Shen
By PeaceHeather - arrantxa at nlci dot com


RATING: Probably FR-T for disturbing themes and violence

CATEGORY: gen, action/adventure, hurt/comfort

PAIRING: none

SPOILERS: none, one-sentence mention of The Other Side (blink and you'll 
miss it)

TIME FRAME: No info given

SUMMARY: The people of Arkona take the concept of slavery to a whole new 
level.  The SGC needs Arkona's naquada supply.  And we know how SG-1 feel 
about slavery...  

ARCHIVE: Alpha Gate and Comfort Zone ONLY.  Anyone else please ask; 
permission usually granted, I just like to know.

DISCLAIMER: The usual -- all regular characters, logos, etc. are retained 
by the owners and producers of Stargate: SG-1.  Original characters, plot 
idea, nifty linguistics, and general philosophizing are mine, mine, mine 
and I expect a FAT royalty check, lots of 'em, if this story gets 
"appropriated" and turned into an episode.  Other than that, it's not for 
sale and no copyright infringement is intended.  (Although if your name 
is Michael Shanks, I'm willing to negotiate -- one writer to another, of 
course...)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Believe it or not, this is NOT the cliched "Daniel sold 
into slavery" plot line!

When this story was originally conceived, I did not plan for a whole lot 
of plot, just Danny-whumping -- but I'd seen episodes with thinner 
premises, so there.  Unfortunately, I've discovered since beginning this 
story that I cannot actually write a short story; the ideas just keep 
growing.

I've tried to keep it from getting out of hand, but if abduction, abuse, 
and brainwashing (not of Daniel) disturb you, you might possibly want to 
pass this story by. Sigh.


                         *******************

The mood around the briefing room table was subdued as SG-1 concluded its 
report of the findings on their recent expedition.  The planet, called 
Arkona by its people, had looked promising; the Arkon people were 
reasonably friendly, amenable to trade, and as it turned out had no use 
for the rich deposits of naquada in the mountains beyond the city.  
Everything should have been perfect, and from a strictly military 
viewpoint Arkona would have been a confirmed ally as of yesterday.  For 
better or worse, the team assigned to meet with the Arkon was not one 
that operated on a strictly military viewpoint.

"The shen are... well, to explain let me just draw your attention to the 
Arkon language for a moment," said Dr. Jackson.  "The word 'ne-shen' 
means object, and the word 'shen-er' means slave - which from a 
linguistic standing is a logical relationship if you assume that slaves 
are property.  But the shen are - I mean, listen to the word, it's 
literally *less than* a shen-er, less than ne-shen.  They're..." He ran a 
hand quickly through his hair in frustration, searching for words that 
the English language didn't have.

"The shen are rare, and extremely valuable property," said Teal'c coldly.  
"The reason for this is that the 'training' necessary to produce a shen 
often leads to death for the slave.  This training begins in childhood.  
Of the seven shen we saw during our visit to Arkona, three were still in 
their adolescence." His expression would have frightened anyone outside 
the confines of the room.  "Their obedience was total."

"It's brainwashing, sir," put in Colonel O'Neill.  "Really, really sick, 
thorough brainwashing. What Teal'c isn't saying is that in about half the 
cases where they die in 'training', it's because they've - I guess shut 
down - because they don't have permission to handle basic bodily 
functions." He looked disgusted.  "As in, their goddamn *kidneys* quit 
because they haven't been *told* to process."  Jack took a deep breath 
and willed his fists to unclench. "Some of the owners are proud of this, 
sir.  One of 'em ordered his shen to stop breathing, just to show off.  
She..." 

"I don't need to know any more, Colonel, thank you," said General Hammond 
with a nod.  "Unfortunately, as you are all well aware, we are under 
extra pressure, again, to produce material evidence of successful 
negotiations with other planets, in order to justify our program's 
continued existence.  Regardless of how you or I feel about their 
culture, the fact remains that the Arkon have large quantities of naquada 
that they don't care about, literally sitting there in the ground waiting 
for someone to come along and mine."

"And that someone gets to be us," finished O'Neill.

"Yes, I'm afraid it does," said Hammond.  "I'm aware of your feelings on 
this matter, people; however, the Pentagon will not have the same empathy 
toward these shen, and will not accept the Arkon's cultural... habits... 
as a valid excuse not to mine the naquada."  He looked around the silent 
room.  "I'm sorry, everyone.  Doctor Jackson?"

Daniel sighed.  "Standard treaty arrangement, I suppose, General?"  At 
Hammond's nod, he slowly stood and gathered his things.  "You'll forgive 
me if this one takes a little longer to draft, sir... and before I get 
started, I'd like to officially register my disgust, no, my absolute 
abhorrence, that any branch of the United States military would even 
think about generating a lucrative trade agreement with a culture that -"

"So noted, Doctor Jackson," interrupted the general.  His voice softened, 
and he sighed.  "So noted."

There was a tense pause, then Daniel nodded.  "Thank you, sir."  He 
turned and, in three long strides, was out the door.

Hammond gazed after him for a moment before saying quietly, "There are 
days when I really don't enjoy this job."  His focus sharpened once more 
as he stood, said "Dismissed," and left the room in the opposite 
direction.

                         *******************

Two hours later, Daniel was still staring at his computer screen and the 
five lines he had managed to type since leaving the briefing.  The treaty 
was completely typical in its wording; the difficulty lay in translating 
to Arkon - not because the language was so hard, but because every time 
he let his mind go there, he started remembering the shen.  As honored 
guests, SG-1 had been invited to stay in the wealthiest quarter of the 
city, where the shen lived almost exclusively - for the simple reason 
that no one else could afford them.  And as honored guests, SG-1 were 
offered the loan of two shen to wait on their every need during their 
stay; luckily, they had managed to turn down the offer without offending 
their hosts.

Daniel shook himself out his musings for what was probably the third 
time, and pushed his chair back from the desk.  "There are days," he 
muttered to himself, "when I really don't enjoy this job..."

"You know, Hammond said the same thing after you left the briefing," came 
Jack's voice, making Daniel jump.  "Sucks, doesn't it?"

Daniel nodded.  "Yes, yes it really does."  He looked up at Jack over the 
top of his glasses.  "I mean, I'm tempted to put some clause in there 
that no one who works the mines is permitted to be a shen, or to have one 
in their... possession."  He made a face, as if the very words had a foul 
taste to them.

"Want to get out of here for a while?"  Jack was leaning up against the 
doorway, dressed in civilian clothes now, but still looking just about as 
disgusted as Daniel felt - as he had, in fact, felt from the moment they 
had first been introduced to this side of Arkon culture.  Daniel shook 
his head.

"I've got to finish this treaty.  Much as I might wish otherwise..."

"Daniel, give it up, I can see from here you don't even have a whole 
paragraph done yet.  Am I right?"  When Daniel only nodded wearily, he 
said, "So, let's go.  O'Malley's - good steak, good beer, good company - 
get your mind off of it for a while."  He raised one eyebrow.  "You know 
you want to."

"Yeah," Daniel sighed.  "Yeah, I do."  He hit the "Save" button on his 
computer.  "Give me ten minutes; I'll meet you up top."

                         *******************

"Major, may I remind you we're supposed to be having fun here?"  O'Neill 
nudged his second-in-command, startling her into looking up at her dinner 
companions.  "I'm sure rearranging your fries is an absolutely 
fascinating exercise and all."

The restaurant was bustling, blues was playing in the background, and a 
group of guys were laughing it up around the pool table in one corner, 
but the cheer couldn't seem to penetrate the mood around SG-1's table.  
No matter what topic came up, the four had dropped into glum silence 
after only a few exchanges.

"Sorry, sir," replied Carter.  "I just can't get my mind off that poor 
girl we saw.  You know, the one shen, the one whose master made her...?" 
She trailed off and looked back at her plate, as Daniel reached out and 
put a hand on her arm.  "I just don't get it - how could anyone *let* 
another person treat them like that?"

"Hell, Carter," sighed O'Neill.  "Why do people join cults?  You know?  
Waco, Jim Jones, those guys?  Why don't they get out once they see it's 
all going down the tubes?"

"I dunno, sir," said Carter miserably.

"Well, I do," retorted Jack.  He leaned forward in his seat.  "Some 
people want others to do their thinking for them - pathetic, but true."

"Wait, Jack, that's not fair, these shen get indoctrinated when they're 
only kids, they can't *want* something like that -"

"Ah, I'm not finished."  Jack held his beer bottle up until Daniel 
subsided.  "People might *join* cults because they want someone to tell 
them what to believe, but they wind up sticking around because those guys 
are *masters* of manipulation.  Mess with your head long enough and 
before long you *can't* think for yourself."  He took a sip, twirled the 
bottle in his hands.  "You guys ever hear of Stockholm Syndrome?"

Teal'c said, "I have not."

Daniel frowned.  "Sounds familiar, but I can't think where from."

"It was named for an incident in Stockholm, Sweden that became famous," 
said Sam.  "There was a bank robbery where the people inside were held 
hostage for six days.  When the standoff ended, some of the victims 
fought against the police who had come to rescue them, and later on they 
refused to testify at the robbers' trial."

"Wait, you mean like the Patty Hearst kidnapping, right?  Where she wound 
up joining her abductors' political movement or something, a few months 
after she was rescued?"

"Very similar, yes," said Sam.

"Did not the hostages fight rescue because the robbers had frightened 
them into submission?" asked Teal'c.

"Yes and no, big guy," answered Jack.  "In a hostage situation, people do 
anything to survive - you can't keep things in perspective.  Any little 
thing your captor does that seems at all friendly, like *not* killing 
you, gets blown out of proportion until you start to think that, hey, 
these guys are great.  You do anything to stay on their good side, 
naturally; but you start telling yourself that it's because these people 
are your friends.  You start fighting anything that might threaten to 
unbalance the situation.  A rescue is definitely a threat, so..." He 
shrugged.

"So," Sam said carefully, "you're saying these shen are obedient because 
they've been conditioned - conditioned through abuse - to think that 
their masters are wonderful people?"  She shook her head.  "I don't know 
if I'll ever really understand it, sir.  It would make sense if they were 
still hostages, but they're surrounded by people who aren't forced 
into... into total subjugation, the way they are."

"But they are still hostages, Sam," said Daniel gently.  "Even though 
only a few people can afford to own a shen, their whole culture supports 
this as the norm.  I bet if we looked, we'd find stories where escaped 
slaves were found and punished by other shen themselves."

The table was silent for a moment.

"Well, so trying not to talk about it sure as hell isn't working, is it?" 
groused Jack.  He looked at each of his teammates.  "This sucks.  And I 
mean this really sucks. I haven't seen Hammond look so miserable since 
Euronda."

"There's no way out of this, is there?" said Daniel.  For just a second, 
he looked exhausted, worn out utterly from years of fighting against the 
mindset that kept them in contact with planets and cultures like Arkona.

"God, I wish," said Jack.

"Me too," came Sam's immediate response, followed by Teal'c's "As do I."

                         *******************

The passage of three days found SG-1 stepping through the Gate once more 
to Arkona, treaty in hand, to participate in the ceremonies that would 
formalize their trade agreement.  The Arkon were especially interested in 
studying agricultural advances that would permit them larger crop yields 
in the stony, scrub-covered grounds outside their cities.  The colonel 
could care less - it would be mostly Daniel's show, and Jack was only 
really here to keep an eye on him until the formalities were concluded.  
As far as he was concerned, the Arkon were willing to trade digging in 
the ground for naquada, in order to learn to dig in the ground for beans.

When he turned to share his wit with Daniel, he found the linguist 
trudging along beside him with a notepad in hand, muttering under his 
breath.

"Daniel?"

"Hm?  Oh, just making sure I've got the different class designations 
right for the Arkon hierarchical structure."  He held up his notepad.  
"Kind of like trying to remember the difference between a general, a 
major general, and a brigadier general, except they all rhyme."

"How do you say 'don't trip over your own two feet' in Arkon?"

"Very funny, Jack."

"I believe the correct phrasing is 'kan'au nash ta ferna hau', O'Neill."  
Teal'c fell into step on Dr. Jackson's other side.  "Is that not so, 
Daniel Jackson?"

"Wait a minute, since when do you speak Arkon!"

"Close, Teal'c, it's actually, 'kan'au-jia nash ta ferna hau-jia', where 
the 'jia' implies both ownership for your feet, and personal command for 
tripping..." Daniel tapped his chin with the notepad.  "Hmm, ownership 
and command... you know, that's an interesting connection, wonder why I 
missed it before?"

"'Scuse me.  Teal'c?"

"O'Neill, you were present when Daniel Jackson and I agreed that it would 
be helpful for a second member of SG-1 to possess rudimentary ability in 
this language, since Daniel Jackson will be, as you say, 'tied up' in 
negotiations for much of the day."

Jack ignored the smug face marching along over Daniel's right shoulder.  
"What, so you can say, 'Pardon me, where is the bathroom?'

"'Sharma-ko, go-sherna tamvak'au', O'Neill."

Jack ignored Carter's badly disguised snort of laughter from somewhere 
vaguely up ahead of them.

"Er, actually I think 'tamvak' is 'bath house', if you wanted 'bathroom' 
it would be 'nesh-tersha'.  I think."

"Thank you, Daniel Jackson."

"Oh, for crying out loud."

"Sir, the fork in the road is just ahead."

The team drew closer to the city.

                         *******************

Sunset was nearing as SG-1 finally approached the gate of the nearest 
city on Arkona, named for its ruling family, the Shad'aa.  As far as 
Daniel had been able to determine, the politics on this world were 
similar to that of Renaissance-era Italy, with a number of city-states 
ruled independently by wealthy families, connected by a tangled network 
of alliances and rivalries.

That network was simultaneously the challenge and the advantage of 
arranging a trade for naquada on Arkona.  None of the city-states had any 
use for the mineral, and without a centralized authority there was no one 
that SG-1 had to go to for permission; to the Arkon, it was like trading 
dirt for valuable technology.  So on one hand, it should be easy to 
convince everyone involved to cooperate, keep their politics out of the 
way, and focus on the universal benefits; on the other, it was entirely 
possible that some families would oppose trade simply to prevent their 
rivals from gaining some perceived advance in status.  At this point, 
Daniel could only wait and hope.  "No pressure," he thought wryly.

