hi. This is a post. Haven't been on a computer all weekend. Got to go research stuff for senior project. ttyl bye.

Quote of the day: "Captain, where there's a will, there's an or."

Question of the day: Why can't more people be better in school?

Ted's question: Why can't you stay home from school?

I'm bored.

Can't you tell?

I'm bored.

Bored as...

;) j/k I'm just totally disillusioned about school right now. It's slow. It's boring. Our assignment in computer class today was to make a new file and save four images in it. HA! What a joke! That took a grand total of two minutes, and only because I was picky about it and wanted to get the pics off my flash, but the school computers don't load flashes unless you're logged off when you plug them in.

I starting reading again this morning--Timothy Zahn's Spinnerette--and found out I only have the first quarter. It's a tough call now whether to continue or to stop. I don't want to get a whole quarter of the way into it and not be able to get my hands on the rest. But anyway. Hopefully the prologue was enough to lure my muse back. Okay, so obviously not since I"m on here.

Hey, I"m going to go type up a letter to the principal. ttyl.

So... I've gotten complaints that I don't update often enough, and since I said I would during the "activity period" today and never did, I'll go now.

PHysics--boring as usual; went over circular motion for a while then started programming our SAM-bots. We had just typed in a piece of program when the bell rang. I was late to purpose.

Purpose--Not much here. Added a couple phrases in "Shogakun" and started getting ready to send "Take Care" to F&SF. I'll work on it more next week. Just wish it were quiet in there so I could work.

German--Not used to seeing nude mermaid pictures. Not sure I want to be used to it, either. All well.

Webpage--Good class for multitasking. I read "Shogakun" *and* did my work; the teacher goes too slow. Waaaaay too slow. Maybe it'll be better next semester.

English--What's his name keeps poking me. I am so going to flip out one of these times. I warned him, so it's not really all *that* uncalled-for. Presentation tomorrow about the perfect school. Only two-thirds of our group actually contributed. We tried, but the other girl didn't talk. Her loss, hopefully.

Calc--Russo wasn't there today. Made me sad; the student teacher is incredibly boring. Russo can at least disguise the fact that you're going over old material by using humor. The student teacher thought we'd never gone over it before. I worked on tonight's homework all period.

Acting--I was so looking forward to it, but alas, today was picture day, so the juniors took over the auditorium, which meant we couldn't do our stage fighting. :( So we played Mafia in the chorus room with a deck of cards we weren't supposed to have.

Econ--slow. But I guess that's okay. The teacher's entertaining, at least, so it's not so bad. I got my life somewhat organized, at least, as much as I can without actually doing anything. He says this chapter's hard, but that's only because we're working with graphs and their applications to real life and the explanatory variable is on the y-axis, which is stupid. C'est la vie.

Forgot to remake the Halloween invitations. All well, Maybe I"ll do it over the weekend. But I did at least engineer two fake people for the party. One is an ominous figure in all black with a mask, so without looking carefully, you can't tell whether it's a real person or not. I attached to him the hand I usually hang from the ceiling and the "bloody" sword with a trigger so that when someone moves one of the chairs, the sword should move. But it doesn't work, as is true with most of my MacGyverisms. The other is a white ghost I usually have on the ground. She's hanging this year, though, complete with dangling high-heeled shoes.

I was thinking I might be a pirate this year, but I went with faerie instead (can't spell that word anymore). It's cool. Soft, black dress with teal, lace sleeves and curly, sheer, black, sparkling wings. It has potential.

Okay, I didn't mean to get on here, so I'm going to go to sleep. Good night.

Okay, guys! Who's happy? That would be me!

After a long and harrowing evening last night, trying to figure out the calculus part of physics that we almost covered in time for the test today (which went well, except for the last question, which I found two answers to), I am finally having a good morning!

So, anyway, getting an answer on the physics test was a plus.

Second period, I got called up to the guidance office while I was trying to work on Legacy. Nothing bad, just good news. But apparently, no one's really supposed to talk about it until they officially release the information on Sept. 13th. Okay, Caleb? September 13th!! So, I'll get to work on that then.

Third period was good, too, which is the real reason I'm on. I HAVE A FAN!!!!! One of the people from German got on last night and read THE ANNOUNCEMENT--the ENTIRE thing, and he loved it. He also read the first chapter of Legacy and is looking forward to more, and he says he's going to read "the rest," which could be embarrassing, considering how much worse they are. But if he enjoys it, more power to him.

And he says that I should send my ideas to the writers/people in control of stories at Stargate and see if they'll use it. Someone else suggested that, too. It just seems a bit presumptuous to me. I don't want to just write to them and say "Hey, a bunch of people really like my stories; would you like to use them for an episode/arc?" I mean, it'd be really cool, but it's also pretty gutsy. I don't think I could. But it's exciting to think that someone could get excited about my story. It's cool! I'm happy!

I'll go back and work on the third chapter of Legacy, then, since the good news from the guidance office took me away from it during study hall.

Y'all have a nice day, now, ya hear? I may be on again later!

http://www.gateworld.net/news/2006/08/fans_rally_savestargatesg1.com.shtml

thinking on screen for ideas for a snippet of writing...

what do you say when you and the person you're trying to encourage are both overwhelmed with grief? Is there anything you can say?
wow. this is really depressing. I don't feel like feeling depressed. What else can I write about? Legacy's pretty much a sad, dark story, despite . *mwa ha ha ha ha*

Ha, guess it doesn't matter.

Space Pirate

I always wanted to be a pirate. You know, the kind of pirate you read aobut in books with real paper pages. The ones who pillage and plunder and say cool sayings like "Shiver me timbers" and "But why is all the rum gone?" Okay, so I always knew they could keep the rape bit; that's far from getting on my to-do list. But the real draw of being a pirate, the part that everyone fantasizes about, is the freedom. There's nothin' holding you back because the law's already against you--and you're too swift and smart to be caught.

I always wanted to be a pirate. I just never had the finesse to really pull it off.

****

"What do you mean I can't go back to my ship?" A red-headed woman in a torn, soiled, but form-fitting flight suit slammed her fists agianst the counter in the Contraband Regulation Office of the United States.

The calm, brown-haired officer behind the counter spoke slowly. "Your ship and its contents are evidence against you in your upcoming hearing. Now, you have had the right to be silent since you entered." He laughed, as though the statement held some sort of humor. "Anything you say violating your Fifth Amendment rights will be used against you. You don't need an attorney yet, but if you want one, you'll find a way. You know the rest. Please don't resist as these officers escort you to a detention facility."

"No, look, I don't have any 'contraband' on my ship! Nothing! I'll leave if you want, go out to that new Alpha Centauri settlement..."

