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Entry tags:
- !location: pod caverns,
- !plot: pod release,
- 779/splicer,
- alexander,
- azula,
- chancellor,
- chases-parked-cars,
- clark kent,
- daniel jackson,
- fifth doctor,
- gertrude yorkes,
- hilde schbieker,
- hogan bight/crucible,
- ildraniath,
- inara serra,
- jara hamee,
- john-117,
- kaya,
- lion-o,
- lord zedd,
- mami tomoe,
- mewtwo,
- midna,
- miranda lotto,
- neville longbottom,
- nima,
- old lace,
- rory williams,
- ryuunosuke ikenami,
- sabrina,
- sarah kerrigan,
- serah farron,
- shiori,
- snow villiers,
- sofia,
- sterling malory archer,
- superboy (yj),
- takeru shiba,
- ter'thelas,
- yuna,
- zam tolen
Podpop
[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | Instructions: Post your character with one post establishing them as being podpopped. Tag each other in groups of 2's, 3's, and 4's, to get some interaction to start with. If a thread doesn't already have 2 or 3 people tagged in, tag it with your character's podpop popping near the other people, rather than making a new subthread. If you would like to play out them talking to the AI, please send an email to the mods making the request--we do this only by request. Then move onto the big Newbie Meeting. Once your character has gotten the rundown from the old crew, you may start posting entrance posts and freely tagging.]
||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounds out to all the podmates through the ship.
In the Pod Caverns, there are the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.
There is condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slide out onto the floors, covered in slime.
--
There was nothing. You were going about your normal life, then there was a bright light, and then? Nothing.
Then the world lurches.
The chamber here is humid.
Actually, "chamber" isn't quite accurate. You're in a cavern, half-lit by an eerie greenish light, going on and on as far as the eye can see. The light is coming from what can only be described as pods, glistening, round greenish-yellow things, glowing with a pale inner light, outlining human -- and not quite human -- forms. Each is rooted to the floor, to the walls, with something black, twisted, and unidentifiable.
They line the walls of the cavern, go up in maddeningly high columns, curling and corkscrewing up into the darkness, until the light from them is like that of the stars, glowing pale and mournful in clusters in the darkness above. Twisted walkways and stairs crisscross, traverse the platforms in front of the pods, wending their way back and forth, up and down through the chamber.
You just came from one of those pods, broke free like a butterfly from a (slimy, nasty) chrysalis.
Now you stand alone but not quite alone, naked, not knowing how you got there, who took you, or why you were taken.
As your body heats up again, you realize the air is warm -- just a few degrees too warm to be comfortable -- and muggy; it smells acrid and organic, like freshly spilt blood and sweat. Your mouth tastes of salt.
The floors are pulsing under your feet, throbbing...
Wherever you are, this entire place...is alive.
Oh, and also you're naked and covered in alien snot.
When you call out, ask where you are, a voice speaks to you, in your head. She tells you:
||You are here.||
When you ask who she is, she tells you that her name is STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT, but that you may call her Stacy. When she tells you who she is, there is a gush of emotion, love, maternal warmth. You are on a ship. She is that ship. Her name is Stacy and she loves you. Her voice is warm and motherly, even if these messages sound almost automated.
Glowing phosphorescent lights appear in pustules along the floor. They lead you up a massive spiraling walkway that gives you a view of what are possibly millions in stasis. At the top is a room with moving vines that clean you and clothe you in a plant-like body-suit--soft, but durable. After that, the lights lead you to a great cavernous room with a clear floor that lets you see all the holes and tunnels in the walls of it. When you reach the center, the last thing she tells you before whisking you away to gather your belongings and meet the rest of the crew is this reassuring thought:
||You have been Chosen to accomplish a Great Purpose. You have been Chosen to help fight the Ohm, a race of insectoid beings that are the destroyers of worlds.||
||You have been Chosen as champions of life, as protectors of the worlds and peoples that are left. The others are waiting for you. They will explain everything.||
She will tell you nothing more. Your answers lie with these "others" she speaks of.
||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounds out to all the podmates through the ship.
In the Pod Caverns, there are the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.
There is condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slide out onto the floors, covered in slime.
There was nothing. You were going about your normal life, then there was a bright light, and then? Nothing.
Then the world lurches.
The chamber here is humid.