So far, the other city-states had been amenable to permitting the team to 
remain the guests of the Shad'aa, as opposed to demanding that everyone 
take turns sharing the prestige of hosting visitors from the Eye of the 
Heavens.  With luck, the same common sense and desire for practicality 
would prevail in the coming days.

The guards along the city wall had seen their approach about fifteen 
minutes ago, and once they were within easy shouting distance began to 
hail them from the balcony over the main gate.  When Daniel shouted a 
greeting in return, the enormous studded wooden doors began to swing 
open, coming to a stop just as the team reached the shadow of the wall.  
The lights of the city gleamed through the archway before them.

Passing under the balcony, the team immediately felt the bustle of 
civilization wash over them.  Cobbled streets and stone buildings were 
alight with glowing spheres that floated on tethers outside windows and 
above shop awnings, bobbing and swaying gently in the swirl of the crowd.  
Brightly dressed nadharma, or middle-class workers, jostled elbow-to-
elbow with poorer tuarma, various ranks of shen-er slaves, and the 
occasional noble and entourage.  Generically called "sharma", there were 
as many subsets of noble as there were groupings among the nadharma, and 
they weren't nearly as easy to tell apart from one another as the other 
classes.  It was lucky that the outer part of the city consisted almost 
entirely of nadharma and tuarma - the "working stiffs" as Jack liked to 
call them.

A guard had come down to street level to meet them.  "I bid you good 
evening, sharma travelers!"

"A good evening to you as well, nadharma guard," answered Daniel.

"Forgive my curiosity, sharma, but the rumor is that there is to be trade 
between your world and ours.  This news, perhaps, is true?"

"It is our hope, nadharma, but truly the decision depends on the wish of 
Sharma Shad'aa and the sharma of the other cities."

"Of course, sharma.  May you have good fortune during your stay."  The 
guard grinned at them all.  "You are, perhaps, to be the guests of Sharma 
Shad'aa once more?"

"If the Sharma will have us, then we would be honored to be his guests.  
Does he know we have arrived?"

"We sent a runner as soon as you were spotted, sharma travelers.  If you 
will wait here for only a moment, someone from House Shad'aa will come to 
take you through the city.  They say it will storm tomorrow, so you can 
see that the market is twice as busy tonight.  Very easy to get lost if 
you are new to the city!"

"Thank you, nadharma, for your keen eye and giving spirit."  At the 
guard's bow, Daniel turned to his teammates and gave them a quick summary 
of the conversation.

"What's with all the sharma this and sharma that?" asked Jack.

"They assume that since we're from another world and are the honored 
guests of their nobles, we must be nobles ourselves... and anyway, better 
to flatter someone by assuming that they're of a high rank, than risk 
insulting them with a lower title than they deserve."

"He was certainly right about the crowd," said Sam.  "We'd be lucky to 
make it a block without getting pulled off course by the traffic."

"Sula," said the guard suddenly.  His eyebrows were arched in surprise, 
as he stared into the throng across the street.

"Um, loosely translated, that's 'wow'," offered Daniel.  He peered into 
the deepening gloom, but saw nothing.  "Nadharma guard?  What is it?"

"Your escort, sharma," he replied.  "I do not think I have seen one in 
this part of the city in months."

The people nearest the gatehouse were stepping out of the way and then 
returning to their business, as a slim woman wearing the red and gold of 
the Shad'aa family and his staff walked toward them.  She kept her eyes 
down and her hands clasped together over her belly.  Beneath the rich 
vest, she wore a hip-length tunic over simple leggings that reached to 
mid-calf, and no shoes.  When she reached the gate, she dropped to her 
knees and placed her forehead against the ground.  Daniel glanced at his 
teammates.

The guard, sensing their uncertainty, moved until he stood over the woman 
on the ground, and said, "Stand and speak!"

Daniel noticed that her hands never left her belly as she rose to her 
feet.  Her eyes also never left the ground, but she murmured so that 
Daniel could just hear:

"Sharma-nadharma, this one is sent to escort the sharma travelers from 
the Eye of the Heavens."

"This one" - Daniel had heard only one class refer to themselves that 
way.

She was shen.

                         *******************

The guard pointed to the four who stood in the archway.  "These are the 
sharma travelers.  They don't know the city - don't let them lose track 
of you."  Turning to Daniel, he added, "If there is anything else you 
need, sharma travelers, all you have to do is tell her.  Surely, Sharma 
Shad'aa wishes you great honor, to send his shen to guide you."

"Ah... yes, nadharma, thank you.  You have been very helpful."  With a 
bow, he looked at his companions.  "Are we ready?"

Jack adjusted his pack, Sam stepped forward into the street, and 
immediately the shen hopped in front of her, gaze still on the 
cobblestones, and began to walk.  Jack waved Daniel up to walk beside the 
major, and he and Teal'c fell in behind.

Sam leaned over to murmur in Daniel's ear, "I wonder what we're supposed 
to call her."

"Well, with the other classes, if you don't know a person's name you can 
just refer to them by their class, so when in doubt I guess 'shen' would 
be fine."  Daniel shrugged, tucking his notepad back into a vest pocket.  
The woman tipped her head for a moment, as if listening, but did not 
pause in her stride.

"It just sounds like an insult, I guess," said Carter, wrinkling her 
nose.  "You know, like saying, 'hey, linguist,' or something."

"To be honest, I'm trying to figure out how it is that they're regarded 
as something even less than domesticated animals, and yet to send one to 
escort us is supposed to be a great honor.  At least, that's what the 
guard said."

"Status symbol?" asked Sam.  "Like, arranging for a limo to pick someone 
up when you can't be there in person?"

"Yes, I suppose that's the logic."  The little procession paused while a 
knot of young men passed in front of them, laughing out loud and leaning 
on one another with bottles waving in the air.

Daniel raised his voice so the shen could hear him.  "Is it always so 
crowded in the city at night?"

"If the sharma traveler is, perhaps, displeased, may this one find a 
quieter path to Shad'aa House?"

"No no, we're not displeased; ah, you're doing well.  We, uh, we came 
from the Eye of the Heavens, so we don't know the city well."

"This one is sorry - this one was told by the sharma-nadharma guard. This 
one begs the sharma traveler not to punish her."

"What?  No - no, I don't want to punish you, I -" Daniel took a breath 
and tried again.  "Look, the market, is it always so full of people?"

The shen walked a few steps in silence, then said.  "This one does not 
know.  This one is not often sent to the market.  This one is sorry that 
she can not answer the sharma traveler."  Greatly daring, she added, 
"This one has... overheard... that, perhaps, more people have come to 
Shad'aa to celebrate a new alliance, between the sharma of all the cities 
and the sharma travelers from the Eye of the Heavens.  This one does not 
know if that is true."

"Daniel?  Something we should know about?"

"Hm?  Oh.  Well, I was asking why the market was so crowded, and she says 
that it might be because there are people coming in to celebrate the 
trade agreement."

"Sounds promising."

The street ahead was blocked by a large crowd spilling from under a 
brightly lit awning, from which Daniel could hear music, high and wild.  
He tried to peer over shoulders to spot the musicians, but the shen 
sidestepped toward an alley and kept walking, her red-and-gold vest 
glinting in the ambient glow.

"Oh..."

"No, Daniel.  We'll have time later."

Carter caught a glimpse of her friend's expression, and murmured, "The 
Colonel's right, Daniel; besides, I can't stand the thought of ordering 
her to wait for even a minute.  She looks..." Sam sighed.  "She reminds 
me of a friend of mine whose boyfriend used to hit her.  Scared of 
everything, like no matter what she does it will still be the wrong 
thing."

"The sharma travelers, perhaps, prefer to stop?"

"Uh, no, we'll continue.  Uh, thank you."

They stepped out of the alley and onto a slightly less-packed street, and 
the shen guided them further into the city.  Here the floating lights 
were spaced a little farther apart, and the crowd of shoppers spoke in 
quieter tones; Daniel spotted several couples with linked arms, and one 
musician on a corner playing an instrument that would have been drowned 
out in the racket just one block over.

"May this one speak?"  The voice interrupted Daniel's observations.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"This one begs permission to speak to the sharma traveler."

"Oh.  Of course.  What did you want to say?"

"The sharma travelers, perhaps, do not know that it is not proper to 
thank a shen?"

"It isn't? Why not?"

"This one is shen.  This one... a shen does as the sharma commands.  The 
sharma, perhaps, does not thank a chair when he sits?"

"But you're not a chair."

"This one is not a chair.  This one is shen.  Shen are not worthy of 
courtesy from the sharma."

Daniel frowned.  "But how are shen rewarded when they do well?"

She said simply, "This one is not punished.  Or, perhaps, this one is 
punished, as the sharma wishes."

The remainder of their trip to the noble quarter was completed in 
silence.

                         *******************

The courtyard of House Shad'aa was awash in golden lights, floating high 
over the glazed-brick walls and swaying among the branches of the 
decorative trees.  The arched gateway stood open to them, and the guard 
on duty bowed low as they passed.  

Inside, Daniel immediately began identifying all the sharma who were 
present, pointing them out to his teammates one by one:

Standing beside the lily-pool, he spotted the green and copper robes of 
Sharma Per'ua, an amiable woman who was very excited about the farming 
opportunities Sam had presented on their first visit.  She was chatting 
with Sharma Nadhesh, very tall, very golden (his colors, gold and black, 
were impossible to miss in the glow-light), and so far very neutral in 
all their discussions.  Daniel suspected he was a rival of Shad'aa, but 
had been unable to find out for certain.

A little farther in, Daniel noticed the brooding Sharma Kona'a, looking 
more regal than the others in his House colors of blue and silver, 
sampling something from a tray carried by a servant wearing Shad'aa's red 
and gold.  Kona'a tended not to speak often, and the others often gave 
his opinions a lot of thought; Daniel, however, could not bring himself 
to feel at all warm toward the man.  His was the shen who had collapsed 
after being commanded to stop her breath for his, and presumably their, 
amusement.  Kona'a had only clicked his tongue in annoyance, and when the 
poor girl regained consciousness he ordered her back to his chambers to 
be punished.  Once she was on her feet, he had simply laughed and watched 
her stagger away.

Speaking of the shen... Daniel looked around.  All the sharma would be 
certain to have as many displays of wealth and status with them at this 
gathering as possible; sure enough, he found the ones belonging to Per'ua 
and Nadhesh standing side by side in the shadows near the pool; after a 
moment, he realized that Kona'a was holding a fine chain, no thicker than 
a silk thread, and that it led to a crouched figure on the ground beside 
him, barefoot and wearing his House colors.  He made a face, leaning in 
to speak to Sam.

"Is he punishing her some more, or just showing off?"

Sam shook her head, clearly biting her tongue, as Teal'c moved to stand 
beside her.  His eyes scanned the courtyard continuously, alert without 
appearing to be on edge, while Jack moved to stand beside Daniel.  He 
nodded toward the shen who had led them through the city; she had 
continued across the courtyard and was kneeling at the foot of the steps 
before Sharma Shad'aa.  Apparently in his sixties, he was older than the 
other sharma, probably closest in age to Per'ua; he wore his silver hair 
pulled back into a tail bound with red and gold cord.  He spoke to the 
shen for a moment, then swept down the stairs and across the courtyard 
with her at his heels.

"Sharma travelers, I greet you.  You honor my House with your presence 
this night."

Daniel cleared his throat and began the "double" conversation, 
alternating between English and Arkon as the team exchanged greetings 
with the noble.

"Sharma Shad'aa, your hospitality is an honor to us, and we are grateful.  
We have heard that, perhaps, you would have us as your guests once more?"

"Sharma Daniel, you have heard correctly.  All is prepared, and I have 
kept food and music aside awaiting your arrival.  The walk from the Eye 
of the Heavens is long; the travelers are, perhaps, ready to find your 
chambers for the night?"

"What do you think, Jack?"

"We can drop our stuff and come back, if that won't offend His Sharma-
ness."

"Sharma Jack will, perhaps, permit me to show you the way to your 
chambers?  There is a request I would make of you, which concerns your 
customs."

Jack's eyebrow began a slow climb.  "Tell him to lead on, and see if you 
can figure out what the deal is."

Shad'aa took them along a side path out of the courtyard, rather than 
leading them up the steps.  Daniel had learned on their last visit that 
the main entrance to the house had ceremonial function as well as 
practical.  If SG-1 were to go that way, they would be required to stop 
and formally greet all the sharma who were present; on the other hand, if 
they avoided the stairs, then they hadn't "officially" arrived yet, and 
could make their way to their rooms without interruption.  Sam had smiled 
the first time that he explained the custom and said, "So everyone is 
guaranteed to make a grand entrance, huh?"

Once they were out of sight of the courtyard, Daniel asked, "The Sharma 
Shad'aa will, perhaps, tell us what concerns him of our customs?"

"Of course, Sharma Daniel.  We are aware that your people do not keep 
shen-er as we do - be at peace, I am not offended!  It is only that, 
while you were certainly courteous, I nonetheless had no difficulty in 
reading your discomfort, especially your discomfort toward the shen.  It 
is this which concerns me."

"In what way, Sharma Shad'aa?"

"This gathering will determine whether or not there is trade between the 
people of your world and the people of Arkona.  Such an important 
agreement must be seen to be made between sharma of equal rank; also, as 
your host, custom demands that I extend to you every courtesy..."

"I believe I understand; the Sharma Shad'aa, perhaps, requests that we 
permit your shen to serve us during our visit?"

"Just so, Sharma Daniel," nodded Shad'aa.  "You have a keen eye."  He 
glanced at them all once before continuing, "However, it occurs to me 
that it need not be my shen which attends you - already, your presence 
honors my House and the city.  If you were to request a shen from any of 
the other sharma, they would be equally honored by the opportunity to 
assist you in... maintaining your proper display of status."

"Just a moment, please, Sharma Shad'aa."  Daniel explained the Sharma's 
dilemma, then said, "What do you think?"

"There are four of us," said Sam.  "How many shen does Arkon custom say 
we have to have?"

"As you are all perceived as belonging to one House," said Shad'aa after 
Daniel translated, "and as we do not wish to offend against your customs, 
one shen should be enough to satisfy protocol.  Or two, if you were to 
spend much time apart from one another."

"Politics," muttered Jack.

"Protocol, Jack."

