What’s Italian food got to do with anything?”

Daniel shook his head, furrowing his brow in frustration.  “Them.  Renolii.  They’re the Renolii.”  Daniel’s words were stilted, as though he were having trouble getting them out.  But Jack got the message—the aliens were the Renolii. 

“Uh, how do you know that, Daniel?” Carter jumped in with the question on the tip of Jack’s tongue.

Daniel briefly closed his eyes as he pulled in a breath and let it out.  Opening them again, he looked from Jack to Carter.  “They told me.  They call themselves the Renolii—they’re the descendants of the Furlings.” His words began to flow more naturally again.

“Been chatting with them while we were away?”  If so, he was the only one who’d been able to do that. 

“I can hear them.”  Daniel reached up and touched his fingers to his temple.

Yep, he knew something weird was going on—they’d been playing around in Daniel’s head.

“You’re talking to them right now?” Carter asked.

“Yeah.  They say they ‘fixed’ my brain.”

“Fixed?  What the hell does that mean?”  Jack’s need to punch something, or someone, was only amplified by his immobilization. 

The gray-haired alien turned his gaze to Jack before shifting it to Daniel, who stared back intently but silently, making Jack wonder what the hell was going on.  Just as he was about to let loose with a rant, Daniel spoke.  “He says my natural ability to communicate telepathically with other Renolii was suppressed due to damage to my genetic code.  They repaired the damage and, uh, restored my ability to its normal level.”

“Whoa!  Hold on there.  Your ‘natural’ ability?  Since when has telepathy been one of your natural abilities?”

Daniel glanced at Jack, confusion etched into his features, before facing the Renolii again.  Jack watched as they stared at each other, ‘communicating’ if what Daniel had just told them was true.  “Well?”

Daniel turned back slowly, his gaze passing from Teal’c to Carter before settling on Jack.  He recognized that look—it had been a long time since he’d seen it, but he knew it well; the one that clearly said Daniel had made a discovery.  “All . . . Furlings . . . have the ability.”

“Wait!  Are you saying you’re a Furling?”  Carter exclaimed.  Jack swore if Carter’s eyes got any bigger, they’d pop out of her head.  He was having trouble processing that little bombshell himself. 

Daniel turned wide eyes to her, mouth falling open as though not sure what to say.  Instead of answering, he faced the Renolii again.

“Hang on!” Jack protested.  “How ‘bout holding this conversation out loud so we can all hear the explanation?”

“Are you able to speak aloud?” Daniel asked the aliens.

“We are,” Gray replied.

“Would you speak so that my friends can hear the conversation?”

“We have no interest in speaking to these.” Red glanced briefly at Daniel’s teammates, dismissing them. “Our only concern is with locating any Furlings still remaining in this galaxy.” 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant to ask us to choose emissaries and then refuse to speak so they can understand you?” Daniel purposely spoke aloud. “We are representatives of a planet called Earth—”

“Who you represent is of no concern to us,” Red also spoke aloud. “However, we agree to verbal communication for the sake of those unable to converse as we do.  This one is predominantly human,” he continued, pointing to Carter. “This one comes from a race we are also familiar with,” he nodded towards Teal’c, “and this one,” he turned icy blue eyes to Jack, “is our enemy—a member of a race that turned its back on us.  You, however, are Furling and belong with us.”

“Why do you believe Daniel Jackson is Furling?” Teal’c asked. 

Red glanced at Teal’c, but directed his reply to Daniel.  “The appearance of the Furlings in this galaxy has changed over the millennia since our ancestors left, but our tests leave no doubt—you are one of us.”  Gray stepped closer to Daniel and offered him the bundle he’d been holding.

“But I’m human!” Daniel insisted, accepting the cloths and holding them up to reveal clothing like that the Renolii were wearing. 

“Your ancestors were of the clans that remained in this galaxy.”

“It’s like the general’s Ancient gene,” Carter interjected.  “The Furlings must have co-mingled with humans in our galaxy, passing on a gene.”

“This is all very fascinating,” Jack managed to jump into the conversation, “but I’m kinda tired of playing statue.  Do you think you could let me out of here?”

Neither Renolii acknowledged Jack’s request, rankling already frazzled nerves.  “Daniel?”

“Right.  Um, could you release him from the containment field?”

“You will join us,” Red insisted, gesturing to the clothes Daniel held. “Then we will return the others to their ship.”