Actually, "chamber" isn't quite accurate. You're in a cavern, half-lit by an eerie greenish light, going on and on as far as the eye can see. The light is coming from what can only be described as pods, glistening, round greenish-yellow things, glowing with a pale inner light, outlining human -- and not quite human -- forms. Each is rooted to the floor, to the walls, with something black, twisted, and unidentifiable.
They line the walls of the cavern, go up in maddeningly high columns, curling and corkscrewing up into the darkness, until the light from them is like that of the stars, glowing pale and mournful in clusters in the darkness above. Twisted walkways and stairs crisscross, traverse the platforms in front of the pods, wending their way back and forth, up and down through the chamber.
You just came from one of those pods, broke free like a butterfly from a (slimy, nasty) chrysalis.
Now you stand alone but not quite alone, naked, not knowing how you got there, who took you, or why you were taken.
As your body heats up again, you realize the air is warm -- just a few degrees too warm to be comfortable -- and muggy; it smells acrid and organic, like freshly spilt blood and sweat. Your mouth tastes of salt.
The floors are pulsing under your feet, throbbing...
Wherever you are, this entire place...is alive.
Oh, and also you're naked and covered in alien snot.
When you call out, ask where you are, a voice speaks to you, in your head. She tells you:
When you ask who she is, she tells you that her name is STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT, but that you may call her Stacy. When she tells you who she is, there is a gush of emotion, love, maternal warmth. You are on a ship. She is that ship. Her name is Stacy and she loves you. Her voice is warm and motherly, even if these messages sound almost automated.
Glowing phosphorescent lights appear in pustules along the floor. They lead you up a massive spiraling walkway that gives you a view of what are possibly millions in stasis. At the top is a room with moving vines that clean you and clothe you in a plant-like body-suit--soft, but durable. After that, the lights lead you to a great cavernous room with a clear floor that lets you see all the holes and tunnels in the walls of it. When you reach the center, the last thing she tells you before whisking you away to gather your belongings and meet the rest of the crew is this reassuring thought:
||You have been Chosen as champions of life, as protectors of the worlds and peoples that are left. The others are waiting for you. They will explain everything.||
She will tell you nothing more. Your answers lie with these "others" she speaks of.
no subject
No. Not like water. Too thick, too slow, too heavy. The air moved like sludge, like slime. Hot and thick and clinging, strange-smelling like.... like life. Like the sweat and blood of battle, like the birth-mess smeared on the cave floor from Ket making Toby alive. Like the pus-filled heat-hurts that came from Dracon beams coming close but missing. They had to be stuck with a blade--just so, very gently, and made to weep and smell until they were empty, so they could heal without becoming worse wounds. Toby had said so, and Toby was a Seer. It must be so.
No, this was not like water. This was like having your head pushed into a Yeerk Pool. A Yeerk Pool!
The terror and utter rejection were immediate and intense. Jara Hamee bellowed and struggled, bringing his blades to bear. Slash! Slash! A broad gash opened in the sticky-soft wall holding him in place, ragged edges trailing from both wrist blades. Slash! Slash! A second gash was opened with his knees. He sank his talons and claws into the edges and pulled--
The pod ripped open far too easily. The excessive strength sent Jara flying out of his pod, still choking and bellowing in his own native tongue, thumping and rolling on the ground until he skidded to a stop, nearly plowing into a prone human figure only a mere handful of feet away. He leapt to his feet and stretched to his full height the instant he was able, serpentine head turning this way and that to look for danger. Slime dripped from his blades, rolled over his eyes and beak, glistened wetly against his dark hide; his already goblinesque figure was only made even more ghoulish by the sickly yellow-green light that glinted off his blades and cast shadows over his sharp features from all angles.
Not the most pleasant sight to wake up to, really. Especially without even being able to put on some glasses, first.
Before. Behind. Side to side. Down. Up--no danger, not yet, just lights. Lights and humans, and a few creatures that he had no name for. Many, many lights along walls that had no end, that opened into vastness, that.... that were the stars at night. That were.... Mother Sky's flowers.... in her Great Tree. Mother Sky's flowers were opening. Were spitting out people, humans and non-humans alike. He had.... he had blossomed in the Great Tree....? But how? When--what had happened to....?
He shouted again. Louder now, more purposeful, voice rising like a raptor's shriek. "Kalashi? Kalashi!"