As calm as the man behind the counter, a pair of uniformed police officers stepped forward and each took the woman by an arm. She grasped the far edge of the counter and held on so tightly that her knuckles turnedd white. "Please, if nothing else, tell me what you found that makes you so sure I need to be locked away!"

The man didn't look up this time, but he did at least respond. "Human remains."

"What!" The woman jerked in the officers' grip and anchored her elbows over the counter's edge. "What do you mean you found human remains? There's none of that on my ship! You've got the wrong captin; mine's teh one that looks like wood--the Black Nebula. You've got the wrong ship; c'mon!"

Annoyed, one of the police pried her up with his shoulder and carried her out. All the while, she pounded steadily on his back.

****

Okay, so I'm a peaceful pirate. Sort of like Robin Hood. I don't do it for the riches; I only take what I need to keep going, and the Nebula's not fancy. I meant what I said back there; there'd better not be any 'human remains' on my ship, or someone's gettin' dropped at the next port. I don't kill people, and I don't want anyone to be harmed. If I stole so much from anyone that they can't live anymore on what they've got, well, they're welcome to come with.

Besides all that, I just plain don't want no one to be rottin' away on my ship! Dead bodies clog up the life support systems, and that's not something I want to have to replace!

OC Spin-off of one of the early Stargate episodes....


Though the second honeymoon was his idea, Vinnet chose the vacation location. As things turned out, it was no longer the secluded retreat she recalled it to be.

The couple stepped out of the Stargate onto the doorsetp of a primative village. Wood and cloth huts were barely distinguishable over the village's rope and cloth perimeter, especially since the builders seemed to have found no dye whatsoever. Or was the dye merely an indistinguishable shade of brownish-tan?

As they stood staring, a group of armed horsemen stormed from the cloth boundary and approached, strategically surrounding the two. One stopped directly in front of them; he appeared to be a leader, though his wicked-looking bow looked just as strong and well-used--and deadly--as the others'. "Why have you come?"

Sarah frowned up at him; she had enough greater experience than her husband to know that the planet should have been deserted. "Excuse us, but we came to partake in your local resort. Can you direct us there?"

The mounted men exchanged surprised and disgusted glances, and their leader glared directly at David Rice. "You should know better than to let your woman speak in public, especially without her face covered."

"What?" He frowned, unnerved by the obvious inequality here.

"It means death," the leader explained, "but come. Perhaps if this is her first offense, an arrangement can be made for her continued well-being." He nodded his head behind him to the village, and he and the other horsemen rotated their mounds to face it, allowing them to herd the strangers safely into a confined area.

***

Immediately upon entering the cloth boundary, Sarah was jostled into a separate part of the encampment, one in which all the occupants were female and clothed in flowing skirts streaming from tight or modest bodices. From there, she ofund herself ushered into a tent and provided with an embroidered blue dress. Only one of the seemingly ever-present crowd remained: a motherly-type woman with kind, almond-shaped eyes and tangled black hair. "Go ahead and change," she commanded, her tone soft but stern, in the same tone that tells a child that his mother is angry but attempting to remain calm.

Having caught a scent akin to rancid meat, blood, and body odor mixed together, Sarah skeptically lifted the gown with two strategically-placed pinches. "This? Do you realize how glad I was to be done with fancy gowns after I accidentally tore my wedding dress?"

The matron eyed the Tok'ra's clothes with an equal amount of skepticism. "It is an affront to our integrity when a woman wears a man's clothes."

She frowned, taking in her spaghetti-strap shirt and embroidered bell-bottom jeans. "You're not going to find many men wearing anything like this."

"But it is not a skirt." She pushed the blue gown closer to the younger woman. "Put this on before I dress you myself!"

Sarah reluctantly obliged after her symbiote reminded her that they would have to find their husband before attempting an escape; a raucus in a dressing tent might lead to his demise elsewhere. As she turned around and remorsefully exchanged her comfortable clothes for a gown that was too tight and too long, the matron grabbed hold of her left hand and tugged at its adornment. "Rings are only for the rich, girl."

She clenched the hand into a fist and jerked it out of the matron's clawing fingers. "Touch it and die," she bit out, not thinking of the words' literal meaning. "Clothes don't mean much to me, but that ring is a symbol, one I'm not about to forsake."

The matron's eyes narrowed. "I can make you do little, but it would do you well to obey the man who will see you after me."

Sarah rolled her eyes as she puleld the dress on and barely managed to close it. "I doubt it. I'm not in the habit of completely obeying anyone, even those I'm closest to and respect the most," she admitted, thinking of how often she ate chocolate against her symbiote's wishes.

The woman stepped forward and sinched the gown tighter to the Tok'ra's body. "You had better start. There are consequences here you aren't accustomed to."

She gasped witht he force the woman used and thanked Vinnet that she was healthy enough to deal with less oxygen. "Not just peanut butter or this suffocation?" She received a glare that was a clear no. "All right, well, I didn't mean to come here; can't David and I just leave?"

"That is up to him--if Munro and Pansin have no further interest in either of you."

Sarah slowly turned back to fully face the matron, becoming astoutly aware of a misplaced catch digging into the small of her back and the fact that she would either have to lift her skirts--thereby keeping her hands full most of the time--or take very small steps--thereby limiting her motion. Either way, the dress served as an effective means to limit her potential as an adversary. Glancing to the other's clothing, she noticed that it lacked the same drawbacks; the skirt ended at her ankles and appeared formless and baggy rather than tight and restrictive.

She dismissed it for the moment, figuring Vinnet would think of a solution at the opportune moment. "You just watched me change, and I don't even know your name."

For the first time since she entered the tnet, a smile became evident on the old matron's wrinkled face. "I am Jalali. How are you called?"

"Sarah, and my symbiote's name is--"

"Irrelevant," Jalali insisted, unfamiliar with the term. "Come. Pansin wishes to meet you as soon as you are decent." From an indistinguishable pice of furniture by her side,, she picked up what Sarah had assumed to be a handkercheif, though now she saw that it was attached to an elaborate headdress that was suspiciously the same shade of blue as her dress. "Put this on, and cover your facce when you leave this area."

The Tok'ra took it from her then stared at it as if it had bit her. "This is heavy!"

Jalali chuckled gently. "That's the price of beauty, girl." She moved behind Sarah and yanked on her long hair in a manner that could have had some constructive purpose. "Hold still."

"It's hard when you're ripping out my hair," she replied, with ann abortive attempt to face the impromptu hairstylist.

But with most of her hair locked in Jalali's grip, it succeeded only in lifting her hair off her neck. As he subject settled again, the native ran a rough-edged fingernail along the thin line of a scar, sending shivers through Sarah. "Could you please not do that?"