Daniel inspected the clothes again, and looked back at Red.  “You want me to change now?”

“Well, that’s typical,” Jack snarked.

“What?”

“I’ve never met an alien that didn’t want to get you naked.”

“I have never had such urges.”

“Thank you, Teal’c.  I feel so much better.”  Dismissing the exchange, Daniel focused on the two Renolii.  “You asked us to choose our emissary; that’s why we’re here—to establish a dialogue.  Is it really necessary for me to join you to do that?”

“You would turn your back on those who have traveled from another galaxy to find you?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Daniel countered, “I may be part Furling, but I am also part human.  Surely we can find a compromise?”

“You are either one of us, or one of our enemies.”

Daniel nodded his head in understanding and, pinning Red with his gaze, asked for reassurance.  “If I agree, will you release Jack from the containment field?”

As much as Jack would like to have these guys on their side, there was no way he’d let Daniel ‘join’ them.  “Daniel—”

“It will be done.”

“Fine.”  Daniel swung his legs off the table and stood up, grabbing the edge as he swayed. 

Sam steadied his arm.  “You okay?”

“I’m fine.  But, uh, would you mind...” He waved a finger at Sam, twirling it in a circle.

“Oh!  Sorry.”  Sam smiled sheepishly, turning her back as Daniel began unbuttoning his shirt.  Teal’c lifted his head, directing his gaze somewhere above Daniel’s head. 

“Sorry,” Jack said, “I don’t have much choice.” 

Daniel quickly changed into the drab gray clothing, folding his BDUs and laying them on the table before turning back to the Renolii.  “All right, now release General O’Neill.” 

A flash of light signaled the dissolution of the containment field and Jack stumbled as pent up tension propelled him forward.  Quickly regaining his balance, he moved to stand with Carter and Teal’c.  “Thanks.”  He figured it couldn’t hurt to stay on the Renolii’s good side, if they had one, especially after that comment about him being their ‘enemy’—something he’d like to have explained.  First things first, though.  “Any chance we could contact the Hammond?”  In for a penny, in for a pound. 

“Could we communicate with our ship?  Let them know we’re all right?” Daniel relayed the request.

Seconds ticked by and Jack wondered if they were communicating telepathically with other Renolii, or simply considering the request.  Finally, Gray broke the silence.  “Very well.  Your communications devices will be returned.” 

~oOo~

“This is—” Cam checked his temper quickly when he locked stares with a child clinging to his mother’s leg, eyes wide with surprise at his outburst.  Flashing a forced smile, he turned his attention back to Tas’lo, the settlement leader.  “This is stupid.  We came here to warn you about a threat to your people and you ask us leave?  What part of impending peril don’t you understand?”

Tas’lo wasn’t a typical Jaffa.  If Cam totally ignored the golden tattoo on his forehead that marked him as a former First Prime of Cronos, he could well imagine the man as an interstellar salesman for some funky get rich scheme.  It was the expanding girth, shrouded by a plaid coat and held fast by a brown knotted belt that did it for him.  Try as he did, he just couldn’t imagine the man wielding a staff weapon and commanding armies to “kree” at his every order. 

“You have a ship in orbit,” Tas’lo decreed, flicking his cold, gray gaze to the sky before settling it back on Cam.  “I suggest you return and leave us to go about our business.  Your help is neither wanted nor appreciated.” 

“Not wanted?  Wait.” Cam looked around at the gathered crowd, a mixture of ex-Jaffa warriors and women and children.  “You knew, didn’t you?” he said, steeling his tone and matching Tas’lo’s defiant stare.  “And I’d wager that you’ve got something planned.  Why else would you refuse help without verifying the threat?” 

Tas’lo smiled wryly.  “Our loyalty to the Goa’uld might have been misguided, but it would be a foolish person who turns his back on the valuable resources their demise has left.  We aren’t without means, Colonel Mitchell.” 

“Hey, I’m all for being forewarned and forearmed.  Sound tactics if you ask me,” Cam said. “But how reliable is your intel? `Cause I gotta tell you, I’m not sure you people know exactly what you’re up against here.” 

“Sufficient enough that we know your vessel arrived in the system at the same time as the other.  A coincidence, perhaps?” 

Cam shrugged. “Well, no, but-” 

“Ah, then it must have been a coincidence that only hours after losing contact with the Jaffa settlement on Latan Four, who reported a ship in low orbit above their Chappa’ai, that your vessel and theirs should then enter this system in quick succession, on a course for our planet.” Tas’lo turned away from him and said in a low voice, “Should I assume that you have allied yourselves with these invaders?” 