"Protocol *is* politics, Daniel," he retorted.  "Is it gonna offend him 
if we take the wrong guy's shen for the next few days?  I mean, doesn't 
this play into their whole inter-House rivalry thing they got going on?"

"Mm, good point..." He pushed at his glasses.  "Sharma Shad'aa, would we, 
perhaps, offend your House if we were to choose the shen of a rival House 
to attend us?"

Shad'aa chuckled.  "In truth, Sharma Daniel, if you guested in my house 
while using the shen of a rival, everyone would think you great and wise 
players of the inter-House intrigue.  I regret to tell you, however, that 
House Shad'aa has no rivals with any interest in the naquada trade in 
this region."

He began to tick off points on his fingers as he walked.  "Per'ua is a 
childhood friend of mine; Nadhesh has only recently inherited his 
position and remains neutral to all in order to avoid a wrong decision; 
and Kona'a and Shad'aa forces jointly patrol the regional border to the 
north.  Nadhesh and Kona'a dislike one another; if they were ever to 
ally, they might threaten the position of the Shad'aa, but even if that 
happened, Per'ua would ally with me and the current balance would be 
maintained."

"In sum," he smiled, "Sharma Daniel may choose as he wishes."  The little 
group had been walking slowly along the boardwalk that rounded the 
outside of the house; now they turned the corner, and the shen moved 
forward to open doors to two rooms side by side.  Immediately opposite 
these, the left side of the boardwalk continued in a hip-high railing 
that overlooked a grouping of fruit trees.

"We must think on this, Sharma Shad'aa," said Daniel.  "If it is 
acceptable, we will arrange our belongings and dress in more appropriate 
attire for the gathering, then come to you with our answer?"

"Of course," said the sharma.  "When you are ready, simply return the way 
you have come, and walk to the foot of the steps.  We will conduct formal 
greetings on the stair, and you may announce your decision then."  He 
bowed to each of them in turn.  "Once again, I thank the sharma from the 
Eye of the Heavens for consenting to rest within the home of House 
Shad'aa.  You honor my House and the city."

When he had gone, Jack tipped his head toward the first of the rooms, and 
they went in.

"I have an idea," he said.

                         *******************

Sam stood next to Daniel in her dress blues, with the colonel and Teal'c 
slightly below them, on the steps leading between Shad'aa House and the 
courtyard.  Daniel was their translator, and thus the chief diplomat 
during the upcoming negotiations, while, as the team's scientist, she 
represented the technology the sharma stood to gain if they agreed to 
mine the naquada deposits for Earth.  She was optimistic about the 
treaty's chances of success - in some places that they had explored, 
"mining" consisted of kicking the soil and picking up the largest clumps, 
dense with the weight of naquada ore.

The colonel's plan had seemed watertight on the surface; at least, none 
of them had been able to think of any serious objections other than the 
obvious one, of being required to keep a shen in the first place.  Now, 
however, she watched as Daniel wove his way through the opening 
formalities, and began to wonder.  His gentle voice rose and fell, at 
ease with the Arkon tongue, and she caught the names of the various 
sharma as he greeted them, one by one... and then the words, "shen 
Kona'a" passed his lips.  The sharma in the blue and silver robes bowed 
smoothly, but the smile on his face seemed to fix in place for just a 
moment.  Sam glanced around, immediately gauging the reactions of the 
other nobles.

Sharma Shad'aa seemed perfectly calm, as if he had expected them to make 
this exact choice; indeed, she thought, that was entirely possible.  The 
older woman, Per'ua, narrowed her eyes for a moment, but then nodded 
slowly to herself as if she had just realized something important; but 
the younger man, Nadhesh, frowned and blinked at the ground.  He seemed 
to be fighting to maintain his composure; after a moment's thought, Sam 
remembered what Shad'aa had told them.

"Daniel," she said softly, "when this is over you might want to have a 
chat with the guy in gold and black... I think he's just been insulted."

"Yeah, well, for a guy whose House I've supposedly just honored, our 
fellow in blue doesn't seem too thrilled either," he replied, nodding at 
one of the nobles' comments for a moment before fixing her with a serious 
look.

"Probably mad that you're taking his favorite toy away from him for a 
whole week," she offered, then joined him when he smiled.

Shad'aa stepped forward and said something, which seemed to conclude the 
welcome ceremonies; as soon as he finished, a trio of musicians seated on 
a nearby boulder began to play, and servants stepped into the courtyard 
bearing pitchers and cups, or platters heaped with delicacies.

As the food and drink began to circulate, Sam and Daniel stepped down 
into the courtyard and were immediately surrounded by people.  She could 
just make out the colonel accosting one of the servants and eyeing the 
snacks happily, while Teal'c looked like he was practicing Arkon with 
another; Per'ua and Nadhesh had resumed their conversation off to one 
side, and Shad'aa was approaching Daniel.

Under pretense of searching out something to drink, Sam stepped a little 
farther into the courtyard and looked around until she spotted Kona'a.  
Half-hidden in the shadows, he had his shen pressed up against the trunk 
of a tree and was leaning the length of his body against hers; with one 
hand gripping her hair, he leaned forward to speak into her ear for a 
moment before flinging his end of the leash at a servant standing nearby.

Sam managed to find her way to a drink pitcher just as Kona'a turned and 
moved back toward the party.  By the time he reached the center of the 
courtyard, his face was calm, but she could see that his eyes were still 
sparking with... what?  Lust? Jealousy?  "Not good, either way," she 
thought to herself.

Keeping what she called her "political smile" in place, she caught the 
colonel's eye and began to work her way toward him.  She had a headache 
coming on, along with the feeling that it was going to be a long week.

                         *******************

Daniel had three little hors d'oeuvres-thingies in his hand, and the 
distinct impression that he wouldn't have the chance to actually eat any 
of them before they went mushy... or whatever it was that hors d'oeuvres 
did when you couldn't eat them anymore.

The waiting crowd had turned out to include representatives of a handful 
of minor sharma, from farther out than the cities that Per'ua, Nadhesh, 
and Kona'a ruled.  All of them wanted to extend their own greetings on 
behalf of their lords or ladies, some wanted to immediately jump into 
discussing agendas for the negotiations, and a few had missed SG-1's 
first visit and simply wanted to meet the "Sharma of the Eye of the 
Heavens".  Daniel sighed.  He had a headache coming on.

He felt a touch on his elbow, and turned to see a servant in the green 
and copper of House Per'ua bowing at him.  "My lady thought, perhaps, 
Sharma Daniel would like to join her in conversation near the pool?"

Looking past the servant, Daniel spotted Per'ua in the same seat she had 
occupied before the ceremonies, with Nadhesh standing next to her.  The 
two of them were talking, Nadhesh gesturing agitatedly.  "I would be 
honored to join Sharma Per'ua, but would I, perhaps, interrupt her 
conversation with Sharma Nadhesh?"

"My lady instructs me to tell you that it is for Sharma Nadhesh that she 
asks you to join her," replied the servant.

"I see," said Daniel, who actually didn't.  As he approached the two 
sharma, he heard Per'ua saying, "Ah, but Nadhesh, if you came from a 
place that did not keep shen-er, whose would you choose to satisfy 
protocol?"

Daniel cleared his throat.  "Am I... I mean, I am, perhaps, 
interrupting?"

Per'ua turned and stood to bow to Daniel, and beckoned him closer.  "Not 
at all, Sharma Daniel.  Please, sit down."  She smiled.  "And you should, 
if I may suggest, eat those ket're before they grow much colder."

Daniel ducked his head.  "I have studied many cultures, and in nearly all 
of them it is considered not proper to eat and speak at the same time; 
but often, it is also not proper to eat instead of speaking, nor to speak 
instead of eating."

Per'ua chuckled, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening.  "And Sharma 
Daniel, perhaps, is never rude if it can be avoided?"

"Um..." Daniel pushed at his glasses.  "I was very rude, once, to an 
enemy who wanted to... ah... I am not sure of the correct word in your 
tongue, but please believe that he wished also to be very rude to me."

He risked a glance at the other noble, while Per'ua laughed delightedly.  
Nadhesh's robes glimmered as he shifted from foot to foot.  "Sharma 
Per'ua was just trying to persuade me that you intended no insult to my 
House, during the greeting ceremony."

Daniel nodded.  "This is true.  Sharma Shad'aa instructed us, just before 
the ceremony, that we should keep a shen during our visit.  It... is not 
our custom.  I would prefer not to do this, but since it was 
necessary..." He frowned for a moment.  "I noticed that neither of you 
keep your shen on a chain."

"Is it not just as I have told you, Nadhesh?" asked Per'ua.

"But you realize that Kona'a and I are rivals?" persisted the young man.

"I do," Daniel sighed.  "And I am sorry for that.  But," he added, 
choosing his words carefully, "Sharma Nadhesh noticed, perhaps, that 
while I may have honored House Kona'a, the sharma himself did not look 
pleased?"

Nadhesh became thoughtful for a moment, then said slowly, "I... am 
uncertain whether you have no idea how to play the inter-House game of 
intrigue, or if you are, truly, a much greater player than I could hope 
to be."

"Sharma Nadhesh, my friend Jack would tell you that, most often, I either 
refuse to play such games, or I insist on changing their rules." Daniel 
smiled.  "He would also tell you that this is why his hair is silver - 
but since I refuse to believe that part, neither should you."

As Nadhesh nodded, then bowed, Per'ua laid a hand on Daniel's elbow and 
said, "Eat your ket're."

                         *******************

Daniel yawned, earning him a look from Jack as SG-1 made their way back 
to the rooms set aside for them.  Greetings had been given and received, 
food eaten, drinks drunk, and now it was late even by "Earth Standard 
Time".  The team knew from their last visit that the waiting beds would 
be comfortable, and they all were looking forward to falling into them 
until morning.

They had discovered that each of their two rooms was actually a suite, 
with an internal door connecting them.  Jack had been pleased, commenting 
that it let them visit one another without having to step out onto the 
covered boardwalk that served as a corridor around the outside of Shad'aa 
House.  The suites themselves each consisted of a "public" room for 
entertaining visitors or hosting meetings, an enormous bath chamber, and 
two private bedrooms.  At the moment, Daniel couldn't remember if he was 
sharing his suite with Jack, per usual, or if he and Sam were paired as 
the "senior diplomats" on this mission.  Not that he cared, either way.

In a daze, he mumbled his goodnights to his friends, pushed open the door 
to his bedroom - and froze.  There was someone else in the room.

Daniel passed his hand over the glow-sphere, and as it brightened he 
spotted the form crouched in the far corner, forehead touching the floor.  
He called softly, "Hello?" and watched in shock as the body flinched.

"Daniel?"  Jack was there, standing at his shoulder and peering into the 
bedroom.  Daniel nodded toward the figure in the corner.

"Ah."

"Jack?"

"Bet that's your shen."  He took in the surroundings, sighed.  "Please 
tell me she's not expected to... that you're not expected to..."

"To?"

"You know."

Daniel's eyebrows rose.  "Even if we are expected to, we're not going 
to."

"Didn't think so," nodded Jack.

"Good."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Do?"  Daniel needed sleep; echoing whatever Jack said was never a good 
thing.

"Do," frowned Jack.  "With her."  He nodded toward the girl, who hadn't 
moved.

"Um..." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to wake up.  "Per'ua 
gave me some advice."

"Advice."  Well, Daniel thought, at least Jack was tired too.

"Yeah, um... mostly to, um, be gentle."  He winced.  "Not... not like 
that."

"You mean the whole brainwashed obedience thing?"

"Yeah," Daniel nodded tiredly.  "That."

"Ah."

Daniel blinked.  "Ah?"

"'Ah,' as in, good luck.  Better you than me.  Go, linguist, go."  Jack 
yawned.  "You know - ah."

Daniel looked at Jack in disbelief.  "Ah."

Jack shuffled off to bed, and Daniel looked at the shen in the corner.  
"Ah, he says."  He pulled the door closed, and crossed over to the bed.  
He did his best to move slowly, not wanting to frighten the young woman 
if she wasn't already scared of him, and not wanting to make it worse if 
she was.

He sat on the edge of the bed and regarded her.  "Shen," he said quietly, 
remembering Per'ua's suggestions.  "Stand."

The woman immediately rocked back onto her feet and rose; her gaze was 
locked onto the floor, and she kept her hands clasped in front of her 
belly, just like the shen who had met them at the gate had done.  This 
one, however, had removed her House colors, and stood before him in only 
a cream-colored knee-length tunic and calf-length loose pants.  Her hair 
was black, although Daniel suspected it had been dyed to match her 
master's coloring; he couldn't see her eyes.

He rubbed at his eyes again.  What were Per'ua's exact words?  "Shen, 
have you... mm... attended your body yet today?"  Her headshake was 
quick, timid, more of a flinch than a gesture.  "Have you eaten?"  
Another headshake, and now she was starting to tremble.  Daniel sighed; 
given the way he'd seen Kona'a treating her publicly, who knew what he 
did to her in private?

With any luck, he could remember the right commands to get this, this 
creature to eat something, take care of her own body's needs, and get a 
decent night's sleep. "Commands," he thought with disgust.  Recalling 
some refreshments that had been left for them in the public room, Daniel 
got up to bring them in, but a quickly stifled whimper stopped him in his 
tracks.

"Shen?"  He turned to stare at her.  "Is something wrong?"  She didn't 
answer, but he could see her throat work as she swallowed.  She was 
supposed to answer... what... Daniel gritted his teeth for a moment.  "I 
am sorry, I forgot - you, you are allowed to speak now.  In fact," he 
added, "anytime you are attending me, or any of my three friends, you are 
always allowed to speak.  Do you understand?"

"This one... understands, sh-sharma," she whispered.

"Good," he said softly.  "That's very good."  He just barely caught the 
expression of relief that flitted across her face before it vanished.  
"You seem," Daniel paused and rephrased, "I have, perhaps, done something 
to frighten you?"

"This one, perhaps, has displeased the sh-sharma," she replied.  He could 
see her fighting to make herself talk, and his pity grew.  "The sharma, 
perhaps, will p-punish this one - perhaps he w-waits and hides his anger 
until it is not expected."

"No," he said.  "No, I don't plan to punish you at all.  It... is not my 
custom."  He looked at her carefully.  "Why would you believe such a 
thing?"