"How did you get this scar?" she wondered, tracing it wagain ith her fingertip.

Usually unwilling to discuss it and now in a bad mood, Sarah glared emphatically at the wall in front of her. "It's personal."

Jalali's voice grew stern again. "Who hurt you?"

She turned around slowly, this time with the other's consent, as though any eye contact might permaturely end her unappreciated protectiveness. "My friend had no intention of hurting me, and she did her very best to heal it afterwards. Now, if you don't mind, David and I would love to get all the formalities over with so we can go home."

Jalali motioned for Sarah to turn back around, but she refused. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but will it be good enough if I braid it?"

The matron nodded. "It will suffice."

Sighing with the first relief she'd felt so far, Sarah fixed her hair with quick, well-practiced motions. "What now?"

*

Jalali led the Tok'ra to another cloth barrier, and theree had her don the headdress, which Vinnet complained stressed Sarah's neck too much. The native woman calmly strapped a veil across her own face then across Sarah's, hiding everything but their eyes.

*

David watched helplessly as the crowd separated him from his wife. Despite his desperate attempts to break through it to get to her,, he could not overcome so many. For him, she was more than just his wife--she was also his tour guide and protector when off-world. On the previous world they'd visited, the mere mention of the fact that she was a Tok'ra brought her more prestige than either of them thought necessary. Apparently, the smae would not work here.

He was helplessly herded by the horsemen to a hut in the center of the village; there, two of them dismounted and shoved him inside. A minute later, the lead horseman entered and reclined on a nest of cushions in the cneter of the back of the tent. He indicated a smaller next of cushions a few feet in front of him, and David nervously sat there.

"Where are you from that you do not know the laws?" the young, black-haired leader demanded.

"A planet called Earth, why?" David shifted on the cushions; was it the pillows or his anxiety that made his position so uncomfortable? "What laws do I not know about?"

The black-haired man blinked in surprise. "The laws protecting women's modesty. When you arrived, your woman was wearing the clothes of a man, her face was uncovered, and she spoke without being spoken to."

"Yeah...?" He glanced around at the primative style of the tnet, at all the weapons and outdated signs of wealth. Then he turned his attention back to the leader, a sinking feeling of foreboding settling in him. Just because the Stargate was extremely advanced technology, it didn't mean that all the places it led were anywhere near as advanced--technologically or socially. "I just don't have a problem with that. I know she loves me and she wouldn't cheat on me; that's all the assurance of her 'modesty' I need."

"That's not enough for everyone. Laws and laws. If we forsake one, we might forsake any and foolishly exchange order for anarchy."

David frowned. "The women on Earth violate your laws all the time, and we don't have anarchy," he mumbled, suddenly amazed at women's achievments in the United States.

Apparently, the man didn't hear. "Such audacity as your woman showed is usually rewarded with death. Unless you provide ample reason to do otherwise, I must carry out the punishment."

"Okay..." He sighed, trying to think of anything that might help. "When we came, we weren't aware of your laws. We didn't even know anyone lived here."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is ignorance an excuse for murder where you come from?"

"No, but it's a factor in determining a just punishment." Realizing the difficulty he'd endure defending his wife, David felt his skin go numb and a cold weight settle in his stomach. "Another factor would be... the consequences of killing her. She has powerful friends who would avenge her death." He didn't know for sure if that were true, but he was certain that either the SGC or her fellow Tok'ra would use whatever means available to them to free her--if only he could convince this primative madman not to kill her first.

The "primative madman" nodded thoughtfully. "Then perhaps you are right and death is not the best form of retribution, especially her death. After all, it was your responsibility to teach her proper and modest behavior."

Gulping with sudden trepidation, David realized his mistake: they were her friends who might avenge her. "Wasn't that her parents' responsibility? I haven't been married to her long enough to break any habits."

The man smiled slightly, and relaxed back into his next of cushions. "I will consider that."

Before either could say anything further, the curtain over the doorway whipped aside and two figures in flowing skirts entered, stopping just inside and letting the curtain fall back into place. The leading figure, dressed in brown, bowed respectfully, but the one clothed in expensive-looking, embroidered blue fabric walked around and sat beside David, leaning gently against him. David, unaware of who was behind the embroidered veil, leaned away slightly. The leader glared at the whole show then glanced at the brown-clothed figure.

"Please wait outside, Jalali."

She bowed her head. "Yes, Pansin." Then she retreated to the other side fo the curtain, and he turned his attention back to the couple.

"A woman does not sit with a man while he conducts business."

They eyes above the veil narrowed, and the blue figure got up and leaned against the tent's central support column instead. "Of course not," Sarah's voice replied.

"Nor does she speak without being spoken to," Pansin added.

She shrugged, innocently glanced at the ceiling, and barely caught her headdress before it slid off her head.

David stared at her. Yes, he recognized her eyes and posture now, but seeing her dressed in such a way, he could barely recognize anything else. He shifted in his seat, divided between the urge to stand with his wife or sit and "conduct business" with the Mongol. "You're not going to be able to keep her under your laws for long; you'd better let us leave," he cautioned.

Pansin shook his head. "We still have not carried out just retribution for the breaking of our laws."

David glanced nervously at his wife, wishing their roles were reversed. "Did you have something in mind besides anyone's death?" He glimpsed the further narrowing of Sarah's eyes and the slow, steady rising and falling of the veil; she was trying hard to control her temper, and for some reason, Vinnet hadn't taken control.

The leader's grin made him nervous before the Mongol even spoke. "We will separate you. This will teach you that you do not deserve a woman if you cannot control her and will teach her how to be a woman."

Sarah raised her hand half-heartedly into the air. Sensing that he finally might have some control, David responded, "What do you this of this, Sarah?"

She straightened up from her relaxed pose immediately and moved to stand right behind him. "This is ridiculous! We've got enough roles going on how that we don't need to take on some primative society's perception of what a woman's supposed to act like. If you agree to this mikta's terms, willingly or not, I'm going to ask Vinnet to deal with this, and she won't be peaceful about it. Our next plan of action, regardless of this guy's 'sentence' is to take you and go home.

"And, David, if he needs convincing, remind him of Vinnet's centuries of espionage and the extensive combat training associated with that." Finally done with her rant, she glared pointedly at Pansin.

The Mongol leader frowned, but still addressed David. "You let your woman talk like that?"

David nodded. "She is more knowledgable than I am about these things; I like to hear her assessment. Besides which, she's right. Vinnet has probably had enough of your prejudices."

"And who is Vinnet?"