“What? Of course not!” Cam’s tone sang incredulity. “We arrived shortly after they did!  We were on our way here to-” 

“Ah!” Tas’lo spun back to face him, an accusatory smile tugging at his lips. “So you admit to being aware of their movements!”  
“Ya know, I’ve always thought rational conversation to be a two-sided affair.  Which means that more than one person gets the chance to speak his or her mind.” 

Tas’lo regarded him cautiously for a moment, but nodded once for him to continue.  

“Thanks.  As I was trying to say, we were on our way here to warn you about these guys.  Based on their movements, we’ve managed to narrow down their likely targets to a handful of worlds.  Now they’ve attacked three planets already – four if we count your Jaffa buddies – and killed several SGC personnel. We were hoping we could stop the death toll from rising any further.” 

“So you plan to attack them?” 

“Not if we can avoid it, no.” 

“Then if you aren’t here to help defend this world, why have you come?” 

“We have a fair idea who these people are and possibly what it is they want.  SG-1 is currently aboard their vessel attempting to stop them from attacking this world and any others.  In the meantime, as I said at the start, I’d like to move as many of your people through the gate to safety while we’ve still got a window of opportunity.” 

Tas’lo looked shocked at the suggestion.  “You would prefer we retreat without fighting for our land?” 

Vala, uncharacteristically quiet up to this moment, stepped forward, one hand resting on her P90, the other waving in the air as though she was swatting away unseen bugs.  “Oh, perish the thought!” she sing-songed.  “That would be a most un-Jaffa thing to do, and really, with such a lovely planet as yours,” she nodded to the sun-baked dunes and dead trees beyond the edge of the village, “why wouldn’t you stay and fight? There is one teeny tiny problem with that though.  Minuscule, really.  So small, well, it hardly seems worth the mention, and yet…” 

“Get to the point, Vala,” Cam ground out, nodding tightly and rolling his eyes at her.  “Today, please.” 

“The point?  Right.”  She invaded Tas’lo’s personal space, meeting the old Jaffa face to face.  “The point is that on the last few worlds these charming people attacked – please note that I am using the word ‘people’ very loosely here – they gave the inhabitants scarcely twenty minutes to leave before killing them all.  Poof!”  She mimicked an explosion with her hands. 

“Nothing left.  Totally vaporized!  A quite impressive weapon if it hadn’t been so devastating in its use.” 

“You saw this happen?” 

“Oh, yes.  Quite graphic really,” she said theatrically, before lowering her voice to a whisper.  “Now, I would never suggest that you don’t stay and fight the good fight if you really want to, but send your women and children to a safer location.  I’d hate for there to be no one left to tell the story of your heroic deaths to future generations.” 

She stepped back, keeping her gaze squarely on Tas’lo. 

“Succinct,” Cam muttered under his breath as she took her place beside him. 

“Really?” Vala harrumphed. “I was going for dramatic effect.” 

“Needs work.” 

“And how can we be sure this isn’t a ruse by the Tau’ri to reclaim this world and others?” Vala’s words obviously had had no effect on Tas’lo, who regarded SG-13 with open suspicion.  “It would not be the first time your loyalties have been questioned.” 

“Oh, for… If this is about that whole them versus us incident with the Tok’ra a few years back, then you are way off track here.  Look,” Cam pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes tight—cowboy diplomacy was never his forte, “stay if you want, heck, fight if it makes you feel better, but our only intent here was to warn you of the danger you’re facing in the hopes of saving your sorry asses.” 

“As I stated, we are not without means.  Our brothers sent to investigate the loss of contact from the settlement on Latan Four will be arriving soon to assist in the defense of this world.”

Cam squinted at Tas’lo, lips gathering into the smallest purse.  “There are more ships on the way?”

“I have already told you more than I should have, so if you are not here to assist us in fighting off these invaders, then I would suggest you leave.”

“Ah, hello?” Vala smiled lopsidedly at Tas’lo.  “Aren’t we forgetting something here?  There’s that little matter of getting some of your people safely through the gate.  You know, that whole having someone to sing about your noble deaths?”

“I thought it was heroic?”  Grogan muttered under his breath.