"Sharma Kona'a has told this one that Sharma... that the sharma from the 
Eye of the Heavens..."

"Please, call me Daniel."

The girl swallowed again.  "Sharma Kona'a has told this one that Sh-
sharma Daniel, perhaps, despises the shen."

Daniel shook his head.  "Sharma Kona'a is mistaken," he tried to explain, 
sitting on the bed once more.  "My people... we do not keep shen-er of 
any kind.  We do have classes, something like the nadharma and tuarma, 
but we think it is wrong for one person to own another."  He rubbed his 
eyes again, feeling his headache starting to return.  "If I despise 
anything, it is the idea that owning another person is, is proper.  Does 
that make sense?"

"Sharma Daniel has... different customs."  She looked thoughtful for a 
moment, then schooled her face to stillness again.  "It is not for this 
one to understand. It is for this one to obey the wishes of Sharma 
Daniel."

Daniel grimaced.  "Then, if you can not understand, please believe this: 
I may not know the customs for keeping a shen, but I promise you that I 
will not do anything to harm you while you attend me."  He leaned forward 
and touched her hands, still clasped over her stomach.  "I do not want 
you to be afraid of me.  Do you think you can do that?"

She didn't smile, but Daniel noticed that she didn't flinch, either.  
"This one will do as Sharma Daniel commands," she murmured.

He set about making sure she ate, and figuring out where she would sleep, 
and thought to himself that it would have to do as a start.

                         *******************

The next day didn't dawn at all - the storm predicted by the city guards 
arrived some time during the night and proceeded to lash the city 
throughout the day.  Even during the midday meal, there were glow spheres 
lit to drive back the gloom.

The negotiations were tedious on this first day; Daniel had expected to 
be in the middle of presenting the terms of the treaty and gaining 
approval for the various points, but the arrival yesterday of the other 
sharma's representatives had slowed things considerably.  He wound up 
spending most of the morning translating for Sam while she described, 
again, the benefits of the agricultural technology that they hoped to 
trade for Arkona's naquada.  He also wound up explaining, again, that 
their trade was intended to benefit all the Houses - indeed, all of 
Arkona - and not to advance the status of any single House.  One of the 
more paranoid representatives insisted on bringing this up repeatedly, 
until both Shad'aa and Per'ua came to his rescue.

"Enough, Keresh.  If this were so important to your lord, he would have 
come himself to the first gathering to ask these questions!"

The midday break was anything but; instead of sitting in a circle in the 
meeting hall, discussing points formally, the sharma and their 
representatives broke into little knots of conversation and started 
lobbying.  Rubbing his temples, Daniel could only watch as little cliques 
and alliances tried to form, messages were exchanged, and he was asked 
repeatedly to go over Sam's presentation "just once more, for 
clarification."  The major, unable to speak the language, was off the 
hook for most of this; luckily she seemed to have some idea of what he 
had to put up with, if the sympathetic looks she kept giving him were any 
indication.

Through it all, he kept being distracted by the shen; they were 
apparently trained to be unobtrusive, but Daniel couldn't help but notice 
the kneeling figures behind each of the sharma who were present.  It 
wasn't so much the shen themselves, as it was the fact that Daniel had no 
idea if he was setting the right example for protocol.  He covered as 
best he could by keeping an eye on Shad'aa and Per'ua, and double-
checking now and again that the shen seated behind him was doing the same 
kind of things that theirs were.  Mostly that seemed to mean refilling 
his drinking cup, which was confusing.  Couldn't an ordinary servant 
perform these duties?  Why were the shen needed?

It also didn't help that Sharma Kona'a kept shooting him hateful looks 
whenever he thought no one else would catch him at it.  In truth, it was 
usually Sam who spotted him, since Daniel was busy translating.  That was 
something else he couldn't fathom - as Jack had put it earlier this 
morning, either borrowing Kona'a's personal brainwashed slave was an 
honor to House Kona'a, or it wasn't; and if it was, then what was his 
problem, anyway?

Sharma Shad'aa stepped into the center of the circle, and waited for 
silence.  "Shall we resume?"

                         *******************

Later that night, Daniel was only too happy to drop his briefcase onto 
the table in his suite and toe his shoes off; protocol demanded that he 
wear his best suit, just as Sam got to truck around in her dress blues.  
She had confided to him during lunch that her combat boots were more 
comfortable than the heels she was wearing, and he had grinned.  It would 
have been nice to have a set of robes and sandals, or whatever the sharma 
were wearing under their outfits.  Not only was the suit and tie 
uncomfortable, compared to the sharma he looked like the poor cousin at 
the negotiations - not a good impression to convey.

It was still raining, and the wind would occasionally spatter drops 
across the boardwalk, so any plans he might have had for taking a walk to 
clear his head were out of the question.  It figured.  Daniel unknotted 
his tie and flung it on the bed, and started untucking his shirt with a 
sigh of relief.  He heard steps behind him, and turned to see the shen, 
following behind him and collecting his things.

Hell.

"Um, you do not need to do that," he said.  "I can..." The young woman 
walked past him to the cabinet, setting his shoes on the floor.  "...or, 
if you've already got it, then, um, that's fine..."  She stood looking at 
the tie in her hands, clearly having no idea what to do with the 
unfamiliar garment.

"Here," said Daniel.  He took the fabric from her, shook it out, and put 
it in the cabinet on top of tomorrow's clean shirt.  "Have you attended 
to your body today?"

"No, Sharma Daniel."

"You should go and do that," he suggested.  It felt very weird, standing 
here in front of her with his socks showing and his shirt half-undone; 
with any luck she would take long enough to eat that Daniel could finish 
changing in private.  The shen hesitated.

"May this one speak?" she asked.

"Of course."

"This one, perhaps, displeases Sharma Daniel?"

"No, I'm not upset with you," he replied, suppressing a sigh.  "Have I 
done something to make you think that?"

"Sharma Daniel... sends this one away.  Sharma Daniel does not permit 
this one to serve him."

This time, he didn't hold back the sigh.  "I am unused to having someone 
serve me.  As I told you yesterday, my customs are very different."

She clasped her hands together nervously.  "This one t-tries to 
understand Sharma Daniel."

"I know," he said.  A thought occurred to him.  "If you have questions 
about our customs, you may ask them whenever you like."

"Sharma Daniel is g-generous," she said - and for once, there was some 
emotion in her voice besides fear, he noticed.  "Does... does no one 
serve Sharma Daniel when, perhaps, he is ill, or tired?"

"Well, I suppose so, yes," he answered.  "Sometimes, when I can not care 
for myself, other people will help me - but I prefer to do things myself 
as much as I can."

She nodded.  "Is Sh-sharma Daniel... tired... now?"

"Ye-es," he said warily.

The shen swallowed.  "May this one attend Sharma Daniel, while he is 
tired?"

Oh, boy... "That depends," said Daniel, thinking quickly.  "What... how 
would you serve me?  What kinds of things would you do?"

"This one could, perhaps, draw a bath for Sharma Daniel," answered the 
shen, "and assist him... or, perhaps, she could bring a meal to him.  
Or," she added, blushing, "this one could, perhaps... bring p-pleasure to 
Sh-sharma D-Daniel." Her voice had dropped to a whisper, and her hands 
were fisted together in front of her.  "This one w-will do as Sh-Sharma 
Daniel c-commands."

Hell.  Hell *twice*.

"Let me think for a moment," he said carefully.  Pleasure?  Hell *three* 
times.  Jack would never let him live this down.
 
"I would like you to, ah, attend to your body, while I change clothes," 
he decided.  "Then you can bring a meal for... the five of us.  My three 
friends, you, and I will eat together."

She bowed and left, and he plopped down on the foot of the bed.  He had a 
brainwashed obedient slave, and he needed a chaperone to make sure she 
didn't do anything he didn't want her to do.

Why did stuff like this always seem to happen to him?

                         *******************

Negotiations, day two... more of the same, Daniel thought.  From the look 
of things, some of the representatives of the more-distant city-states 
were completely paranoid about the perceived advantages that trade would 
give to Shad'aa; either that, or else they had severe problems with 
short-term memory.  Sam got to present portions of her speech for a third 
time, with Daniel translating, and Daniel got to reassure everyone, for 
what felt like the twelfth time, that this was supposed to be an 
agreement between Earth and Arkona - not Earth and Shad'aa, or even Earth 
and the region of Minu'ua, of which Shad'aa was but a part.

To his surprise, Sharma Nadhesh broke his traditional neutrality 
immediately before the mid-day meal.  He stood and looked about the room, 
said simply, "House Nadhesh supports trade with Sharma Daniel of the 
Eye," and sat down again.  The murmuring this caused around the room 
lasted for several moments, during which he caught Sharma Kona'a glaring 
at him with a look of absolute venom.  Behind him, he heard the shen's 
intake of breath, and made a note to ask her about it later.

Then, during the break, he found himself face-to-face with Kona'a.

"May I offer my congratulations on securing Sharma Nadhesh as an ally, 
Sharma Daniel," he said smoothly.  Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel 
noticed Sam watching them from across the room.

"You honor me, Sharma Kona'a," responded Daniel.  "Although, in truth, my 
goal is not to secure an alliance with this city or that one, but with 
all of Arkona - this treaty is intended to benefit everyone."

"Yes, so you have said," replied the sharma.  His dark eyes narrowed.  
"By 'everyone,' Sharma Daniel perhaps means even the shen will benefit 
from his treaty?"

"If food shortages on Arkona are ended with the technology that we are 
offering, then yes, surely even the shen will benefit."

Kona'a's expression heated.  "Even *my* shen, do you think?"

Daniel tried what he hoped was his "clueless foreigner" look.  "Is there 
a reason that this would not be so?"

The noble stepped in, dangerously close.  Daniel was saved from looming 
only by the fact that he was two inches taller than Kona'a, who sneered, 
"You have the alliance of my rival, and you hold my shen hostage.  What 
am I to think - *Sharma* Daniel?"  His voice dripped poison all over the 
word "sharma", and Daniel suddenly found his senses coming alert.

"Is something not right between you, Sharma?"  Completely unnoticed until 
he spoke, there was Sharma Shad'aa, his white hair like a lion's mane 
over his red-and-gold robes.

"Ah, no, Sharma Shad'aa; Sharma Kona'a was just... expressing concern to 
me, for his shen," said Daniel.

"Come, Sharma Kona'a," smiled the older man, "Sharma Daniel honors your 
House by choosing your shen to be his during his visit.  I am sure that 
no harm will come to her."

"Yet we know that it is against custom for the people from the Eye of the 
Heavens to keep shen-er, for any purpose," responded Kona'a, reverting 
all to silken smoothness again.

"I assure you, Sharma Kona'a, that it was only to satisfy protocol that I 
chose a shen at all.  I have no interest in mistreating yours."

"Then you had no interest, perhaps, in honoring my House, but only in 
taking my shen from me?"

"I think," warned Shad'aa gently, "that Sharma Kona'a is, perhaps, not 
feeling well, or he would not speak so to a guest in my House."

"Of course," was the reply, "how foolish of me.  Sharma Daniel will, 
perhaps, accept my apologies?"

He walked away before Daniel could reply; but the look he cast over his 
shoulder suggested that the issue was far from resolved.

                         *******************

"Please, please tell me you had a better day than we did, Jack."

"It was great," said the colonel.  The four of them were seated around 
the table in the public room of his suite, while the shen perched on the 
edge of a chair to one side and nibbled at her meal.  "Teal'c and I 
toured the city, picked up a couple souvenirs, and you know, I think he 
asked thirty-seven different people where the bathroom was."

"I have determined," said Teal'c, "that O'Neill is envious of my ability 
to speak the local language."

Daniel grinned at Jack's muttering, and almost laughed out loud when 
Teal'c said, in perfect Arkon, "I admire your city very much.  Please 
tell me, where may I abandon my companion to drunkenness?"

"Um, Teal'c, are you sure you know what you just said?"

"Indeed, Daniel Jackson, I confirmed the meaning in three separate 
establishments. The tuarma who served our refreshments were most 
helpful."

"Daniel?"

"I'll tell you later, Sam..."

"Daniel!"

"Oh no, you're not getting a word out of me, Jack."

"It's a damn conspiracy..."

"Yeah, well, you want conspiracy, sir, you should have sat in on today's 
negotiations."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Ah, Sam, it wasn't quite as bad as you're making it sound..."

"Daniel, I was there too - and yes, it was.  Kona'a looked like he wanted 
to take a strip off your hide the minute you lowered your guard."

Jack leaned forward, suddenly very serious, while Sam related what she 
had seen of the encounter between the two men earlier that day.  Daniel's 
good mood began to evaporate, as he was forced to translate most of their 
conversation into English for his team's benefit.

"Well, isn't that just lovely," said Jack when he was finished.

"I agree with O'Neill and Major Carter," said Teal'c.  "This Kona'a 
intends to do you harm, Daniel Jackson; you would do well to avoid him."

Daniel just rubbed at his temples.  "I've been as non-confrontational as 
it is possible to be without rolling over at his feet, all right?"  He 
squinted up at them.  "If he wants a fight, he'll find a way to get one 
sooner or later, no matter what I do.  He treats her the same way," he 
added, tilting his head toward the shen seated behind him.

"And anyway, the negotiations require me to be present.  I'm not going 
to, to hide in here, because some blue-blood with delusions of grandeur 
is giving me dirty looks!"

"Not suggesting that you hide from him, Daniel," countered the colonel, 
"but maybe an extra guard would be a good thing in there tomorrow."

"Wha - no, no, I really think that's a bad idea," he shot back.  "None of 
the other sharma have any guards with them, so not only would you be 
giving him the reaction he wants, you'd risk insulting Shad'aa and all 
the rest of them as well."  He folded his arms.

"And anyway, sir, I'm not exactly chopped liver in the bodyguard 
department myself," Sam chimed in.

"Got a point there, Carter," Jack admitted.  "So, let's see... options.  
Have we talked to Shad'aa about this threat to their favorite foreign 
diplomat?"

"He knows, sir; he was the one to break up their little heart-to-heart at 
lunch."

"Okay; isn't Nadhesh supposed to be a rival of his? Can we count on any 
help from that quarter?"