Unsure of how to explain, David glanced to his wife, though he knew Pansin wouldn't let her speak unless spoken to. Maybe if he appeared to be completely in command, he could convince the Mongol to let them leave. "Vinnet is a warrior who..." Many cultures hated the Goa'uld and for good reason. Would this culture punish his wives for their existance? "...who travels with a cloaking device, which makes her invisible, and who speaks only to Sarah. She's impatient with this delay in our travels." With the veil over his wife's face, he couldn't tell if she was smiling or scowling.

Pansin's expression, however, was perfectly obvious: a self-satisfied grin. "You threaten me with a voiceless phantom? Do you take me for a fool?"

"She's not voiceless; she only speaks to and through Sarah." He looked up at his wife, the visible one. "Does she have anything to say?"

Sarah nodded, closed her eyes, and looked away for a moment, completely hiding the flashing eyes that meant Vinnet had taken control. "You know me too well to question whether I would like to speak," she answered, not bothering to hide her voice. Unlike her host had, she now turned to Pansin. "Unless we have anything further to discuss, David and I will now leave."

With a speed none fo the three had expected, the Mongol leapt from his cushion nest and backhanded her across the face. "You know our laws now; there is no excuse to defy them."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Vinnet punched him in the stomach, swept his feet from under him, and pinned him to the floor. "Both Sarah and my husband warned you I would not stand mroe abuse. You now have two options: let us leave peacefully or struggle now and suffer the consequences. I am not as mild as those I travel with."

The Mongol leader struggled slighly against Vinnet's well-placed grip. "It is disgraceful for a woman to fight; you need to learn how to be a woman."

"Tok'ra do not have gender. We all fight or study or lead, regardless of the gender of those we fight through."

Pansin shook his head, and with a twist of his wrist, drew a knife from his felt and jabbed it into her torso. Alarmed, Vinnet slammed his head hard against the column her host had been leaning on, knocking him unconscious. Then she retreated to heal her host's body.

David looked even more alarmed than her symbiote felt. "Are you okay?" he shouted.

Trying not to go into shock, Sarah stared down at her bloodied bodice. Not really knowing what to do since her symbiote was ignoring her, she pulled the knife out with a pitiful grunt.

Almost as much in shock but aware they had to stop the bleeding, David took the knife from her hand and cut off a portion of her gown then bundled it up and pressed it against the wound. Then, as gently as he could, he laid her flat on the ground, hoping gravity could help stem the bleeding. "Hang in there, Sarah, you hear?"

"Dave, he pulled a knife on me. We weren't going to hurt him, not if he cooperated. But he stabbed me. Vinnet says it's the intestines, liver, and Bauch. He could've--"

He clapped his hand gently over her mouth. "Save your energy for Vinnet. We'll be okay." He raised his voice, and looking to the tent's door. "Medic! We need a medic in here!"

There was no response. "Healer," Sarah corrected.

He nodded. "We need a healer!"

Jalali poked her head in then immediately rushed to Pansin's side. "Are you okay?" She checked his pulse then tried to wake him to no avail.

"He might have a mild concussion," Sarah whispered, "but Vinnet thinks he should be fine."

David relayed her words to the matron, leaving out the mention of Vinnet. "But before he passed out, he stabbed my wife!"

The matron called in two of the horsemen from outside. One watched over Pansin while the other held David away to allow Jalali access to Sarah. The matron knelt beside her and peeled away the sticky strips of fabric to study the wound. "This is not good."

"Tell me about it!" Sarah moaned. "I'm not going to be able to eat until tomorrow night!"

The matron replaced the bandages as they were and placed her hand on Sarah's forehead, looking seriously into her face. "You may die. It is the spirits' judgement of your crimes."

"Your spirits had better answer to my God."

Jalali turned back to David. "Continue to place pressure on the wound if you want her to live."

He nodded, pulling free of the guard's grip. "And keep her quiet and concentrated on healing. Right."

She nodded once and fled from the tent. The two horsemen glared at him but said nothing. David returned to his wife's side, pressed one hand with the fabric against her wound, and held his other hand to her cheek.

Slowly, her eyes opened, and she glanced around the tent, her gaze finally settling on him. "Now would be a good time to get out. They won't expect an injured person to run away."

"Maybe because you can't?" he reminded softly.

Her shoulders twitched in an imitation of a shrug. "It'll hurt, but even if I get worse, I'll be much better off among the Tok'ra or at the SGC. Plus, it wouldn't scar as badly. Not to mention that we'd get out of this whole mess."

"Shh." He pressed a little harder with the fabric. "Save your energy."

"Dave, this isn't chocolate ice cream. I wouldn't suggest it without Vinnet's consent. She's working from the inside out to avoid internal bleeding; the inside's much better than it was. This might be our only chance."

He nodded to indicate the horsemen. "With them here?"

She looked. "Seth and Sokar, I thought we were alone when Jolly left." she leaned back more fully. "Some honeymoon. It would've probably been better if the Goa'uld had retaken this planet."

"Why?" He had never heard her speak in such a way concerning the Goa'uld.

"They wouldn't go through this biased junk. They'd just say 'You're a Tok'ra. I don't like you. Let me kill you' and we'd get on with it, not like this drawn-out parody of the workings of Congress--"

"Sarah?"

"Yes?"

"Get off your soap-box."

"That's kind of hard to do while I'm lying here, trying not to bleed all over the oriental rug."

"Just try."

A third voice broke in. "You said something about silence?" Jalali reminded as she entered again, followed by a younger girl carrying a package probably containing medical supplies.

"We were just discussing your culture and the possibility of cutting our honeymoon short," Sarah explained loudly. "The healers back home have medicines that would make me better in minutes."

Jalali took a leaf from her assistant, removed the bandage, and placed it inot the wound. "Impossible. But this will take away your pain."

Sarah jerked as the leaf touched her. "No more! Please, no more. Dave, don't let her use any more of that. Take it off!"

Both of them frowned. 'What's wrong?" David asked.

She settled a little, but met his eyes pleadingly. "That plant is the active ingredient in the serum Ra used." She had told him the horror story several times. "If it paralyzes Vinnet, I might die! Keep it away!"

Without consulting with the presumed "healer," David pulled the leaf out, cut a clean bandage from his shirt, and applied pressure again. Then, to clam the miffed native, he held up the bloody leaf in his other hand. "She's alergic to this."

"it will numb the pain," Jalali insisted.

"It numbs more than just the pain, and she needs that to heal."

The matron frowned but nodded. "We need to move her from here."

David worriedly glanced to his wife, who nodded her consent. "We'll be fine by morning; moving now won't make much difference."

***

Jalali left them in an underfurnished by unoccupied tent, presumably alone for the night. Restlessly torn between caring for his wife and getting ready for bed, he sorted through the few belongings they'd brough while Sarah slept. Nothing had the potential to help them. He finally decided to sleep, though it was still early int he evening. Before he did, however, he pulled away the bandages on his wife's abdomen to check the wound.