“Oh, pish!” Vala waved his comment away with a flick of her wrist. “Heroic, noble, hardly matters when you’re dead.”

“SG-13, this is the Hammond.”

Cam flinched slightly as his radio sprang to life.  Pushing the button to talk, he turned away from Tas’lo and said, “Go ahead, Hammond.”

“Can you talk, Colonel?”

“One moment.”  He turned to Vala, gaze wandering over to Tas’lo and back.  “I need to…” he tapped his radio. Vala nodded her understanding.

Cam kept his team in sight as he moved away to answer the call from the Hammond.
“Mitchell, here.”

“Colonel.”  Womack’s voice sounded tinny and distant.  “Everything all right down there?”

Cam looked back at the rest of his team.  “About as right as it’s gonna get when you try to displace a whole population,” he replied flatly.  “Any word from SG-1?”

“We’ve been sending out a continuous hail, but nothing so far.”

“Crap.  What about repairs?”

“Sublight engines are still offline.  Engineering reports repairs to the port thruster assembly are complete and gravity has been restored to the fighter bays.  Passive scanners are back online, but we can’t get the shields above thirty percent.”

“Yeah, somehow I don’t even think at one hundred percent they’d do us an ounce of good against these guys.  Hold up.  You say passive scanners are back online? Where would the Jaffa hide a ship if they didn’t want us to see it?”

“They’re limited really.  With no moons, the only obvious location would on the opposite side of the planet to us.  Makes scanning for it almost impossible.  You think the Jaffa have a ship?”

“They do, and they’re planning to go up against these guys.”

“And you’ve told them SG-1 is onboard?”

“They know, but I don’t think they really care at this point.  And that’s not all.  Apparently these aliens made a stop along the way and took out a Jaffa settlement.  Tas’lo has called for reinforcements and says there’s a fleet of ships on their way to help out.  They’ve got that whole Jaffa revenge thing happening here.”  Cam kicked the ground in frustration.  “Tell me we at least have long range communications?  The Odyssey was en-route to PJ6-101 with supplies for the relief effort there, which puts them, what?  A day away at sublight?”

“First thing we did when the mainframe came back up was to shoot out a message to the Odyssey and the SGC informing of them of our situation.”

“And?”

“Nothing.  No answer, and no way of knowing whether they received our message or not.  The server overload has spilled over to the secondary systems and disrupted long range communications. Be grateful we still have the short-range ones.”

“Speaking of which, those bastards are probably listening in on our every word here.”

“That thought had occurred to me.”

Cam scrubbed a hand across his chin, flicking sweat onto the ground.  “I’d kill for some good news right now.”

“Sorry, Cam.  I’d really love to give you some, but the truth is your bad guys did a real number on the ship with that beam of theirs.  I’ve got engineering crews crawling all over the place trying to put Band-Aids on sucking chest wounds, but we’re stretched thin and in no condition to fight.”

“Which makes it all the more urgent we get these people to safety.”

“From the sounds of it, they’re not going to go quietly either.”

“Yeah, well, can’t fault them there.  Since the fall of the Goa’uld and the defeat of the Ori, they’ve pretty much been shoved from pillar to post.  We come along and blow their first piece of stability out of the water.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks, Mitchell out.”

Cam broke the connection and walked back to his team.  “Sorry about that, folks.  Seems I forgot to let the dog out this morning when I left for work.  Darn pooch has made a hell of a mess on the carpets.  How are we all doing here?”

“Just fine thank you, Cameron,” Vala said, directing a wide smile at Tas’lo.  “We were just negotiating, weren’t we?”

Tas’lo flicked his gaze towards the other Jaffa gathered on either side of him and scowled. “Word will be sent to those unable to fight to gather at the Chappa’ai.”  Sniffing with disdain, he straightened and turned to leave, before turning back and seeking out Kal’toc from the rest of SG-13.  “We are allies, yes, but we were brothers first.  I trust you remember that, young warrior.  My people are given into your hands; see that you care for them well.”

~oOo~

“Hammond, this is O’Neill.”

With that single hail, Cheryl Womack felt the knot in her belly ease slightly.  General O’Neill’s welcome call had cut through the bleak silence that had descended over the bridge as crew went about their repair efforts.
Flicking the comm switch on the arm of her command chair, she straightened and replied, “This is the Hammond.  Good to hear your voice, General.  Authentication request whiskey-tango-seven-three-two, respond.”