"I'd rather leave the other sharma out of it, if you don't mind," said 
Daniel.  "Nadhesh isn't strong enough politically to do anything for us 
without hurting himself; Per'ua and Shad'aa both are not only strong 
enough, they're already very much in our camp as far as making sure 
negotiations go smoothly.  If anything happens to disrupt that, Shad'aa 
will step in as host, and I have a feeling that Per'ua will as well just 
because the hostilities would tick her off."

"Yeah," smiled Jack suddenly.  "You know, I really like her."

"What of the representatives of the other sharma?" asked Teal'c.

"From what I've been able to tell," said Daniel, "they are from city-
states that are far enough away that the trade deal doesn't really affect 
them - they just want to make sure that it doesn't give any individual 
House so much more power that it upsets the current political balance."

"That explains the paranoia, anyway," offered Sam, and Daniel nodded.

"So, as far as we're concerned, they're non-entities then?"  When Sam and 
Daniel both agreed, Jack put his hands on the table.  "Then there's 
nothing else we can do except ride this out, and hope Kona'a doesn't have 
his hissy-fit before the negotiations are concluded."

"I dislike our inability to affect matters as they currently stand," said 
Teal'c.

"Ditto, big guy," said Jack.  "Definitely with you there."

                         *******************

By some miracle, the third day of negotiations saw substantial progress; 
apparently all the various factions had gotten it through their heads 
that Daniel, and Earth's offerings, were legitimate and not part of any 
inter-House ploy.  One by one, the other sharma and outlying emissaries 
stood and voiced their support of trade.

Of course, that was an agreement in principle and not in specific, but 
Daniel had intended all along to go over the treaty, point by point, and 
make certain that all the Houses were willing to ratify every detail of 
the arrangements.  He was now simply two or three days behind schedule, 
that was all.  It was still forward movement, and did a great deal to 
improve both his mood and the overall atmosphere of the gathering.

The assembled sharma had agreed to divide the labor equally among all the 
Houses who had naquada deposits on their lands, and for the outlying 
cities to supply additional labor up to one-fourth of the total, when the 
midday break was called.  Daniel was amazed at how quickly the time had 
passed, and Sam looked thrilled.

Then Sharma Kona'a collapsed.

Daniel was in the middle of translating a conversation between Sharma 
Per'ua and Sam when a cry went up from the opposite side of the room; a 
crowd quickly formed around a person on the floor, and Daniel spotted 
several servants in the blue-and-silver of House Kona'a among them.

"He's been poisoned!" called one of them, and the room immediately went 
into an uproar.  Colors swirled into little knots as each sharma 
surrounded himself or herself with the available servants and shen in the 
room; some were shouting accusations back and forth, others were calling 
for calm, and those around Kona'a were lifting him between them and 
angrily demanding a healer.

Sharma Shad'aa stepped into the center of the circle, his face dark with 
an anger that Daniel had never seen there before.  "Whoever has committed 
this act has laid a grave dishonor upon me, my House, and this city; not 
to mention the insult that has been given to Sharma Daniel, Sharma 
Samantha, and all of you who desire peaceful trade between our worlds!  
Be assured that I will do everything within my power to ensure that the 
coward is found out."

"You need not look very far!" shouted an emissary, a strident little man 
whose name Daniel could not remember.  "All here know that House Nadhesh 
and House Kona'a are enemies!"  The young noble looked stunned, and 
turned visibly paler as heads turned his way.

"All here also know," shot Sharma Per'ua, "that Nadhesh is neither an 
idiot nor a child, to bring his rivalry here under the roof of House 
Shad'aa.  Silence yourself, Em're, lest you appear to be both!"

Shad'aa held up his hands for quiet.  "Clearly, the negotiations must go 
no further until Sharma Kona'a recovers.  His servants tell me that the 
poison used was not fatal to him, but we must seek the one who wished him 
harm.  Therefore I ask all of you to return to your suites, and to remain 
there until you receive word from me, personally.  My servants will be at 
your disposal."

"Meaning our servants...?" asked a woman in white and red.

"Are to stay with you, and not leave the suite for any reason," replied 
the older man.  "Who is to say how the poison was delivered?"

"Are we, perhaps, prisoners, Sharma Shad'aa?" the little emissary 
demanded.  The crowd began to murmur darkly.

"You are, Em're, under my protection for as long as you wish it, or until 
this investigation ends to my satisfaction," said Shad'aa.  "If you wish 
to leave, and prove yourself suspect in my sight, by all means do so."

That finally shocked Em're into silence, with a bow and an apology.  One 
by one, the other sharma began to trickle away from the meeting hall, 
some conversing with their fellows, others glaring around them 
suspiciously.  When almost all had gone, Per'ua and Shad'aa turned toward 
Daniel, Sam, and the shen.

"I am sorry," said Sharma Shad'aa.  For the first time, Daniel thought he 
looked old.

                         *******************

When Sam and Daniel returned to their suites, it was to discover that 
Jack and Teal'c were still out exploring the city.  While this was only 
to be expected, since they had no way of knowing that the negotiations 
had been interrupted, it did nothing to ease the nervousness of the 
remaining two team members.

"Who do you think could have poisoned Kona'a?" asked Sam.  She looked up 
from her struggle to kick off her heels.

Daniel, pacing, just shook his head.  "Nothing that I know about the 
current political situation helps; the attack itself doesn't make sense.  
Who would *want* to attack Kona'a?  Who would want to risk getting 
Shad'aa and the others on their bad side?  Who would benefit from 
disrupting the trade session?"  Daniel threw his hands in the air.  
"Nobody, as far as I can tell, stands anything to gain from this."

"Could we be overlooking something, some enemy who didn't come to the 
gathering?"

"What, hanging around on the fringes and hoping to make a move when no 
one else would see?"  Daniel sat down at the table and propped his head 
in his hands.  "How would they get into the city without Sharma Shad'aa 
hearing about it?  How would they get past the gates and into House 
Shad'aa?  And it still doesn't answer the question of why."  He muttered 
something that Sam couldn't hear.

"Sorry, say that again?"

He rubbed his face and looked up at her.  "I was just saying that I 
really don't think I can think like an Italian.  That's what their 
political setup reminds me of - Renaissance Italy."

Sam tucked her feet under her on her cushion.  "How so?"

Daniel sighed.  "During the Renaissance, Italy wasn't really a united 
country so much as a federation of city-states, tied together through 
military alliances, political marriages, trade agreements, and so forth.  
There were kings, but they usually weren't strong enough to order any of 
the cities to do what they wanted - anything that happened during that 
time period, happened because enough people were convinced that it was 
worth trying."

"Okay, I can see how that applies here; how is that a problem for us?"

"Well, I don't have any proof, but it would be logical to assume that 
other facets of Italian politics would also fit into the Arkon system.  
In theory, anyone here could be bought, just as in Italy, if the price 
were set high enough; assassinations might be a fact of life for the 
nobility as they were during the Renaissance; and alliances and 
connections to the right families are crucial, not just for political 
power but for daily survival."

Sam looked surprised.  "Is there a reason that all this sounds like the 
Mafia?"

"Sure," shrugged Daniel.  "Take a feudal-era political system of allied 
families and households and apply it to a criminal organization - which, 
by the way, originated primarily in Italy and Sicily, although not till 
about the 1800s."

"Ugh."

"Exactly," said Daniel.  He looked at Sam, one eyebrow raised. "If you 
thought the NID played politics, you haven't seen anything yet."

Sam dropped her head onto the back of the sofa.  "So," she thought aloud, 
"intrigue and rivalry... someone could be doing this not because they 
have anything to gain by disrupting the alliance, or even from hurting 
House Kona'a, but because it might... what?  Make House Shad'aa look bad, 
because it happened here?  Put suspicion on Sharma Nadhesh as a known 
rival?"

"Any or all of the above," said Daniel.  He took off his glasses and 
dropped them on the table.  "We are in way over our heads here."

                         *******************

Daniel was up to his chin in the bath, a luxuriously deep tub that was 
sunk into the floor and patterned in red and gold mosaic.  Sam was 
presumably relaxing in her suite, while they waited for Jack and Teal'c 
to return from being tourists, probably in another hour or so.  Daniel, 
for his part, had made the mistake of trying to out-guess whoever might 
have attacked Kona'a, and given himself a headache of monstrous 
proportions, hence the bath.  The steaming waters were helping, but not 
enough; he rolled his shoulders trying to loosen them.

He was just thinking that it might be a good idea to climb out of the tub 
and try to find a better distraction, when he felt a light touch on the 
back of his neck.  Nearly jumping out of his skin, he turned to see the 
shen kneeling behind him on the tile, snatching her fingers back as if he 
had tried to bite her.

"S-Sorry," she whispered frantically, dropping her forehead to the wet 
floor.  "This one is sorry, this one b-begs forgiveness, sh-she did not 
mean -"

Daniel cut her off.  "Stop, stop, it's all right.  You startled me," he 
said, suddenly very aware of his nakedness under the water.  "I did not 
hear you come in."

"This one b-begs Sharma D-Daniel..."

"I know," said Daniel, beginning to lose patience.  "I promised you I 
would not harm you while you were serving me.  You remember?"  At her 
timid nod, he continued, "Well, I meant that promise.  I don't," he ran a 
dripping hand through spiky hair, "it is not my custom, to strike someone 
who is not also trying to harm me."

"This one m-meant no harm," said the shen.  Her forehead was still 
touching the floor; the water he had splashed up was pooling under her 
knees and getting her hair wet.

"I know... I know.  How about this," he sighed.  "How about you reach me 
the drying cloth, and tell me what you were... what you did mean.  And 
please, do not kneel like that," he added.  "Not to me."

He dried his face on the red cloth, then mopped up the worst of the 
puddle on the floor, while the woman spoke, standing with her eyes 
averted near the edge of the tub.  Her voice was soft, hesitant.  "This 
one... saw that Sharma Daniel was, perhaps, not feeling well.  This one 
wishes to serve Sharma Daniel.  She thought that Sharma Daniel would, 
perhaps, t-take pleasure, if she..."

Oh, hell.

"It is, um, also not my custom to go to bed with someone who," he sought 
rapidly, "who is not my, my equal in status."

"This one d-did not presume to offer her, her, her b-body," said the 
shen, swallowing hard.  "This one... s-saw that, that Sh-Sharma D-
Daniel's head pained him... th-this one thought, perhaps, she might, m-
might press the places that hurt.  W-with her f-fingers," she added.  Her 
voice had dropped to a whisper, and he could just barely see that she was 
blinking quickly.

Hell.  Again.

Daniel closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling 
like a first-class idiot.

"Hey."  He reached out, slowly, and touched her bare foot with the tips 
of his fingers.  "I'm sorry."  He was dripping on the mosaic again, but 
he didn't really care.  "I'm sorry."

Her fingers were twisting around one another, clasped together at her 
belly.  "This one does not understand."

"I misjudged you.  I thought you wanted... I thought that you were 
offering something else, something I did not want from you."

"This one will serve Sharma Daniel however he wishes," said the shen.  
There was almost a pleading note to her voice.

She was trying so hard to do the right thing, he realized, and was so 
terrified of getting it wrong.  What must it be like to live in that kind 
of fear, all the time?

Aloud, he said, "I know.  And you do well, you truly do.  You, you serve 
very well.  You just - we both - just made a mistake, do you see?  Just a 
mistake." He pulled his hand back.  "Do you understand?"

"This one t-tries to understand Sharma Daniel," she replied.  "This one 
is told that Sharma Daniel has... many different customs."

He smiled.  "Yes.  Yes, I truly do.  Even Sharma Jack says that I am 
strange sometimes."

The shen paused, clearly unsure how to answer.  "The water is, perhaps, 
growing cold?  Sharma Daniel, perhaps, wishes to dress?"

"Uh, yes, that would be good.  If you bring me the other drying cloth, I, 
uh, I will not need anything else.  You can wait out in the public room, 
and I will be out in a moment."

"Is there more," she asked cautiously, "that Sharma Daniel, perhaps, 
wishes for this one to do?"

"Well, I, not really..." Daniel began.  Then inspiration struck.  "Oh.  
Er, yes, actually."  He looked up, took the towel from her.  "Do you know 
any stories?"

                         *******************

As Daniel finished drying off, he started to feel like he and the shen 
might actually be able to recover from the fiasco in the bathtub, before 
the afternoon was over with.  He managed to shoo the young woman out into 
the common room, and tried to explain through the door what he was after.

"You see, I do not spend all my days in search of trade," he said.  "My 
friends and I travel many places through the Eye of the Heavens, and 
wherever we go, I try to learn about the people we find.  I study the 
languages they speak, and I also collect stories."

He poked his head out into the public room.  The shen sounded tentative, 
but intrigued.  "What sort of stories does Sharma Daniel wish to 
collect?"

"It depends," he said, beginning to smile.  "What stories do you know?"

"This one... remembers a story that is told to children," she offered.

"Stories told to children are some of my favorites to collect," he 
replied. "Sometimes, such stories are all that remain to tell of things 
that happened a long time ago.  Sometimes they teach the proper way to 
behave."  He smiled wider.  "And sometimes they are simply entertaining."

He tugged his T-shirt into place and stepped out into the public room, 
still carrying his old socks. "The story that... this one remembers is 
about a kind of bird, called a pad-sha," said the shen.

"Here, sit," he said, pouring two cups of juice for them.  "Tell me the 
story of the pad-sha."  He pulled out the chairs from the table and 
dropped into one.  "When you have finished your story, I will tell one 
about a creature called a 'rabbit', who always tricked his enemies into 
doing whatever he wanted."

"The... the 'rabbit'... perhaps, does not truly speak, except in the 
story?"

"Just so," said Daniel.

"It is the same for the pad-sha in this story," nodded the shen.  "It is 
the story of why the pad-sha lives among the rocks."

Daniel watched her tell the story, and was fascinated.  The tale itself 
was interesting, but what really caught Daniel's eye was the way in which 
the shen seemed to reach into herself to pull the memory out - and when 
she spoke, her voice sounded almost nothing like the timid, fearful slave 
he had grown used to over the past few days.  He'd been told that the 
shen began their training as children; as the woman described the little 
bird hopping through the wilderness, searching for a star that had fallen 
from the sky, she seemed almost to revert to that time when she had been 
a child herself.  He almost caught her smiling once, and was delighted.