Sarah shifted slighly and unhooked her veil, at last revealing her face. "Okay, now I feel better." She sat up slightly, resting on an elbow, and rubbed at her eyes. Then she gazed inquiringly at David's probing fingers, which met only intact skin.

"Vinnet did a good job for only a couple of hours," he commented.

Her eyes flashed. "Thank you, though it is my responsibility to heal my host." She sat up farther and pulled the headdress off. "Where do we stand concerning our departure?"

He shrugged. "We could probably go now if you're up for it."

"We could recover from worse, if need be. We should have left long ago. I'm sorry, David. That may have been our best opportunity."

"I would think so," broke in a third voice. The couple looked up to see Pansin had entered, followed by a pair of henchmen. "My father and I have decided on a punishment for your crimes." His smile was sickening. "We will relieve you of your woman since you cannot handle her. She will then be beaten and sold."

David's voice was slow and low, giving the impression of a patient strength and fury near its ignition point. "You have unfairly detained us all day and denied us our freedom. We spoke reasonably, to no end, and when Vinnet clearly expressed herself on your terms, you stabbed her and now plan to subject us to mroe injustice. Where does it end, Pansin?"

"I just told you. That will be the end."

How many numbers?6
Number?14
Number?2006
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Number?20
Number?06
Number?00
Number?-.1
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Number?Number out of range. Please enter numbers between 0 and 100.
Number?Number?-1
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Number?-.02
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Number?Number out of range. Please enter numbers between 0 and 100.
Number?.2

oceanic_sentry's Xanga Site: "Wednesday, June 14, 2006"

*grins* I feel special. Not because of his pain but because he thinks of me.

Feel lucky. He's nice. But I won't say too much about it, because I know he reads this. ;P

Confluence begins in:

Viel Spass

Here?

Here?

Perhaps here?Kein.Odd.

Just messing around with html.

Quote of the day: Truth depends greatly upon perspective. The varience between two perspectives is enough for each to call the other's truth falsehood.

Your Linguistic Profile::

70% General American English

15% Yankee

5% Dixie

5% Upper Midwestern

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

How You Life Your Life

You have a good sense of self control and hate to show weakness.You're laid back and chill, but sometimes you care too much about what others think.You prefer a variety of friends and tend to change friends quickly.You tend to dream big, but you worry that your dreams aren't attainable.

How Do You Live Your Life?

Your Theme Song is Beautiful Day by U2

"Sky falls, you feel likeIt's a beautiful dayDon't let it get away" You see the beauty in life, especially in ordinary everyday moments.And if you're feeling down, even that seems a little beautiful too.

What's" Your Theme Song?

Word of the day: merg.

So I've got computer access during school again, after I went over my notes for my English presentation today. So I went to dailysudoku.com, figuring it was something of a constructive, school-related activity, especially since some of the teachers have assigned sudokus in math classes. But, no, the idiotic firewall has it blocked under the category of games. Miff!!!

Gtg, just got an idea: google image search for sudokus!!

A CONTINUATION OF THE TWEEN STORY

A day later, Sarah reclined on her bed, reading a new science fiction novel and trying to ignore Vinnet's incessant explanations of the fiction's impossibilities. In the middle of it all, the phone rang, but she ignored it as per the rules of grounding. In the next room over, she heard her mother answer it.

"The Air Force?" she seemed to repeat after the voice on the other end. "What do you want now?"

She listened and replied, "By now you should know by heart every last detail, especially after that Senator Kinsey came to ask her more questions. It's a wonder you don't--"

Silence. "From what I've seen of him, I agree, but that kind of language is unnecessary." It was probably Colonel O'Neill on the phone; few others would have the audacity to use strong language when speaking of a member of Congress.

More silence. "Well, then, I want to listen in. Classified or not, I am her mother, and I want to know what you're saying to my daughter." A short pause. "Yes, I know what classified means but--"

Sighing, Sarah stood and ventured out of her room into her mother's office, where she caught her attention and whispered, "I'll tell you what's going on; just let me talk to him."

The mother reluctantly handed over the phone. "Be quick."

Sarah nodded, and focused on the phone conversation. "What's so important that Mom couldn't take a message?"

"Thank you!" O'Neill breathed. "Tell your mom thank you.

"The High Council called this morning, said they'd need a pair of hosts soon--don't know how they know. It's probably some sort of test."

Setting her head in her hands, Sarah frowned. "They couldn't have picked a worse time."

"They probably conspired with Kinsey to have it work out that way," he replied.

Vinnet surfaced suddenly, allowing Sarah's mother to see the flash of her eyes and O'Neill to hear her modified voice. "The Tok'ra would not sink to such a level!"

The colonel released an exclamation of surprise. "For crying out loud, could you give me some warning before you do that! Is her mom still around?"

"No, she left the room," Vinnet lied, gazing over at the parent.

"In all honesty," she continued, "this may be a good time to take a short leave. Senator Kinsey has caused much trouble here, which may die down with time."

"Someone will pick you and two others up on Saturday," he commented. "If you can't find anyone by then, don't worry about it."

"I will," she promised just as he hung up. She did likewise and turned expectantly back to the mother. The two gazed at each other in an uneasy silence similar to that shared between two strangers who each believe the other is attracted to their significant other.

"You said you'd tell me what's going on," the mother reminded flatly.

Vinnet nnodded slowly and allowed her hoset to speak again. Sarah sighed deeply before beginning. "I did. And it's more complicated than I thought it would be. "

"Colonel O'Neill believes you about this... alien?"

Sarah nodded. "Absolutely. He was only worried that you might've heard."

"Okay." It was good to know that this Air Force Colonel wasn't concerned about her daughter's second personality. "Why did he call?"

"Before we came back, we promised the High Council that we would do something for them. They're ready now."

He mother raised an eyebrow skeptically. "What High Council?"

She bit her tongue, nervously deciding what to say. "The ruling body Vinnet answer to. They're the ones who decided to let us come back."

"With what stipulations?"

"I have to help them continue their existance in the same numbers."

Aware of only one interpretation of the cryptic statement, and oblivious to the fact that Vinnet's species reproduced asexually, her mother started into a panic. "Sarah Elaine, you're too young to do that, and you're already promissed to get married first! I'm not letting you throw...."

The Tok'ra gazed at her, confused. Halfway tino the heard of the speech, she understood where the misunderstanding originated. "Mom," she interrupted loudly, "I said I'd help them keep the same numbers, not more. They don't have kids!"

"Then what in the world are you talking about?"

Sarah hesitated, unsure that her mother would appreciate the real answer any more than she had the misinterpretation of it... or any more than Kinsey had when he'd heard. "They need.... um..."