Ket Halpak did not answer. But instead, in his head, a voice spoke. Not the powerful and wise voice that had sent Tobias to guide them to freedom, but.... A voice that pulsed with life like the floor beneath his feet, like the lights that surrounded him. A voice that made him remember sleeping cradled in his mother's arms, nestled safe and warm against her chest. A voice that made him remember holding Toby so carefully in his own arms for the first time, gazing into tiny red eyes that were bright and clear and different. A voice that felt the way it felt to be curled up with Ket together in the night, hands clasped and horns touching and tails entwined, talking until they could no longer see anything in the darkness save each other.
This voice was Love. These lights were Flowers. And Mother Sky was telling him her name.
no subject
He was just gathering himself to get up to when there was an explosion of activity nearby. A roar came from behind him, one so deep and feral that it shook his very bones. Daniel turned to look. The archaeologist wasn't prepared for what came next. Something large charged at him, nearly bowling him over. It just barely stopped on a dime, but Daniel's senses hadn't quite registered that. His eyes had only caught a giant blur coming at him. Daniel flinched and fell on his side in an effort to get out of the way. His body reacted a lot faster than his brain. Daniel's brain was too busy running in circles at what just happened and what was coming at him. His body was suddenly far more useful. He was already curling in on himself instinctively, trying to minimize himself and to protect his vital organs. Daniel was in a fetal position, head tucked against his chest, arms wrapped around his skull, before he'd even registered that the thing had stopped in its tracks.
His brain finally caught up with the rest of him, and helpfully added that well, now he also looked a lot less threatening, which was a good idea when dealing with most potentially hostile people. Unless he was dealing with someone from a culture where any sign of weakness was something to be snuffed out. Then he might be in trouble. The archaeologist remained where he was and held his breath.
When nothing happened, no claws or teeth going into him, no feet stepping on him in a rush, Daniel peeked out between his fingers. So he wasn't attacked yet. That was a start. His eyes slide upwards. Not human. Definitely not human. He could tell that much at least. He didn't need 20/20 vision to tell that was a sinuous neck, some nasty blades somewhere on it, and a shade of green made ghastly by the lights. The alien looked massive, even more impressive when it reared to full height.
Kalashi? What was that? Something seemed to answer it, because it went very still. He listened intently. He couldn't hear anything outside of the squishing plops of people falling from their pods or the squelches of the floor and walls.
"I-I don't think they're here." Daniel told the large mass hesitantly. He hoped that talking wasn't going to set it off. It was probably a better idea to keep quiet. Jack had accused him more than once of never knowing when to keep his mouth shut. Maybe if he remained where he was for now, no sudden moves, he could try to talk to it.
no subject
Or maybe there was no need to cover yourself, in the arms of Mother Sky. That seemed just as likely. Mother Sky loved all her children. There was no need to be ashamed, or afraid, or uncomfortable.
But the human spoke, confirming what Jara had already thought; it didn't take too many steps to close the distance between them, and he planted his hands on his thighs, bending over the man to look him over more carefully. Stacy's words, at least, seemed to have reassured him; he agreed quite calmly. "No. Kalashi not here. Human here. Many humans. Human hurt?"
no subject
He started to uncurl very slowly and hoped that he was right.
The alien opened its mouth and spoke. Daniel gaped. English. It spoke English. Not perfect English, but it was still English. He'd been expecting a completely new language, one that he'd have to try and learn it all on his own quickly, with no common threads to tie back to any of the ones he already knew. That was even if he could speak in ways they could register at all.
Relief flooded through him.
"No, not hurt." Surprised, nearly had a heart attack, slimy everywhere but no, not hurt. "Who're you? Who's Kalashi?"
no subject
He supposed the fact that the human wasn't hurt was probably more important. Jara lifted one hand to pat himself on the chest. "My name, Jara Hamee. Ket Halpak, my kalashi. My...."
Stiff and inexpressive though his face was, his eyebrow ridges still furrowed as he struggled to find the right word; obviously--and understandably--English was not his first language. It seemed best to use it, though; all the humans he had ever met so far had spoken this. He nodded decisively a moment later as he remembered, voice confident once more. "My kalashi. My wife."