“Authentication response omega-delta-three-seven-seven.  Can’t get rid of us that easy, Colonel.”
“Was looking grim, sir.  What’s your status?”

“SG-1 present and accounted for.  We’ve established contact with a race called the Renolii and are attempting to open a dialog with them.  In your next data burst to Earth you might want to mention that these guys are the descendants of the Furlings.”
“That could be a problem, sir.”

“Something I should know about, Colonel?”

Womack could feel the gazes of her bridge crew turn on her.  She looked up at the viewscreen; the menacing image of the Renolii ship filled it completely, barely letting any light from the star field behind to filter through. 
“Let’s just say that your sudden exit from the bridge has left us with some issues to deal with.”

“Give it to me straight.  We couldn’t hide a damn thing from these people if we wanted to, Womack.  They are way smarter than us.”

“Yes, sir.  The beam used to transport you to the Renolii vessel had the added effect of disabling some of our critical systems: including shields, artificial gravity in the fighter bays, and long-range communications.  We’re effecting repairs, but it’s slow going.”

“What about the beams?”

“Operational.  Colonel Mitchell insisted we test it out on SG-13 by beaming them to the planet.”
“Any news from them?”

“Nothing encouraging.  The Jaffa aren’t exactly happy or willing to relocate to the Zeta Site and are preparing to defend the planet.”

“With what?” 

“They’ve amassed a fleet.  According to Mitchell, your alien friends made a stop along the way and took out another planet, but not before the Jaffa settlement there managed to get off a distress call.”

“Peachy, so we’re fighting a war on both sides now.”

“Sir?”

“Let’s just say that our hosts are more stubborn than the Jaffa.”

“Diplomacy not working?”

“It takes two to communicate and so far we’ve done most of the talking.  Look, Colonel, I have no idea how successful we’re going to be here so your mission is to get as many people on that planet to safety.  If they won’t go willingly, then you have my permission to beam as many aboard as you can.”

“What about SG-1, sir?”

“We’re safe… for the moment.”

~oOo~

Jack released the comm button and turned back to face the group.  They’d all heard Womack say there was a Jaffa fleet on its way to the system to defend the planet—and flying straight into what was sure to be a slaughter.

Daniel turned back to face the Renolii.  “There are ships on the way to aid the people on the planet—”

“We have been aware of their presence for some time.”

“You... you have?  Of course you have.”  Daniel took a deep breath and let it out. “Look, we want to find a way to resolve this conflict.  Preferably, one that doesn’t involve anyone dying.”

“We intend to reclaim our territory.  If any try to stop us, they will be destroyed.” 

“Many of my people live on the planet below—women, children, and our elders included.  They do not deserve to die,” Teal’c asserted, jaw muscles flexing with tension.

“They are not Furling—they do not concern us.”

Daniel scrubbed a hand down his face.  They were getting nowhere fast, and if that Jaffa fleet arrived and started firing, things were going to get worse in a hurry.  He had no doubt the Renolii not only had the capability to easily wipe them out, they also wouldn’t hesitate to do so. 

He was pretty sure the only reason the Hammond hadn't been destroyed was because they had tried communicating first before opening fire—something the Jaffa ships weren't likely to do.  And the only reason the Earth ship was still in one piece was because he was Furling.  Furling.  How was that even possible?  He didn't think the reality that he wasn't completely human had quite sunk in yet—if it was real.  The Renolii seemed to think so; maybe there was a way he could use that to diffuse the situation. 

Jack caught his eye, raising an eyebrow as he tapped his watch.  Daniel nodded and held up his hand, palm out, silently telling Jack he understood while at the same time asking for his patience. 

“You say that some of your—our—people remained in this galaxy while others left.”

“Yes.”

“Why did they leave, and where did they go?”

“Daniel.” Sam’s voice was hushed but urgent. “Those ships will be here within minutes.”

“Just bear with me, Sam.”

Daniel was aware of the now familiar sensation of the Renolii reaching out to touch his mind. 

They left because the Ancients refused to take responsibility for the evil they loosed upon us—upon this entire galaxy.

Concentrating, he sought out their minds, sending his own message. 

Please, speak out loud so my friends can hear and understand your words.  I trust them—you can, too.

The two Renolii slid their piercing gazes to his teammates, studying them as though seeing them for the first time.