"Spit it out already!"

"Hosts," she finished reluctantly. "They can't survive long outside of humans, and when their hosts get old, they need new hosts."

The mother frowned deeply and came into the room to sit on her office chair. "Is that... sanitary?"

"Yes, Mom. They're clean enough not to overwhelm the combined immune system. But that's not the point."

As you know, I come on here most reliably at the end of the school year, on the random days when I have absolutely nothing to do and access to a computer. Two periods and lunch ago, I finished my last final this year....

FROH!!!
HAPPINESS!!!

Anyhow...

How 'bout a random update on life, the universe, and everything?

At the moment, most people in my class are reading something, though there's a cluster of spoons-players across the room from the back corner where this computer is. I was working on Legacy, but I decided to come back here and check my grades. Despite the sudden windfall of good luck concerning my history and English grades, my finals brought them back down to solid yet high Bs. There's still a little hope for English, though; I got five bonus points for buying the literary magazine. Dunno if she's put it in yet.

As for other things... Most of you know how much of an anti-conformist I am, so you could hardly know how much it pains me to admit this, but... I got a boyfriend. He's sweet, too, writes me poetry, compliments me... I'm not sure he doesn't deserve someone who knows him better than I do, so we'll see what happens. It's a long distance relationship, and I'm not sure our summers are going to be clear enough to get together any time at all, and once we go to college... Well, he's thinking Duke in North Carolina, and I'm hoping I might be able to get a bunch of scholarships and go to MIT... (Pardon my redundancy in saying "Duke in NC," but I get Duke confused with Duquesne in Pennsylvania.) So... This is all in God's hands.

Oh, Ted's doing well now. The swelling on his face is almost gone, thanks to the vet pulling the offending tooth and the subsequent use of Clavamox. Now if he can just manage not to tick off any birds.... Oh, right, didn't I say? Yesterday, he was out in the yard and chased a young bird to the fence, where the bird escaped into the neighbor's yard. But that managed to tick off a quarter of a flock, and they dove after him for a couple minutes. He seem all right. Extra proud of his bravery, if anything.

Still not progress on the Announcement. Miff. I stink at anything that relates to romance. Why didn't I wait ten years before writing this plotline?

But I've been thinking about Legacy since I ran out of books to read and couldn't get caught up in Childhood's End by Arthur C. Clarke. I tried to figure out the plot, but I can't get it to fit on one piece of paper. Especially once I try to figure out the alternate plots, which should thoroughly frustrate people. Maybe I'll post some of it later, some of the alternate, even though people won't have a clue what's going on.

I love typing.

It's fun.

It's fun to type at a "normal" speed and have people look over and say "That's crazy! How can you type that fast?" Of course, I've only been around computers since I was five... Behold the myriad benefits of having computer programmers as parents. Not that that year of being absolutely obsessed with the internet and everything in it didn't help my typing....

Hey, by the way, people, GOD IS AWESOME! Just though I'd say. You know, in case I hadn't mentioned that before. Songs of the day: "Undefeated" by Audio A; "All Around Me" by Audio A; "Get Down" by Relient K; and the edition of "Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher" by Audio A. There's nothing better than listening to Christian rock for an hour and a half before really having to face people in the morning; you get all pumped up and close to God and then see the people who don't know much at all about you and don't care to. It's a lot easier to be a Christian when you're in touch with God. Yup. I would be the one who wrote "Paster Don: 'As long as there are math tests, there will be prayer in school'" on my cheat sheet (legal) for my math final, which went very well, thank you.

Speaking of finals, my health teacher stopped by the gym this morning and told me I was the first one to score 100% on the health final in years. I hardly studied for that; I just fleetingly glanced at my notes and did the homework that was due and made educated guesses on the multiple choice and matching.

Thank you, God, for regular, non-honors classes!!! That's the light point in the day.

Okay, I should get going. Legacy isn't really calling, but I should work on either that or the Announcement.

Studying for stats, I decided to use ff.net stats for practice problems, and I want to share my findings, which really annoy me. It appears that the number of hits explains only 12% of the reviews in the Announcement, though overall, on my account, it accounted for 48%. Miff. I thought people were nicer than that. It also appears that, overall, only 2% of hits on a story result in a review. That's pitiful!!!

My meager two percent.... the faithful.... thank you.

I know I haven't gotten on in a long while, and I know some people, at least, read this. Frankly, I think I'd prefer that only people I know would read it, but c'est la vie.

Where to begin after so long, for those of you who might actually care about my life?

I just got asked to prom last night, and I never expected it. Unfortunately, it's in another state, and I'm not sure my parents will let me go yet. Of course, I'll have to finish my English essay before then, because it's due the Monday after and I'm taking the SATs on the same day as the prom. That ought to be fun. "Here, let's wear myself out with a big honkin' test and then go party the night away like I never thought I would before." Seriously, I doubted anyone would ask me to my own prom (and no one probably will), let alone someone else's. But he broke up with his girlfriend recently and really wants me to go with him. I'm... astonished. Maybe this could kick-start a writing spree on the Announcement, if only I weren't completely sleep-deprived, which is why I'm typing on here: I can think of nothing else I have the energy to do, which has been my chief reason for avoiding computer time in the last year.

Anyway, out of energy on that subject. There's not much to say yet.

School. Is. Wretched. Or, rather, inane. Yes, there's a good word for you.

Gym. What's the deal with assigning homework in gym? It's a physical class, for crying out loud; there's no place for homework! I'd rather just go out and play catch afterschool if we have to do something outside of class. *evil glare at teacher*

Statistics. Boring. Confusing. Take your pick. The teacher's great, really, but after a while, it's just too much of a routine. And what's the deal with having ten different ways to get an answer for whether or not a claim is correct? On the other hand, it could help me with my senior project, especially now that I've got a crusade to go on. (More on that later.)

History. As usual, can't stand it. It's too much work for people who're dead or forgotten by now. It'd work better if it just covered the notes and we could all listen without the threat of a test. Basically, history isn't worth an hour, let alone forty minutes a day.

English. Finally, the English assignment I've always wanted, and just at the point in the year where I want to just ignore school. My essay's supposed to be a literary critique on The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it so far. Finally, science fiction is recognized as acceptable fodder for high school English classes! I have hope yet! And if/when I'm an English teacher, my students will so be reading Mara Jade's fan fiction and identifying all the wonderful rhetoric she uses.

German. I abhor Wochenende! I hate going in on every Montag morning and having to talk about my weekend. Ninety percent of the time, I don't do anything interesting or anything I ever want to talk about. The other ten percent, I don't know how to express it in German, and I don't care enough to share it in English. They don't need to know what's going on in my life. I'd just as soon post everything on the Internet... sooner, in fact, as is evidenced by this post!