By the time she finished, Daniel was enthralled.  He finished his drink, 
smiled, and said, "You tell stories very well... um... do you know, I do 
not know your name?"

To his surprise, she tensed suddenly, as if catching herself at the edge 
of an error.  "Is this one to be punished?"

He blinked.  "Ah... no.  I do not understand.  Perhaps this is another 
different custom?"

She took a drink, carefully, and swallowed before saying, "Shen are... 
are not permitted to have names.  Shen do not deserve names.  As part 
of... of training, shen are asked, 'what is your name?'  But if a... if a 
sh-shen gives a name, he is... or she is... p-punished."

Daniel closed his eyes.  "And if the shen doesn't give a name?"

"Sometimes, she is, is still punished... for not, f-for being 
disobedient, and n-not answering her sharma."

He shook his head, and decided to change the subject.  "I, uh, promised 
to tell you a story, also.  Do you still want to hear it?"

She started to nod, caught herself, withdrawing back into her usual 
behavior.  "As... as Sharma Daniel wishes."

He stood, held up his socks.  "My feet grow cold - I will tell the story 
as soon as I come back."

Once he was in his bedroom, he heard a knock at the door, heard the shen 
get up to open it. "Jack?" he called. "Is that you?"  There was no 
answer.

"Teal'c?"  He frowned, and went to look out into the public room.

A servant he didn't recognize was holding the shen by her hair, making 
her kneel by the open doorway.  He started forward in shock, but before 
he had taken a full step, another man blocked his path and splashed 
something in his eyes, which immediately flared to searing pain.  Daniel 
gritted his teeth and staggered backward into the wall, and felt hands 
pin his shoulders and arms back hard.  A wet, sweet-smelling cloth was 
forced tightly over his mouth and nose before he could cry out.

After a long moment, he stopped struggling, and hung limply in their 
grip.

                         *******************

Jack and Teal'c were strolling down a side street when the servant in red 
and gold approached them.

"T?  Did you catch what he said?"

"Only the words 'House Shad'aa', O'Neill.  I believe we are to return 
with him."  Jack took another look, thinking that maybe the guy seemed 
kind of anxious about something.  So they fell into step behind him, only 
to discover that the traffic in front of them was suddenly twice as 
crowded as it had been.

They took a shortcut over a block and made it just a little ways before 
they ran into three people who had started a brawl; they were drawing a 
crowd, and the guards couldn't seem to separate them.

Heading back the way they came, they did fine, but as soon as they tried 
to turn again toward the noble quarter, they found that two delivery 
carts, floating at hip-height above the street, had collided and were 
making a mess.

The servant was becoming more and more flustered; he took them down an 
alley to another street, only to find it so tightly packed with people 
that he was shoved bodily into Teal'c, who had to catch him to keep him 
from getting trampled on.

Jack narrowed his eyes.  Something wasn't right.

"Teal'c - ask the guy if the streets are like this very often."

"I will try, O'Neill," he answered, but Jack already had a good idea of 
the answer; they'd been playing tourist for the past three days and 
hadn't encountered anything like this.

By this time, Shad'aa's servant was plenty anxious, looking around them 
quickly.  He pointed to another side street, and started to hurry, but 
Jack held him back.  "I have an idea."

They took the street at a leisurely saunter, and Jack was rewarded.  
Traffic was nearly non-existent until they stepped onto it; then, as they 
neared the next intersection, Jack spotted a man ducking out of sight on 
a rooftop... and suddenly, the party going on in that very building just 
absolutely had to spill out into the street.

"Yeah," he said.  "About what I thought."

The servant was looking at Jack in shock, completely bewildered by what 
was happening.  The colonel, on the other hand, had been around the block 
a time or two, and new a planned stall when he saw one.  The three of 
them continued their measured pace toward the throng, watching it get 
more and more tightly packed, and Jack nodded.  He caught Teal'c's eye, 
and reached inside his vest for the zat gun hiding there.  "Might want to 
tell him to duck, T."

He fired one shot, well over everyone's heads, and watched as the crowd 
dispersed, noticing how surprisingly few people actually screamed.  
"Awfully well organized for a drunken orgy, don't you think?" Jack 
shouted.

"Indeed," was the reply.  The servant was staring at them both.

The three men started to move.  After about two blocks, they started to 
make real progress; after three, it looked like traffic was back to 
normal - but Jack was keeping an eye on the rooftops, and had seen people 
ducking out of sight twice already.

"We just called their bluff," he said, breaking into a jog.  "We'll want 
to get a move on before they escalate."

The servant gabbled something.  Teal'c gabbled something back.  Whatever.  
Jack convinced his knees to quit complaining, and moved faster.

                         *******************

Apart from taking three times as long as they should have, Jack, Teal'c, 
and the servant made it back to the courtyard of House Shad'aa without 
incident, but Jack was not about to relax his guard.  Catching his 
breath, he said, "Teal'c - what was the servant saying to you?"

"If I am not mistaken, something has happened which concerns Sharma 
Kona'a, and the negotiations have been stopped," he replied.  "Given what 
we encountered in the city, I believe that we were to come here as a 
security measure."

"Ask him to explain it again.  Tell him to use small words." 

With a quick glance, Jack decided that Teal'c was probably getting the 
translation about right; the courtyard was empty, where usually, at the 
very least, you could spot a few servants from one House or another 
trotting about on errands for their bosses.  The only person they'd seen 
so far was the guard at the gate, and come to think of it, he didn't look 
as relaxed as usual, either.  Not good.

Jack started towards the boardwalk that would lead to their rooms, 
hearing Teal'c and the servant falling into step behind him.  Sounded 
like the servant was talking slowly, repeating himself every so often as 
Teal'c interrupted.  It would be a lot faster, he thought, for them to 
get to their rooms and hear an explanation from his team.

The silence, with everyone shut inside their own suites, was eerie, and 
not in any fun kind of way, either.  The place looked deserted; the wind 
hissed through the trees, and their steps seemed to echo too loudly on 
the wooden corridor.  Reaching the first of their suites, Jack turned the 
handle and pushed - and was immediately assailed by a powerful, acid 
smell that made his eyes and nose burn.  He jumped back.

"Get Carter."  Teal'c, bless him, didn't have to be told twice.  Jack 
blinked, taking a deep breath of the clearer air out on the boardwalk, 
and listened to the door opening.

"O'Neill!  Come quickly!"  The big guy's voice made Jack's neck hairs 
stand on end.  Glaring at the servant, who looked as startled as he had 
out on the street, Jack dashed in through the second door.

Teal'c was kneeling next to the major, who lay in bed, under covers, 
looking perfectly peaceful except that pulling the blanket back showed 
her to be fully clothed minus her shoes.  "She will not rouse, O'Neill.  
And there is a smell here, like a drug."

As Jack got closer, he caught the whiff; different from the burning 
chemical in the other suite, this one was sweetish and caught in his 
throat.

Jack turned back toward the door, his rage mounting.  The servant took a 
step back from the expression on his face, but Jack moved more quickly 
than he did and grabbed him by the shoulder.  "Get Sharma Shad'aa," he 
said, voice barely under control.  "You got that?"  He gripped the man's 
arm more tightly, shook him once, hard.  "You got that?!"  

"Sharma Shad'aa," he said, nodding. He looked terrified.  "Ken'eru mash-
jia fe re hauma..."

Babbling.  Jack spun him by the shoulder and shoved, not caring that the 
guy stumbled and had to catch himself on the railing to keep from falling 
off the boardwalk and down the hill.  Over his shoulder, he said, "Dig 
out the medic kit, see if you can find some smelling salts or something.  
Get her awake."

"And you, O'Neill?"

He was already wrapping a pillowcase around his face, stepping through 
the door that connected their suites.  "I need to see if Daniel's still 
in there."

                         *******************

There was something bothering Daniel, making it hard for him to sleep.  
Something irritating; he furrowed his brow, vaguely annoyed, and the 
irritation became an insistent burning in his eyes.  With a wince, he 
brought his hand up to rub at his face, and found that they were fastened 
together.  Sluggishly, not quite understanding, he tried once to tug his 
hands apart, then tried again, harder.  Something - it felt like coiled 
rope - was wrapped snugly around his wrists.  He could feel the weight of 
extra rope trailing off the knots and away from him.

His fogged mind was beginning to clear; Daniel was aware of lying on his 
side in the dark, on something that wasn't his bed at House Shad'aa, 
still in his T-shirt and pants as far as he could tell.  He tugged again 
at his bound wrists, and only felt skin beginning to pinch for his 
trouble.  The sensation, combined with the pain in his eyes, brought the 
memory of the attack crashing back through him, and with a gasp his 
entire body tensed, so suddenly it was almost a flinch.  With a bit of 
effort, he sat up, riding out a wave of dizziness and remembering the 
cloth that had been forced over his face.  "Drugged," he realized at 
last, and the last of the fuzzy feeling in his brain vanished.

Experimentally, he opened his eyes, but saw nothing.  The burning 
increased sharply and made his eyes water, so he closed them again. 
Gingerly, he reached up with his bound hands to touch; the skin felt 
scorched, not just across his eyelids but up onto his forehead, across 
the bridge of his nose and along one cheek.

Oh, God.  What if the room wasn't really dark?

                         *******************

Jack had just finished a quick search of all the rooms in his and 
Daniel's suite, confirming what he already suspected.  Someone, or 
several someones, had overpowered Carter and Daniel both, and taken 
Daniel off with them.  Most likely, tucking Carter into bed was supposed 
to be a deception; if he and Teal'c had gotten back late enough in the 
evening, they might have believed she was really asleep.  Come to think 
of it, the delaying tactics out on the street were probably related, too.

Plausible plan, if you thought that the other two members of SG-1 were 
stupid.  Were they supposed to conveniently not notice the chemical 
stench all through both rooms?

"Somebody screwed up on this one, T," said Jack.  He flung the cloth off 
his face and onto the couch.  "They could have had a lot better luck with 
a clean getaway, and they didn't."

"I agree, O'Neill," answered the warrior.  His eyes were narrowed 
dangerously.  "It is my hope that Daniel Jackson's abductors have made 
more such mistakes.  It will be easier to find him, and to destroy them."

"How is she?"  He nodded toward Carter, still out cold.

"Major Carter's vital signs are regular, but all attempts to rouse her 
have failed.  I suggest we give her into the care of Sharma Shad'aa and 
his staff, and begin our search for Daniel Jackson immediately."

"I'm on it," replied Jack.  He stepped out onto the boardwalk, rounded 
the corner, and was gratified to see Shad'aa's servant returning, 
followed closely by Shad'aa himself, two other servants, and Sharma 
Per'ua.  She was hard to spot behind all the red and gold, but it looked 
like she was also bringing people with her to assist.

Good.

                         *******************

Carefully, Daniel tried to open his eyes again, but just the feel of air 
across the delicate surface caused the burn to intensify, until tears 
were streaming down his cheeks.  There was nothing for him to see; 
whether the room was darkened or not, he was effectively blind.

Moving cautiously, listening intently for any sound that would give him a 
clue where he was, Daniel managed to get his knees under him.  He felt 
time-smoothed wood against his hands and along the tops of his feet, 
which were bare.  He remembered stepping into his bedroom for a clean 
pair of socks when the attack had happened.

"I see that Sharma Daniel is awake," said a voice, quiet and smooth.  
Daniel tried to track the sound; it seemed to be coming from his left, a 
little behind him.  "Perhaps he felt unwell, and needed to rest?"  Soft 
footfalls, nearly silent, accompanied the voice's movement around to the 
side.  "Perhaps his eyes are bothering him?"

Daniel made himself breathe as calmly as possible.  "I greet you, Sharma 
Kona'a," he said.

                         *******************

The guest suite no longer felt spacious to Jack, crammed as it was with 
two sharma, a handful of servants, and himself, Teal'c, and Carter.  
Teal'c was standing with Sharma Shad'aa and one of his servants, while 
two more hovered over Carter where she lay on the bed.  Sharma Per'ua 
seemed to be directing a thorough search of their quarters, and had 
already sent two of her people next door into Jack and Daniel's suite.  
Jack, with no grasp of the local language, felt at loose ends.  There 
wasn't even enough room in here to pace anymore, and somehow that thought 
ticked him off above and beyond the rest of it.

"Teal'c."

"O'Neill."

"What the hell is going on?"

"I am attempting to find out, O'Neill; the servant and Sharma Shad'aa are 
making their best effort to be understood."

Jack gritted his teeth and tried to pace again, succeeding only in 
turning himself in little circles near one wall.

A light touch on one arm pulled him out of dark thoughts.  "Sharma Jack."  
He glared into the face of Sharma Per'ua, realized what he must look 
like, and took a deep breath.

"Per'ua."

"Veshe, Sharma Jack.  Veshe."  He had no idea what "veshe" was supposed 
to mean, but the tiny woman guided him over to Carter's bed, where one of 
her people had just turned away.  The look on his face kind of reminded 
Jack of Fraiser - that grimly satisfied expression she got sometimes, 
when she'd figured out what was wrong with one of her patients and could 
finally get on with the business of fixing it.

Jack hoped that was the same look, anyway.

"Sharma Per'ua," bowed the man.  "Sharma Jack."  He began to gabble 
something, but Per'ua stopped him, seemed to explain that Jack had no 
clue what he was saying.  Pulling a cloth from inside his robes, he 
reached for the water on the nightstand and spilled some onto it.

"Eh," he thought for a moment, "beh ru'kher," he held up the cloth, "tso 
na-makh peresh-jia," he mimed holding the cloth against his face, "koro 
bekher tash na-mere Sharma Samantha-jia."  He made his eyes droop closed, 
sagged for a moment, and then indicated the good major.

Got it.  No surprise, really.  Jack raised his eyebrows, tapped the wet 
cloth in the man's hands.  "Can you fix it?  Antidote?"

If not the words, the man - the healer, actually - seemed to get the idea 
behind Jack's tone.  He touched his assistant on the shoulder, murmured 
something; Jack watched as the assistant unrolled a piece of soft 
leather, stitched full of tiny pockets.  The healer pulled three vials 
out of separate pockets, mixed a couple of powders in his wet 
handkerchief, and rubbed them with his little finger until they formed a 
paste.  Bending over the bed, he brought his hand to Carter's lips, then 
paused and looked over his shoulder at Jack.