"Who is human?" Jara leaned back a bit, offering a large clawed hand to Daniel to help him up and trying to keep his blades from raking forward too far with the gesture; it was always awkward to do things like this with humans. With the blades sprouting from his arms and legs, not to mention his claws, it seemed that any friendly gesture needed to be ridiculously careful and slow to ensure that he didn't accidentally slice soft human flesh. Humans cut very easily, healed very slowly, and bled a great deal--it was hard not to cut them, but at the same time, it was much worse to do so.
It must be hard, always having to worry about being hurt. Poor humans....
no subject
It was probably just him.
Daniel pulled himself into a cross-legged position and looked up in the alien's general direction. Luckily Jara Hamee was big enough that he didn't have trouble making out that motion. He touched his chest in return. "Daniel Jackson."
Kalashi. Wife. Ket Halpak was probably her name, although he couldn't be sure which was a first name and which was a family name. Or if his culture even operated on that system. That told him a few things, aside from just giving him a new word to learn. Their culture formed ceremonial bonds. Kalashi.
For a moment, he forget he was sitting buck naked in slime. He thought only of Sha're. They were both separated from their wives. Even if he did come face to face with her again, Sha're was still enslaved by a damned Goa'uld. Thor's Hammer was destroyed and even though he'd spent nights wracking his brain, he couldn't see how they could safely remove Amaunet. And who knew where Ket Halpak was right now. The first thing Jama Hamee had done was cry out for her in a panic.
Daniel rubbed at his eyes and sighed. "I see, thank you. Maybe she's here. We could try looking for her." More like "we" being "Jara", because Daniel wasn't much help on the vision department right now. He could provide support though.
He looked at the offered hand. The part of his subconscious that sounded a lot like Jack thought Jara Hamee looked a lot like he was a walking meat grinder. Much as he disapproved of Jack making those blunt (and rude) assumptions all the time, he had to admit, he... did kind of look like it. He just hoped he could find somewhere to grasp without slicing himself open. Daniel gingerly took Jara Hamee's hand and let himself get pulled to his feet.
no subject
"Could look." Jara agreed pleasantly enough, carefully folding leathery fingers around Daniel's hand. He tightened his grip to ensure that the slime wouldn't make their hands slip, easily hefting Daniel back to his feet; he glanced at his companion questioningly. "Could look for others. Like Toby. Daniel friend have people for looking?"
no subject
Sounded like a plan then. He didn't know exactly who this Toby was. Maybe a friend or colleague of Jara's. The big question now was where did they start? He supposed it didn't actually matter. All the pods looked the same and as far as his myopia was concerned, there wasn't any identification on them.
"I hope so," Daniel said truthfully. He didn't know how long he'd been gone. He didn't even know what just happened. "They'll send out a search and rescue if anyone's missing long enough." He could only trust that Jack, Sam and Teal'c would look for him. That was if everything was okay. The last he'd seen of them had been under fire. God, he hoped they got out safely.
Until then, it was up to them to search around themselves. If they could find a way back before they got rescued, all the better. He went to the pod next to them, one that hadn't opened and tried to peer inside. "Is this Toby a friend of yours? They came with?"
/delves into the intricate linguistic secrets of making shit up
Not that it meant they had no culture at all; certainly not. But did anyone think to ask about it, or stop to consider beyond judging the lack of sophisticated intellectual pursuits? Hardly.
Jara turned his head a bit to make sure Daniel was steady and had a clear path, shaking his head a little and drifting after him. One look at the pod assured him it wasn't a Hork Bajir, dim though the shadow was through the walls of the pod; there were no blades that he could tell, and certainly no tail. He peered at the silhouette of the next. That one looked human, too.... Was looking at the pods the right idea? Maybe it was wasting their time. If the flowers hadn't bloomed yet, then they shouldn't force them--it wasn't yet their time. "Toby Hamee, my kalari. My daughter. Toby not with Jara Hamee before this."
He looked back up instead, up towards the pods rising above their heads for what seemed like forever. "Daniel friend friends will look here?" He couldn't help but sound slightly dubious, even with an honest question. They were far, far away from home here.... And nobody could look in the world of the dead for their friends, could they? You had to be dead to climb the Great Tree to reach Mother Sky. He rather hoped he didn't find Toby, or Ket--or any of Daniel's friends, for that matter==, just because it would hopefully mean that they were still safe and sound.