Physics. Still sick of the teacher, just like everyone else. His teaching style isn't as bad as last semester, but it's still getting more tedious, nerve-wracking, and generally ridiculous as the year progresses. I was an idiot to sign up for AP Physics next year and to consider it as a career. But basically, I don't know what I want, and no one wants to give me a direction.

Health. For as horrible of a concept as it was, the teacher makes health a surprisingly okay class. There's a bunch of characters in that room, just as there are in German, and when combined with the teacher (not the student teacher, mind you; she's pretty bad), it makes for a pretty entertaining blow-off class. Of course, I don't listen hard to any of the self-improving advice given; like others, I feel incredibly good about myself and don't think I need to improve myself on that front. Just try to prove me wrong.

So my crusade, since I know you're all sitting on the edge of your seats. They cut the funding for the arts at my school... I think. That's what I've heard. So. I'm ticked. They have enough money to put stinkin' astroturf on the field and to give it traction with itty bitty pieces of tires. But, no, they can't fund the arts, which force kids to learn discipline and often give them motivation for going to school. And not only that, but apparently, they're also discouraging kids from taking band or art. What the hey?! You can learn so much more from those classes--more practical things--than you can in health (ooh, yes, condoms are more important than pianos or graphic design... not). Do they have any idea how important graphic design is to our culture? If all the graphic designers suddenly died, our world would basically fall apart. People wouldn't be as subject to impulse buying, suddenly, which would probably send the economy into recession. Oh, yeah, we need economists but not graphic designers? And they keep saying that we need to be creative, but they're cutting the legs from under the programs that stimulate and encourage creativity!! We need the arts. I'm not even an artist--I play two instruments about once every three months, I only do cover art, and it's not professional at all, I can't do much of anything in front of people--but even I know the arts are extremely important. I'm a writer, and though it's part of the English department, technically, it's very closely related to the arts. It requires thought, hard work, and creativity, just like any other art form. They have no basis for reducing the art program, not even their precious standardized testing crap. (And those of you who know me know how very rarely I use that word. But it applies here.)

The STC's, as I shall now refer to them, carefully hiding the true name of the test, do nothing for us students. And isn't that what education is about? If you need to measure a student's progress in school, don't you DARE take the time out from the student's learning to do it. I like AP English. It's one of the top two English classes I've ever taken, by a far margin. What do the state and school board think they're doing, depriving me of the class I earned the opportunity to take? If they're trying to get me to learn, how dare they make me learn less just to see if I have, in fact, learned anything? The same applies to math. CHS Stats is one of my favorite classes. Why, then, did I have to put my learning and understanding on hold just to show the state/school board that I learned something last year? Those contradictory, uncaring bureaucrats!

Okay, rant over. Probably. What else?

Oh, there's a foreign exchange student over, the main reason for me being on even less than normal. She's been here for three weeks, but she's going home Wednesday. We get along okay, but we're not best friends or anything. It's been tough, for both of us. At first, they (she and her mother) preferred convenience over the custody arrangement, which would never fly, especially for me. I'm not going to throw a boulder into a calm swimmingpool just to make a stepping stone to the other side. I'll swim--it might be wet, but it leaves smaller ripples. Well, we've got small ripples now, though it's been hard to put up with the crowded bus for a week at a time. Then she had a problem with my church, or my youth group, it's hard to tell which. So now we're comfortably speaking about a hundred words per day to each other. It's frustrating, but I'm glad for the experience... and I'll never do it again. I say again: I'm greatful for this opportunity. And I'm living alone or with only family until college; Mom is not allowed to adopt until I'm out of the house.

*sigh* I miss my dog. I haven't seen him since Sunday. He's the cutest dog on the planet, and he loves me as much as my parents do, and they're my best friends.

Which reminds me. My best friend my age is sitting on a steel fense the width of a razor blade. Her parents want to move back to California by next year, but she's got only one more year in school. They keep setting deadlines for the house to sell or for her dad to get a job there and then setting them back when they're not met. It's horribly frustating for all of us. But then, I guess she was doomed to move back as soon as she met me--it happens to all my best friends. But maybe just this once for just one more year it won't. We'll all be leaving after that. And her parents say it's because of her mom's asthema (which was only better there because they keep going to smoke-filled restaraunts here and the humidity's higher), and the better job opportunities (which was why they moved here), and the better school (they don't want her to be stressed out next year, even though our school here is actually better), and the better church (if they'd stop comparing every church to their home church, they'd see that we have very good churches here; they just need to get involved). And to top it all off, they say they don't have any friends; their friends here stopped talking to them. But the thing is, there are hundreds of people here who would gladly be their friends and adopt them into a community of fellowship if only they'd let themselves meet them!!! I know plenty of awesome people their age! And, look, it took me six years to know them. But now I'd rather not leave the church because they're so cool.

*sigh* People annoy me. My muse annoys me. I annoy me.

I'll go take a shower.

Legacy Scrap
(Same as before--Announcement ch 14 spoilers. Same ones, I think. Maybe not. Just typing to see what people think.)

David waited nervously in a room with Dehrwin, hoping only that Sarah wouldn't find out what he was doing unless everything turned out okay. "Tell me one more time why I should trust this guy?"

Dehrwin rolled his eyes as he sat on a chair beside the door, relaxed. "He is a Tok'ra, and they are allied with the Tau'ri."

He shook his head; the information was no comfort when he already knew it. "So just because we're allies, I'm supposed to automatically trust this guy?"

"You believe he may be untrustworthy?" the Jaffa replied disdainfully.

"I believe I don't like having to trust someone I don't know," he replied tersely. "Can't you tell me anything else about him? What's he been up to in the last year?"

The Jaffa, who was easily twice as massive as David, sent a warning glare his way. "Many times, it is extremely obvious that you are Tau'ri."

Suddenly, the door opened, allowing in the subject of their discussion and closing again. Vandrof scanned the room, taking note of its occupants. "You wanted to see me?" he asked Dehrwin, who pointed to David.

"We met once," David said. "You already had your host by the time I got there."

Vandrof frowned. "You left shortly after that. We didn't have time to speak." He glanced behind him to Dehrwin then back to the human. "Why are you serving as a lotaur?"

David shook his head. "Only after you tell me why you're serving a Goa'uld. Sarah's pretty freaked out about that."

"Wait," Dehrwin broke in. "Why did you not say before that you knew each other?"

"We don't know each other well," David answered, not taking his eyes off Vandrof, "but we apparently should."

Vandrof nodded. "I have not seen Vinnet since she obtained permission from the council to remain on Earth for another year. How is she?"

"She was doing fine until you showed up," David replied venomously. "Whatever you told her while you were chatting, it really unnerved her."