Jack took a breath, said a quick prayer, and nodded.  The healer slipped 
his pinkie inside her mouth, rubbing the paste in along her gums.  He 
dipped his finger in the stuff on his handkerchief and repeated the 
procedure all along her bottom lip, then stood up, wiping his hands on a 
clean patch of the hankie.  Per'ua asked him a question, he answered.

"Teal'c?"

"I am listening, O'Neill.  The healer has told Sharma Per'ua that very 
little time is needed before his antidote takes effect."

On the bed, Carter stirred and murmured sluggishly.

"Good."

                         *******************

"Sharma Shad'aa was most concerned when you fell ill during the 
gathering," said Daniel.  "I am certain he will be relieved to hear that 
you are recovering."

"Recovering?"  Kona'a's voice was now almost directly in front of him, 
maybe a few steps away.  "But that is not so.  The poison I was given was 
most cruel - have not my servants been instructed to say that I am near 
death, and must not be disturbed for any reason?"  Daniel could hear the 
malicious gloating only too clearly - Kona'a was laying it on so thick he 
could almost taste it.  "Am I not very fragile, just now, lying in my 
bed, attended by the best healers by day and by night?"

"Indeed," said Daniel dryly, "the one who fed you poison was truly a 
vicious coward."  He was rewarded when he heard Kona'a halt his slow 
pacing.  "How fortunate that Sharma Shad'aa has sworn not to rest until 
he has found those responsible for the insult to your House - and to his 
House, of course."

Kona'a gave a haughty little breath of laughter.  "Oh yes," he said, 
"insults to my House are so terribly important to him; such a wonderful 
ally I have in Sharma Shad'aa."  His voice began to heat, as it had 
during the gathering - was it only yesterday? - when he had confronted 
Daniel during the lunch break.

"I have, perhaps, been misinformed," suggested Daniel diffidently.  "I 
was given to believe that Shad'aa and Kona'a shared honor and respect for 
one another."

"Respect," sneered Kona'a.  "Honor.  What honor in permitting some 
vagabond to pretend he is sharma - a vagabond who comes to us, begging 
for useless rock!"

The pacing was back, faster, angry.  "What honor in allowing this false 
sharma to sleep under his roof?  To demand that we true sharma, of 
ancient family, show the vagabond the same courtesy we show one another?"  
The smoothness was completely gone from his voice now, the venomous 
hatred laid bare and undisguised.

 "What respect Sharma Shad'aa has, to demand that his revered ally give 
up his shen to this filth from the wilderness!" A vicious yank on the 
rope trailing from his wrists toppled Daniel onto knees and elbows.  "Oh 
yes, we are so greatly honored!"  The kick caught Daniel on the right, 
just above his appendix scar, and he doubled up coughing.

"Get up.  Get up!"  When Daniel made no move to rise, his right arm was 
kicked out from under him.  Then he felt the rope flop about and jerk 
upward suddenly.  On his knees, he yanked backward, feeling the pinch 
along the backs of his wrists.  He heard the noble stumble forward, but 
was unprepared for the force of the backhand that caught him.  His head 
rocked to the left, and the tender skin across his cheek began a slow 
burn.  Pain shrieked through his eyes for a moment, and he could not stop 
himself from crying out.

"Sharma Daniel does not like that?" hissed Kona'a.  "No?  Perhaps the 
great sharma from the Eye will get up as he is told to do!"

"Is this really about my... ancestry," gritted Daniel, "or is it about 
your shen?  You accused me of stealing her from you before."

"Do not speak of what does not belong to you!" raged Kona'a, hauling 
Daniel bodily to his feet by his shirtfront.  Daniel, half-expecting the 
attack, got his feet under him and twisted as he rose, managing to catch 
some part of Kona'a's body with his elbow.  Immediately, he felt blows 
land on his jaw and left ribcage, so fast he would have had a hard time 
defending against them even if he had been able to see them coming.  When 
Kona'a's elbow slammed into his left kidney, he arched reflexively 
backward and dropped to his knees groaning.

As he caught his breath, he heard Kona'a stomp away from him, and a 
moment later the rope on his wrists flopped about against the floor.  
Daniel heard a metallic squeaking as the rope was hoisted upward again; 
this time, when he pulled against it, there was no give.  Instead, with 
another jerk his arms were pulled up - Daniel stood quickly, trying to 
gain some slack to fight with, but with another vicious yank his arms 
were brought high over his head.  The coils bit into the backs of his 
wrists as Daniel fought for balance, finally rising slightly onto his 
toes and swaying a little, horribly open to anything Kona'a might choose 
to do to him.

"She is MY shen, do you hear me," spat the nobleman.  Daniel could feel 
the man's body heat, he was standing so close.  "You had no right even to 
request a servant for this gathering, even less to demand a shen - MY 
shen."

"Among my people," said Daniel, "no one can own another person." He was 
stretched so tightly upward that his voiced sounded strained and breathy 
in his ears.  "No one has the right even to claim such a thing.  She 
belongs to herself."

"Herself?" Kona'a' grabbed Daniel's shirtfront again, making him sway 
forward helplessly.  "She has no self.  It was trained out of her, and if 
you were not an arrogant foreigner you would know that already!"  Daniel 
heard a soft sliding noise, then the chill of a knife blade at his neck; 
Kona'a made sure to hold it flat against his skin, breathing hard and hot 
while he gave Daniel time to recognize what it was.  Holding himself as 
still as he could, Daniel could only listen and feel as the blade parted 
the fabric of his shirt like water; the cool air of the room ghosted 
across his newly bared stomach.  "Stupid filth."

"So as far as you are concerned," said Daniel carefully, "the shen is not 
even a person?"

"She is a shen - if she were a person I would call her a person," came 
the contemptuous reply.  With another slice, the back of his shirt was 
cut open.  In moments the shoulder seams were cut, and the pieces fell to 
the floor, brushing warm across the tops of his feet.  Daniel swallowed, 
his fingers clenching and unclenching uselessly above his head.

"If she is not even a person," said Daniel, knowing what the reaction 
would be yet unable to stop himself, "then why do you call her 'she'?"

The blow to his stomach was so hard and deep that for a moment, Daniel 
thought he had been stabbed.  His breath rushed out of him with a grunt, 
and he tried to double over but only succeeded in drawing his legs off 
the floor for a moment.  His shoulders felt like the arms were going to 
come out of the sockets, and he fought to make his legs support him 
before the agony became unbearable.  As the pain spread through his body, 
so did the nausea, until it was an effort of will not to throw up.

"I said not to speak to me!" roared Kona'a.  Out of the darkness came 
another blow, this one across the back of Daniel's legs.  His knees 
buckled and the ropes jerked again, the only thing holding him up.

"Do not speak!" he shrieked, grabbing Daniel by the back of the neck.  He 
struggled, what little he could, against the grip, but Kona'a's strength 
in his rage was immense.  "Do not speak!" he kept screaming, over and 
over, like some kind of enraged beast.

Daniel felt something shoved against his mouth and tried to turn away, 
but Kona'a only shoved his head back until he thought his neck would 
snap.  With his mouth forced open by the angle, Kona'a was able to cram a 
piece of Daniel's shirt inside, stuffing it deep.  Daniel's frantic 
protests were muffled, then finally silenced completely; the gag was 
forced in so deeply that trying to use his voice only served to cut off 
his air supply.  Once again, he was reduced to struggles to breathe, and 
to fight his own gag reflex; only now, he knew, if he failed he would 
most likely die.

"It would be well if Sharma Shad'aa could see you now, foreign filth," 
hissed the voice in his ear.

Then his punishment began in earnest.

                         *******************

Carter was sitting up in bed, looking like the hangover from three days' 
shore leave to be sure, but sitting up and reasonably coherent.  Jack 
counted this a good thing, and tried not to be too impatient while she 
finished coming around.

"There were... I think there must have been three of them, sir," she said 
groggily.  "I know one of them was behind me with the... drug... and I... 
there was one who picked up my legs so I couldn't... couldn't fight."  
She sipped at her tea, clearly wishing she could keel over and die for a 
week or so.

Per'ua had told them, via Teal'c, that the combination of drug and 
antidote often left its victim feeling unwell, and that usually it was 
better to let the person sleep off the drug.  Too bad this wasn't one of 
those times - expediency was crucial right now.

"Were you able to determine to what House the attackers belonged, Major 
Carter?" asked Teal'c.  Bless him for keeping his voice as low as 
possible; it seemed to keep Carter's stomach inside her where it 
belonged.

"Mm... no, no, they weren't..." she swallowed convulsively, "no colors.  
Just plain... outfits."  She took a deep breath and let it out carefully.  
"If they... hadn't attacked Kona'a earlier... I'd say it was him... 
but..."

"Wait a minute," interjected Jack.  "Someone attacked Kona'a?"

She nodded, then reached for the edge of the bed to steady herself.  
"Poison.  Collapsed... during lunch break.  They... called off the... 
the, uh... negotiating.  Everyone back to our rooms, while Shad'aa... 
investigated."

The colonel's eyes narrowed.  If Kona'a had been attacked, and then 
Carter and Daniel...

"Where's the shen we were borrowing?"

"Sir?"

"Kona'a's pet slave girl.  If he was attacked, would she get... I 
dunno... recalled or something?"

"I shall attempt to ask, O'Neill," said Teal'c.

More stumbling, more waiting while Teal'c used his tourist-manual grasp 
of Arkon to figure out an answer to Jack's question.  He started to pace 
again, feeling the muscles in his shoulders tying themselves up into 
knots.

Someone exclaimed in Arkon behind him.  He turned to see Per'ua looking 
surprised, and Shad'aa turning a thoughtful look toward her.  The two 
began to speak, quietly and very quickly, with one another.

"No one here has seen the shen in some time, O'Neill.  It was assumed 
that she was with Daniel Jackson."

"Yeah well, Daniel isn't here, in case you hadn't noticed, and she 
supposedly belongs to Kona'a, so did she go back to Kona'a when he was 
attacked, or not?"

"She did not, O'Neill, and this appears to be significant information to 
the sharma."

Something didn't add up here at all.  Jack weighed the pieces carefully.  
No one here would feel any real reason to attack both Kona'a and 
Daniel... unless...

"Oh, God," breathed Carter.  He looked at her, trying her best to sit up 
straighter on the bed.  "He set this up - he did it."

That, on the other hand, added up pretty damn nicely.

"Teal'c?"

"Sharma-ko, Per'ua, Shad'aa.  Go-sherna Sharma Kona'a-jia?"

The old guy looked stunned as the realization hit him; the old lady 
looked furious.  As one, they turned and sent servants running out the 
door of the suite, their feet thundering along the boardwalk outside.

Jack took off after them.

                         *******************

Daniel had completely lost track of how much time had passed; he might 
have been hanging in the blind darkness at Kona'a's mercy for an hour, or 
a day - it was beyond him even to try to guess anymore.

All through the session, Kona'a had been careful to pick his targets at 
random: Daniel's shoulders and upper back, his chest, the backs and sides 
of his legs, all throbbed with dull impacts, or shrieked with welts that 
Daniel thought might come from some kind of thin cane, but Daniel could 
never discover any kind of pattern to his attack - there was never any 
way for him to tell when or where the next blow would strike.  They came 
out of nowhere, sometimes spaced far apart from each other, other times 
fast and furious, and he was helpless even to dodge out of the way.

Sometimes, for variety, Kona'a would take aim at his head and neck, 
making him choke, or his calves and feet, making him kick and writhe.  As 
far as Daniel could guess, probably the only unmarked parts of his body 
by now were his hands and forearms, which were out of Kona'a's reach and 
had lost sensation, anyway.  His belly had been spared too, for the most 
part; Kona'a had remarked at one point that he didn't want to end his 
entertainment too quickly, by damaging Daniel's internal organs.

Kona'a' was enjoying himself; Daniel didn't have to guess about that.  
The man made a point of laughing when Daniel was in the most pain, or 
commenting on how pathetic he looked as he wrestled to keep his panic and 
his reflexes under control.  That control was becoming more and more 
difficult to maintain; he was so exhausted that his mind was beginning to 
blur around the edges, making him forget to try not to swallow, not to 
shout, not to pick his feet off the floor.  After an especially sharp 
cut, sometimes Daniel would try to cry out - then the gag would cut off 
his air supply, and he would panic and gasp only to try and scream again, 
until he was thrashing against the rope that held him up.  Kona'a would 
wait, chuckling contentedly, and just as Daniel managed to become aware 
of his surroundings again, to get a grip on his shattering nerves, a blow 
would land on him out of nowhere and the cycle would begin again.

At the moment, he was hanging motionless with his head tipped back, 
breathing through his nose in sharp, shallow gasps that made his ribs 
ache.  He could hear Kona'a walking around him, whistling the cane 
through the air and making him flinch in anticipation of a blow that 
never landed; after toying with him like this for a few moments, Daniel 
heard a rattle against the floor, as the weapon was cast aside.

"Such a fine sharma you look now," said Kona'a.  "So dignified, with 
blood running down your legs."  He gave Daniel's head a contemptuous 
shove, and Daniel heard him turn away.  He walked a few steps, said one 
word: "Shen!"

Suddenly his breath was gusting on Daniel's chest.  "She has watched, the 
entire time, *Sharma* Daniel," he purred.  "My shen sees that you are 
mine to play with as I wish; she sees your blood and your tears.  She has 
seen you whimper like a beast.  I commanded her to watch," he said, his 
voice rising, "and she obeyed ME!"

"COME HERE!" he roared, making Daniel flinch again.  He could just barely 
hear the footsteps as she approached, and felt something twist inside 
him.  It wasn't enough for Kona'a to torture him; he had to torture his 
slave as well, by making her watch?

"Who is your master?"

And he heard it, God, Daniel could hear the terror in the woman's voice 
as she answered, "Th-this one s-serves - sss - Sh-sharma Kona'a, th - 
this one is g-good -"

"I will decide whether you are good, little pekh," said Kona'a calmly.  
Daniel couldn't place the word, was too numbed to remember whether he'd 
even encountered it before.  "Tell me, shen, if you are my good servant, 
why you served this foreign filth at all."

"This one... does as sh-she is com - commanded, th-this one o-obeys 
Sharma Kona'a..."  Her whimpered murmurings were cut off with a sharp 
slap that had Daniel mentally wincing in sympathy.