“Very well,” Gray replied aloud, focusing on Daniel again.  “Our ancestors were once part of an alliance of four races, formed to exchange ideas and maintain peace in the galaxy.  However, the Ancients turned their backs on the others, refusing to help when their creation began to overrun the galaxy, wreaking havoc as they went.  Instead, most of the Ancients chose to ascend, something they refused to share with us.  The Nox went into hiding, closing themselves off from the rest of us, and the Asgard were preoccupied with finding a way to preserve their race, while attempting to coexist with these creatures. 

With their territory being overrun and no aid forthcoming from their allies, our ancestors chose to leave this galaxy and start anew.  They built a new society which flourished, and they vowed to never again align themselves with other races, preferring to be self-reliant.”

“What is this scourge you speak of?” Teal’c asked.

Red’s icy blue gaze settled on Teal’c and the alien addressed him for the first time.  “You, more than anyone, should know of whom we speak.  Your race was created to carry their young.”

“Excuse me?” Jack jumped in.  “Did you just say the Ancients created the Goa’uld?”

“They did not learn from the mistake they made in a far-off galaxy.”

Daniel’s head was swimming with the information the Renolii were relating.  The Ancients had created the Goa’uld, just as they had created the Wraith in the Pegasus Galaxy.  And the Renolii had left the alliance, and the galaxy, over it.  Sorting the puzzle pieces in his mind, he found himself focusing on the one piece that was the most personal—his ancestors were part of the clans of Furlings who had stayed behind.  Somehow, they’d made their way to Earth, where they mingled with the human population, their legacy passing down through time to him.  As much as he’d like to pursue that line of thought, there were more pressing matters.

“Why did you come back?” Daniel asked, acutely aware of how fast the seconds were ticking by, but desperately trying to find a way to reach them.

“Our galaxy was being torn apart by the encroachment of another galaxy.  It was decided that we should return to our ancestral home and reclaim the worlds that belong to us.  We hoped to find the descendants of the clans that chose to remain here.”

“That’s why you’re broadcasting to the planets in Furling,” Sam surmised. “To see if any of the clans are still here.”

“We have yet to make contact with any remaining Furling clans,” Gray stated.  “We fear the Goa’uld may have become too powerful and destroyed them.  In the time our people have been gone from this galaxy, we have made great advancements and have become stronger; we are confident we will be victorious in any confrontation with them.” 

“The Goa’uld are no more.”  Teal’c’s words elicited the first flicker of emotion from the aliens, their eyes widening in surprise.

“How was this accomplished?  Did the remaining races of the alliance join once again to defeat them?”

“They did not.  The Tau’ri are largely responsible for their downfall,” Teal’c explained, nodding in the direction of Sam and Jack.  

Daniel saw a hint of wariness in the luminescent blue eyes that were once again examining his teammates, and he wondered if the Renolii were rethinking how much of a threat they might be. 

“We are not here to threaten you,” Daniel placated, “but we would be interested in forming an alliance with you.”

“We have no need to align ourselves with anyone.  Our mission is to continue to prepare these ancestral worlds for the return of our people.”

“And kill thousands of innocent people in the process.”  Jack took a step closer to Daniel, who put out a hand to stop any further advancement.

“Jack.” He put as much warning into the name as he could while still sounding calm. 

“Daniel.  I don’t think your cousins here fully understand the situation.”  The words had an edge to them that didn’t go unnoticed by the Renolii. 

Without warning, the normal humming of the ship’s engines changed pitch, as though it were shifting gears. 

“We’re moving,” Carter stated. 

Daniel could feel it then—the slightest sensation of acceleration.  The Renolii offered no response, but he jumped in and pressed the issue.  “Where are we going?”

“We are preparing to take the planet below.”

“Wait!  That’s what we’ve come to talk to you about.  There are people down there—”

“Of this we are aware.  If they are Furling then we will re-establish our ties with them.  All other species are of no consequence. 

Simple, matter of fact—and chilling.  The Renolii obviously cared nothing for any but their own kind.  Daniel wondered how they were going to negotiate with a race that placed no value on human life.  Although, that was exactly how the Goa’uld had been, and the Ori.  And hadn’t they had great success negotiating with them?  They were in so much trouble here. 

~oOo~

“Master Tas’lo!”  A young Jaffa boy, his forehead bearing the mark of Bast, came to a screeching halt in front of Tas’lo.  “Master Jeh’su says the alien vessel is moving closer to the planet!”