Dehrwin's eyes widened, and he interrupted again. "You lied to me! You said you wanted the Goa'uld out of Senane, but you don't, do you."

"Not now, Dehrwin," Vandrof replied. "No one wantts to see any harm done to her." He turned back to David. "Tacita is not a Goa'uld, but she does not want Vinnet to know. This entire palace is a test designed to show the character of those who request to serve her. I was sure she'd pass until I heard that she'd brought a lotaur and Jaffa. None of us ever have lotaurs." Both he and Dehrwin looked to David for explanation.

"If it makes you feel better, she told me not to come," he admitted, "but I promised her back on Earth that I wouldn't let her go. When I caught up with her offworld, I was able to convince her to let me tag along."

"You had to convince her?" Dehrwin interrupted disbelievingly.

Vandrof nodded impatiently. "The Goa'uld in the throne room of this palace is, in fact, a Tok'ra, a friend of mine." He turned his attention back to David. "And of yours as well. But who are the Jaffa?"

"How do I know I can trust you with their identities? Vinnet feels responsible for their well-being; I'm not going to poke holes in their safety net."

"Despite a shift in priorities, I am still who I've been--I have not changed as much as Vinnet has."

"I think it's that priority shift that's got her worried."

Vandrof's eyes shifted uneasily from David to some indeterminate infinity behind him. "The highest priority of any Tok'ra is to protect Egeria and to futher her cause. Ever since Egeria was lost to us, her cause has been in the forefront of our minds. But now some of us have to switch back to our previous committment."

Legacy
(Warning: Announcement chapter 14 spoilers)

After finally getting his wife calmed down, David roamed the caste's dim, high-ceilinged halls in search of water for both of them. After twenty minutes, he found what appeared to be a kitchen, though it was a far cry from the kind of kitchen he was accustomed to. He wildly began searching the bizzare cabinets for cups, sliding open many of the stone and gold doors with enough force that they rebounded from the end of their tracks. Two cabinets in a row, he heard extra bangs and suspiciously spun to find a tall, muscular Jaffa in full armor, whom he recognized as Dehrwin, one of the Jaffa Tacita had sent.

Suddenly nervous at his presence, David bowed exactly as Vinnet had taught him and straightened up while watching the Jaffa's toes. He couldn't help but notice that Dehrwin
had cornered him the first time he left his wife's presence. "May I help you?"

Dehrwin's loud, demanding voice unnerved him even more than his imposing presence. "How long have you served your master?"

He shrugged, belatedly realizing a real lotaur might not. The real answer was that he didn't serve her, but he couldn't say that. "About a year."

"How often does she treat you poorly?"

David quickly glanced up to see Dehrwin's expression, but there was no emotion to be read. He still had no clue explaining the Jaffa's purpose. His mind reeling for an answer, he improvised. "She treats me much better than I could ever deserve." It wasn't a lie, and it even sounded humble and subserviant--score one for the fake lotaur!

"Is that so?" Dehrwin retorted. "I heard she reprimanded you this afternoon." He stared at David's folded hands. "Did she also bruise your hands?"

"Yeah..." He looked at his hand, where Sarah's extra-strong grip had been focused while she gave birth. "Um..."

The Jaffa's voice softened. "You need not be treated in such a way."

He frowned, desperately trying to rein in the frustration he felt at not being able to truthfully justify his wife's actions. "You weren't there; you can't judge her by the result of a situation you're unaware of. I was there for her when she needed me."

"I understand your loyalty, but you must not sacrifice your well-being for it."

"It was an isolated incident," he insisted, now forgetting the humble servance facade and glaring at the Jaffa.

Dehrwin stepped forward menacingly. "If you continue in her service, it will no longer be an isolated occurance."

"You don't know that, because you don't know her! You've only known about her for a single day." Shaking his head, David took a quick, deep, calming breath. "You've only been around her for less than a day. After a while, you'll see that she wouldn't do anything to me. Besides, why do you care?"

The Jaffa lowered his head and his voice, as though he were revealing a secret. "I believe in freedom for humans and Jaffa. The Jaffa already have a strong start; humans are still subject to the oppression of the Goa'uld."

"So do you see me as an equal?"

Dehrwin hesitated just a little too long.

"That's fine. It's just a question." He had asked only to determine where he stood in the other's mind. "And it sounds like you're very noble. But I'm not feeling at all oppressed at the moment."

"Vandrof said Senane used to live among the Tau'ri. Is that true?"

He took a moment to recalled what "Tau'ri" meant--Earthlings--before answering cautiously, "Yes."

"Then you are a Tau'ri?"

He swallowed, wondering if he was about to get into trouble. "Yes."

Dehrwin shook his head. "Then how can you have no complaint here? I have heard much of the Tau'ri; they are the ones who end systems such as we have here. How can you be content with that?"

At a loss for an answer, David shrugged. "I just... can."

"Is her host a Tau'ri as well?"

"My wife."

Dehrwin nodded his understanding. "So being her lotaur, you have ample opportunity to sabotage her efforts until you can find someone to remove the Gao'uld and restore your wife to you."

"Of course." It was so nice of him to provide David with a cover story.

"I can do that for you."

The Tau'ri panicked for a moment; he couldn't really let anyone remove Vinnet, who was as much his wife as Sarah was. Then he feigned regret at a lost opportunity. "The SGC gave me this mission. They want me to find out as much about her and where she same from as I can--in case any more Goa'uld can make it to Earth the same way. So until I know that, I can't let you do that."

A bright grin grew on Dehrwin's face as he listened. "We could always interrogate her first."

"No! I couldn't put her through that!"

"But you could allow a Goa'uld to control her, to invade her mind that much longer?" the Jaffa snapped, disgust clear in his empathetic tone.

"To prevent others from going through this? Yes!" Beginning to wonder if the other believed him, David hoped he wouldn't have to resort to the truth; his wives would be furious.

"Interrogation would be an effective means to get that information in a time frame that would allow you to prevent any similar Goa'uld action among the Tau'ri."

"When I say no, I mean it," he insisted, his voice growing louder. "The other Jaffa, the ones she brought with us, are intensely loyal. If they hear wind of any action against her, we're both going to be up a creek."

Dehrwin frowned, missing the meaning of the phrase. "Then when you have your information, how will you put it to use?"

"I'll contact the SGC, who'll send a team here to extract us. I've got it under control. All you should do is create a diversion for the Jaffa when the time comes."

The Jaffa seemed to ignore him. "You could obtain the information you seek from Vandrof. He seems to know much of Senane."

"Yeah, he does." But if he were really a traitor to the Tok'ra, would he be safe speaking to him alone, even if the information he obtained could be valuable to Vinnet?