Still, they had to try. Not looking for their friends and family here.... well, that seemed like it wasn't very nice at all. They would wake up lost and alone and scared, too, with nobody around that they cared about to make them feel better. "What Daniel friend friends like?"
roflmao I'm going to have to join you right about now
Daniel moved onto the next pod. This could take forever. A lifetime. They had to at least try.
"I'm sure Toby's safe. She's probably just worried about you."
He didn't have any way of knowing that for sure, but he was trying to reassure the alien. Jara obviously cared a lot about his family, but hopefully her absence from his side had saved her from this.
Another humanoid. No blades or long neck, so it couldn't be Toby or her mother. He could barely make out a face. He didn't recognize the woman. Daniel moved on.
He wished he hadn't asked that question just then. It only brought to light that they really didn't know where this was. The chances of them finding him weren't good. They could easily be outside the gate system. They could even be galaxies away. They could search for him for years and never find him. Space was a big place. If anyone was going to get him out of here, it was going to have to be himself.
"I don't know. I mean, I don't even have a clue where we are," he admitted. Maybe Sam could come up with something, but he wasn't seeing it just yet. "There's Jack O'Neill. He's like my boss." the archaeologist cast around for a term that might be more familiar. He really didn't know exactly how their society functioned just yet. "Like a pack leader," he added.
Except for the part where Daniel argued with him left and right over just about everything under the sun. He was a civilian, Jack was military for life, and it frustrated him to no end with how quick Jack was to go for the arms solution to every single problem. "He's a friend of mine. So are Samantha Carter and Teal'c. They're warriors. Like a brother and sister to me but not by blood."
It wasn't covering it perfectly but Daniel was trying to explain as best as he could. Preferably without brandishing the SGC all over the place if he could help it.
XD Whoooo failguistics~ \o/
He had grieved in his hearts to let her go alone. But he would not have held her back for anything.
Just as she was needed to help restore the Hork Bajir to their home, so too had he been needed to help their own home, to keep the Valley together in her absence. Their own Hork Bajir could not have done easily without them both.
Jara followed Daniel more closely now, listening to the descriptions to try and keep them in mind, to try and understand. "Jack O'Neill like elder?" A pack leader, a boss, he knew what those things were. He knew from when he had been infested; the thought made him scowl, his menacing visage only made even more savage with the unspoken anger that seethed quietly beneath it. "Or like Visser...."
But no, Daniel was nice. This Jack O'Neill couldn't be like a Visser, could he? Vissers were terrible and cruel, and Daniel wouldn't be friends with such a person. He did his best to push the thought aside, and consider the somewhat more realistically troubling one that presented itself instead. A trouble that....
Well.... honestly, he found the thought of where they were to bring him more pain and regret than fear. And he was not used to thinking so abstractly, to considering maybes and what ifs and possibilities.... to theorizing the way he was starting to now, if only a little. But what he saw now seemed to fit so neatly into what he knew, it seemed sensible to at least ask. He knew what he believed. But if Daniel thought otherwise, then maybe he could show that it was not so.
"Daniel friend.... You and Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter and Teal'c friends before in danger?"
and fail understanding each other here
Daniel moved on, slowly making progress, aware that Jara was shadowing him. It looked like his explanation wasn't too terrible.
He almost laughed despite himself. Jack, an elder? Well, he was older in that sense, but as elder elder? In the most general sense of the term, an elder tended to be someone who could lead, offer council and had an intimate grasp of the lore and ceremonies for a social unit. Jack was someone who thought mythology was a load of bull. He didn't have time for it, for their own history. He was the commanding officer, had more battle experience in one pinky than Daniel would ever have in his entire life, but Daniel wasn't too sure he and Jara were talking the same thing right now. There was definitely a language barrier going on here.
Daniel had to put his face within a few inches of of the slimy surface just to get his eyes to focus on the next pod. He didn't quite see the scowl that darkened Jara's face, or the way it had twisted it into something even more fearsome. Why didn't he pack his contacts this time? It would have made this ten times easier. Then again, it wouldn't have mattered if he did, because they'd have been taken along with his clothes anyway.
"We're almost always in danger. You'd think we'd get used to it. Jack's not exactly an elder, no. Maybe the other one," he replied absently. "Visser... I'm not familiar with that title. What do you mean exactly?"
XD Definitely. Considering the species barrier though, I'd say they're doing pretty well so far.