Tas’lo rested a hand on the boys shoulder and thanked him with a stiff nod, dismissing him instantly before turning back towards SG-13, eyes blazing with determination. 

“It appears your colleagues were unsuccessful.”

Mitchell made to reach for his radio but Tas’lo stepped forward and grabbed his wrist, holding it between them.  “The time for talk is over, Colonel Mitchell.  You claim you want to help but you are unwilling to defend this planet.”

“Now see…” Cameron stared hard at his wrist before levelling his gaze a Tas’lo.  “Where I come from we don’t much care for threats and we certainly don’t run around making offers we have no intention of following through on.”  He pulled his wrist free of the Jaffa’s grip and rested it on the top of his weapon. Softening his tone, he added, “The Hammond suffered some damage when SG-1 was beamed off the bridge by the aliens, and Colonel Womack and her crew have been working around the clock to repair her, but right now, she’s in no shape to defend anyone.  Getting your people through the gate to a safe planet is the only help we can offer right now.”

A quiet descended over the small crowd, broken only by Tas’lo’s contentious sniff of the air, an act Cameron took as indication the conversation was over.  The small crowd slowly parted to allow Tas’lo and his Jaffa to pass.

Shrugging as she flicked a ponytail over her shoulder, Vala took a step forward and turned to face Cameron, an apprehensive look on her face.  “I take it we’ve been dismissed?”

“Looks that way,” Cameron replied, reaching for his radio.  “Hammond, this is Mitchell.”

A moment later the radio crackled to life.  “Womack here, Colonel.  We were just about to contact you.  The alien vessel looks like it’s preparing to move into position to broadcast.”

“Yeah, the Jaffa also detected the move and have scattered.  My guess is they’re going up to their ship.”

“Copy that. We received a transmission from General O’Neill only moments ago.  The aliens we’re dealing with here are called the Renolii, and here’s the kicker – they’re descendants of the Furlings.”

“Jackson thought that might be the case.”

“Well, it looks pretty apparent that whatever SG-1 were hoping to achieve with the Renolii has failed.  They haven’t started broadcasting their warning yet, but it’s only a matter of time.  What’s your plan, Colonel?”

Cameron pointed to Vala and then jerked his thumb in the direction of the Stargate.  “Vala is on her way to the gate now to let Colonel Lambert know to expect refugees.” He narrowed his eyes at her disapproving frown. “These people have worked really hard to establish this settlement and I’m not sure how many we can persuade to leave but I’m kinda hoping Kal’toc’s presence might be a deciding factor for them.”

“I can have a team of marines down to you in a matter of minutes if you’d like some extra back-up?”

“Negative.  They’re either going to go willingly or not at all, and I’d prefer to have as few of our own people on the ground as possible.  How go the repairs?”

“Painfully slow.  We’re hoping to have the port thruster assembly back online any moment and the sublight engines shortly after that.  Long range communications are definitely a no-go which, rules out the hopes of getting any back-up from Earth.”

“We’re on our own then.  Business as usual.” Off in the distance, Cam caught sight of the brilliant outward wash of the Stargate being activated as the wormhole settled within the ring.  “Gate’s open and we’re going to start pushing people through.  Mitchell out.”

He turned to Grogan and Kal’toc.  “This is what’s gonna happen.”

~oOo~

The headache that had been Daniel’s constant companion for the past few days had been gone when he woke up on the table, but he felt it winding up again as he listened to the callous words of the Renolii.  His brothers, if what they said was true.  He was still having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he had a Furling gene, not to mention that he was able to hear them in his head. 
 
Pushing those thoughts aside, he struggled to find the words that would reach them—something that would stop them from destroying another planet and wiping out another population.  He couldn’t stop the images of his friends and co-workers being blown into a million pieces from running through his mind.  “Look, in the thousands of years since your ancestors left, other races have made these planets their homes.  Can’t you leave them here in peace and find new, uninhabited planets to live on?”
 
“We have a large database of planets,” Sam offered. “I’m sure we could find some that would be acceptable to your people.” 

Gray tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question, or maybe whether he wanted to answer it or not.  “They belong to us.  This area of the galaxy is our ancestral home.  We are simply reclaiming it.”

“Daniel, the Hammond is between us and that planet.”  Jack’s voice was calm and urgent at the same time.  Daniel noticed he wasn’t bothering to address their hosts anymore; it was obvious they were only responding to him.  It was also obvious that Jack was depending on him to defuse the situation.