"You dare to blame ME for your failure?!" Kona'a demanded.  "YOU 
attracted his attention, YOU made him take you away from me - it was YOU 
who served him when you should have been serving ME!"

This time, the fist connected with Daniel's stomach, and was so 
completely unexpected that he nearly retched from the force of it; he 
could feel his legs curling off the floor as his body instinctively tried 
to protect itself.  He could feel his eyes rolling back in his head, and 
he fought to convince his muscles to let him inhale, to take just one 
more breath.

A strange thing happened then.  As his consciousness fogged, for just a 
heartbeat, he could see the room around him - only it was as if his 
vision were no longer connected with his own eyes.  Kona'a was standing 
with his back to him, and seemed to be very tall from his vantage point.  
He was facing another man, who hung naked from his bound wrists in the 
center of the room... then Kona'a moved, and for a second, Daniel saw his 
own beaten body, his own face in front of him.

He gasped, and fell blind again.

                         *******************

After pelting around the corner of the boardwalk, Jack easily caught up 
with the two servants that were moving briskly toward Kona'a's quarters; 
at least, Jack assumed that's where they were headed, since he hadn't 
bothered to ask and wouldn't have understood the answer if he had.  Damn 
this foreign-language bullshit to hell and back, he thought; once they 
got back to the SGC he was going to put Daniel up for commendation for 
teaching the Arkon language to Teal'c.  Even the rudimentary vocabulary 
he had was better than nothing at all.

Their jog was brought to a sudden halt - in front of Jack and the two 
servants stood Nadhesh in his gold robes, two or three other people that 
he recognized as representatives from the other cities, and a handful of 
their servants.

Jack narrowed his eyes, weighing his chances if it came to a fight.  
Nadhesh spotted him and looked troubled; a short little terrier of a man 
stepped forward and started gabbling and pointing.  No idea what the 
little runt was saying, but he didn't much like the guy's tone - so, 
fixing his best "colonel bad-ass" look on his face, he stepped forward 
and loomed.

"Go Charmin Kona'a... runt?"

The little man looked bewildered; okay, fine, so maybe he hadn't gotten 
it right.

"Kona'a?  You know... 'bout this tall, wears blue, snotty attitude?"  
Jack measured with his hands.  "Kona'a?"

The runt sniffed loudly, started gabbling again; Jack caught the phrase 
"Sharma Daniel" in there somewhere, and rolled his eyes.  Like he needed 
another goddamned delay at this point!

Luckily for the runt, Per'ua's servant stepped in and apparently started 
talking some sense into him.  The little guy shut his trap, at any rate, 
and even had the grace to look surprised.

"Em're?" said Nadhesh.  He leaned forward - way forward; that was a kid 
belonged on a basketball team if Jack had ever met one - and spoke softly 
into the short guy's ear.  The runt - okay, fine, Em're - began to look 
concerned, then worried.  After looking at Nadhesh uncertainly once or 
twice, he nodded, and finally bowed.

"They accuse Daniel Jackson of the attack on Sharma Kona'a," said Teal'c.  
Jack nearly jumped out of his skin, and whirled to face the Jaffa.

"Excuse me?"

"The assembled representatives were coming to accuse Daniel Jackson of 
the attack on Sharma Kona'a," repeated Teal'c.  "They have heard rumors 
that Daniel has disappeared, because his plot was about to be 
discovered."

"I suppose Per'ua's messenger here told 'em that was bullshit?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," said Teal'c.

"And now?"

"Now they wish to visit Sharma Kona'a as well, to hear his version of 
events," he replied.

"And we're waiting for...?" said O'Neill, glancing at the assembled 
crowd.

"You, O'Neill," said Teal'c.

Jack felt a headache coming on, and fought it the best way he knew how - 
he shoved it into the same mental storage facility his anger was 
simmering in, and started walking.  Teal'c, the servants, and the rest of 
the nobility fell in behind him.

                         *******************

"Tell me what you did for him, shen," said Kona'a, his voice deadly 
quiet.  "I want to hear everything, every command he gave you, every 
moment of your service.  ALL OF IT!"

Daniel listened, exhausted and sickened, as the girl recited, in a voice 
gone toneless with fear, every deed, no matter how small - how she had 
brought food to him, how she had bathed herself before going to sleep at 
night because Daniel had ordered her to "tend to her body" - how she had 
knelt behind him during the negotiations and refilled his drink - how he 
had asked her questions, and the exact answers she had given.

Through it all, Kona'a didn't say a single word.  Daniel only knew he was 
still in the room because the shen's speech would be interrupted from 
time to time by the sound of a fist striking her; the woman never seemed 
to react to what he did to her, other than to gasp in pain, or let a 
quick sob escape her, before simply resuming her story as if she had not 
been interrupted.  Daniel was furious, filled with disgust and dread, 
which were only made worse by his helplessness to do *anything* to stop 
the horrible scene that he could hear, taking place only steps away from 
him.

Once, Daniel heard Kona'a knock her to the floor, and he had another 
strange flash of sight.  This time, he was looking at the floor and at 
his hands - only they were not his hands.  Kona'a's feet, wearing the 
familiar blue and silver slippers, were visible out of the corner of 
"his" eyes; he watched "himself" rise from the floor - yet he could see 
his own body standing a few feet away.  At the same time, with a bizarre 
disjointed awareness, he could feel where he actually stood, still bound 
to the ceiling, and hear the shen moving nearby.

She started speaking again, and the vision dissipated once more.  What 
was going on?

After a few moments, the shen began to describe in a trembling voice how 
she had offered to "give him pleasure", and Kona'a exploded with rage.  
"I KNEW it!  You DARED, you offered that body to HIM, you FILTHY pekh!"  
Again he heard the blow land, again he could only listen as the shen was 
knocked to the floor, and again he had a flash of disjointed sight.

Kona'a was red-faced, his robes swirling and his eyes mad, and he towered 
impossibly tall from Daniel's vantage point near the floor.  "WHO owns 
that body?  Who permits you to continue LIVING?"  The conflicting 
sensations, of feeling himself standing with his hands bound over his 
head, and of seeing himself from a kneeling position several feet away, 
were starting to make him dizzy.

He heard the woman start to answer, and then both saw and heard Kona'a's 
backhand come flying downward.  He flinched where he stood as the blow 
landed, but didn't feel it strike him - and finally, his weary mind 
connected the data, and realized that, somehow, his vision was tied to 
what the shen could see.

Kona'a had roused himself into an ecstasy of violence; he flailed at the 
woman on the floor, and Daniel watched through her eyes as she ducked to 
take his fists across her shoulders and back.  He bellowed curses at her 
("the clay in my bowel is worth more than your entire life!") and called 
her disgusting names, only half of which Daniel could translate.  He spit 
on her, and threatened worse, threatened to make her kneel in a pool of 
his own urine.  He threw her against the wall, knocked her to the floor 
again and again, and kicked at her head and stomach where she cowered.  
He ordered her to be silent, then beat her when she did not respond to 
his curses; would kick her till she cried out, then rage at her for 
breaking her silence.  His onslaught seemed to last forever, and Daniel 
felt himself grow horrified, even humiliated, on her behalf.  That Kona'a 
should abuse her this way, apparently on a regular basis, was revolting - 
but to do it in front of witnesses was nothing short of obscene.

Finally, he panted, "You OFFERED him pleasure - YOU wanted to debase the 
body that I OWN for this filth - let us see you pleasure him NOW!"

With that, he yanked the shen forward by the hair and shoved her face-
first into Daniel's groin.  Her chin smacked painfully into Daniel's 
hipbone; he swayed off-balance, feeling her body trembling against his, 
her breath puffing against his belly as she sobbed quietly.

His vision flickered for a moment, and he felt a sick sense of despair, 
regret, and self-loathing mingling with his own rage.  Echoing in the 
back of his mind, he could hear the memory of the way she had apologized 
to him brokenly for some imagined offense, "sorry, sorry, sorry", 
groveling and begging for forgiveness, over and over again.  Some part of 
him, some instinct, battled that emotion back, as if trying to convince 
himself of his innocence... 

Wait.  Convince himself?

Adrenaline surged through him as he focused his thoughts on the woman 
being forced to kneel before him.  "This isn't your fault," he thought, 
and to his shock felt the woman's surprise ripple through him.  He had no 
idea if she could actually hear him, or just feel his emotions the way he 
could sense hers; at the moment he didn't care.  "This is NOT your 
fault," he thought again, willing the message to get through.

Kona'a flung her away from him onto the floor, and his sight whirled away 
into darkness once more.  The mysterious rapport seemed to fade along 
with it; Daniel had no idea where it had come from or why, nor whether it 
would return.

                         *******************

The little war party behind Jack and Teal'c was surprisingly quiet over 
the planks of the boardwalk - probably had something to do with most of 
them wearing slippers, he figured, not that this would convince him to 
trade in his combat boots at the moment.

Jack was in a mood to do a little ass-kicking, and slippers just didn't 
fit with that whole ambience, you know?

They had crossed the courtyard, where lamps were being lit against the 
coming dark; had mounted a few steps, rounded a corner, stepped onto 
another boardwalk; now they were approaching an intersection, and Jack 
was in no mood to slow down.  He glanced over his shoulder, gestured 
impatiently to the waiting servant, a twenty-something man with gaudy 
hoops in one ear.

The servant immediately pointed to the right, and Jack sped up again.  
Per'ua had good people working for her - bad taste in jewelry, maybe, but 
good heads on their shoulders.

"Teal'c," he called quietly, "ask him which door."

He softened his steps into a hurried stalk, until all he could hear was 
the big guy's voice, followed by the servant's response.  See?  Combat 
boots could be quiet too.  Gotta love Special Ops.

"Kona'a's suite is the fourth door along this corridor, O'Neill," 
murmured Teal'c.

"Tell everyone else to wait," he answered.  Not waiting for a reply, he 
stepped on little cat feet across the boards, absolutely silent.  
Listened at the door.  Voices.

Funny, didn't sound like they were in a sickroom with a poisoned guy...

Jack listened for a moment more, centered himself, and kicked the door 
in.  Inside three servants leaped to their feet from around the table, 
their meal spilling to the floor as they backed up against a wall.

"Hi," said Jack politely.  "Kona'a?"

The servants' eyes got really big, and they looked at each other in the 
way that Jack had come to associate with Tok'ra, ten-year-olds, and 
others who were trying - badly - to hide something from him.

Jack smiled, and stepped through the doorway.

Combat boots were great.

                         *******************

"When was the last time I marked you, shen?" said Kona'a; he had caught 
his breath, and his voice sounded deceptively calm.  "Has it been two 
hands of days?  Four?"  His steps crossed the room.  "Answer me."

"T-two m-m-moons have p-passed, Sh-sh-sharma K-Kona'a."  Faintly, Daniel 
could sense just a hint, a twinge of sensation; was it her dread, or his 
own that he felt?

"Indeed, so long?  Perhaps you would remember your master better if I 
wrote my name upon you more often."  He let his breath out in a huff. 
"Bring the knife."

His robes swirled and swished in the blackness.  "Ah, Sharma Daniel," he 
said, coming closer.  "For a foreigner, you speak our tongue very well, 
even I must admit - but you are not, perhaps, familiar with our written 
forms?"

There was another flash of vision, and he was looking down at a blade 
with a blue-and-silver handle, easily eight inches long but so thin, 
impossibly thin for a knife that size.  He watched through the shen's 
eyes as she reached out and picked it up.  One of her wrists was 
beginning to swell.  Her fingers were wet, and trembling.

Kona'a paused as if expecting an answer, then went on, "Are you not? I 
would be delighted to show you - ah, but I had forgotten, you are blind 
now."  Daniel could hear the smile in his voice, and his stomach churned.

The shen had turned and was walking toward Kona'a, where he stood facing 
Daniel.  Odd, Daniel hadn't realized that he was swaying on his feet...  
she stopped a few steps away, her eyes on the floor, her glance flicking 
occasionally to the knife she held in her hands.

"Perhaps there is another way I can demonstrate to you our writing," he 
said, drawing closer.  His voice dropped to an intimate purr, "Perhaps I 
shall put my name on your body as well, so you can feel our writing for 
yourself."

The woman's hands twitched, and Daniel suddenly felt a rush of horror and 
despair from her; with an effort, he managed to counter it and bring it 
under control.  The sensation was not all that different from taking 
someone by the shoulders and shaking them to catch their attention, 
forcing them to "snap out of it," to yank their attention away from their 
hysteria.  He thought he might have succeeded in calming the shen, or 
maybe he had just pushed her emotions out of his head again.  He only 
hoped that he had not given anything away to Kona'a in his expression; 
Daniel still had no idea what was going on, but he had a feeling that it 
was something that the other man would be able to use against them, if he 
detected it at all.

"No - I have a better idea," Kona'a said with a smile.  "I shall have my 
shen write my name on you herself, to remind her whom she must obey.  And 
then, I shall punish her for daring to cause harm to a guest under my 
roof."  He laughed, delightedly, and in that moment Daniel knew what 
insanity sounded like.

"Shen," said Kona'a, still laughing, "come here."  In his - her - vision, 
Daniel watched as she came closer, shivering and cradling the knife in 
her hands like a living thing.  "You know how to shape my name, do you 
not?"

"Y-yes, Sh-sharma Kona'a," she whispered.

"Go on, then," he replied cheerfully, "put my mark on him - here," and 
Daniel saw through her eyes, saw the man's finger reach out and touch him 
on the chest, caressing the muscle just above his heart.  He could see 
the sweat trickling down his own sides as Kona'a drew a symbol there with 
his fingertip.

Daniel struggled uselessly as the tip of the knife was placed, so 
carefully, so gently, against his chest where Kona'a's finger had been 
just a moment before.  Her terror seemed to fuel his struggles; his 
breath was coming in little panting gasps, and he was making muffled 
grunts in the back of his throat.  Praying that some trace of their link 
remained, he willed the shen to hear him, to realize, "no, you can fight 
him, you don't have to let him do this to you - you can save us both, 
don't - don't..."

As he watched through her eyes, the knife began, slowly, to trace a 
vertical line on his chest.  "Don't do this," he thought at her.  The 
knife was so sharp that Daniel hardly felt it at first; "no, fight him, 
fight him, you can do it -"  Blood began to well up