Elders and Seers were the closest he and his people tended to come to leaders, though apparently this Jack was not one of either--or at least, not an elder. Shouldn't it have been mentioned if he was a Seer, though? Seers were different. It was the sort of thing one had to know. Daniel's question was enough to make him forget his earlier question for the moment, the theory he had been trying to articulate in his mind; Jara's expression darkened into utter contempt, and a soft, hissing bubbling rose from low in his throat, cut off as his neck snapped forward so he could spit on the floor.
"Visser. Visser meaning of much high Yeerk. Tell many Yeerks what do. Much power. Much terrible things."
Not bad for a first day
Daniel thought he saw Jara's shoulders shaking.
...He was laughing.
Daniel focused on what he was saying, trying to shake off the instinctive chill that had just frozen his spine at the laugh. His heart felt like it'd just skipped a beat or two in surprise as well. Okay so he knew they had an enemy, the Yeerks, and he think he had Jara's species name down in the same go. Hork Bajir. It sounded like there were two factions of them, and that Toby was part of the new Hork Bajir.
Jara had seemed so peaceful earlier that despite his fierce appearance, Daniel almost thought him incapable of violence. He was rethinking that assessment right now. Hatred seemed to darken every movement, muscles and blades shifting and suddenly he was reminded that Jara could do a lot of damage if he felt like it. Jara's head reared back like a cobra striking and he spat rudely on the ground. No mistaking that gesture.
"Jack's definitely no Visser then," Daniel answered firmly. Jara was angry, and while he should tread carefully, which logically meant not provoking him by continuing the subject, he needed to know more. "Jara. Can you tell me what the Yeerks are?"
Not bad at all~
But he was certainly not mindless; he knew who his anger was directed at, and why. Jara took a moment to scratch at his chest and arms, gathering up tacky half-dried slime and rolling it between his palms. It wasn't a very good demonstration, and while the slime was solid enough to be worked, it wasn't as sticky as it should have been to hold together properly. Still, he managed to create a loose, lumpy shape perhaps two inches long, something that could very easily fit into one of Daniel's hands. "Yeerk is small. Small like this." He brought it closer so Daniel could see, movements carefully controlled as he offered it to him.
He didn't back away, once the gesture was offered--Jara stayed close, bent low to watch Daniel's face, one claw held up to point very purposefully at the human's forehead, right between his eyes. (Bang.) Maybe his obviously intimidating size was being used purposefully now, to impress upon his new friend how dire the information was, or maybe he just wanted to watch closely and make sure he was believed; either way, his eyes were fierce, and his voice low and serious, even as he struggled to find appropriate words to make his description.
"Yeerk get in your head, and head is not yours. Body is not yours. Voice is not yours." Jara moved--slowly, now. Jerkily, a puppet being tugged along by its strings, tail moving from side to side, arm lowering and raising, fingers clenching and uncurling by degrees.
"Yeerk in your head, and make you do things; you do nothing. Can do nothing. Only scream! Scream in head, and nobody listens. Nobody hears. You are nothing. Then only for Yeerk." As non-vocal as his species tended to be, pantomime seemed almost more appropriate than the explanation; his head jerked to one side, his tail to the other, taking a step back and abruptly rearing to his full height. Sharp, purposeful movements now, the imaginary puppet strings snapping.
Finally, finally, he lowered himself again--the gesture was almost like a bow, as he planted his hands on his thighs, shoulders bent and neck arched to display the top of his head to Daniel. Along with the three sharp horns sprouting from it, a thick, ragged scar curved from his forehead to nearly the base of his skull, marking a blow that looked like it should by all rights have left his head in two pieces altogether. The anger had bled out of him at some point during the explanation; his voice was calm now, steady, crackling with intensity of purpose. "Jara Hamee has his own head. Jara Hamee will free other Hork Bajir. Jara Hamee kill Yeerks, or die. Never again."
Re: Not bad at all~
Daniel's mouth went dry. It was crudely made and not perfect, but he had a pretty good idea what it was just by the size and general shape. It looked like it could've been a larval stage.
The Hork Bajir indicated the archaeologist's skull with a talon, a move that reminded him suddenly of an an oncoming bullet. That wasn't quite how the Goa'uld worked. They wrapped themselves around the spine, then wove filaments into the brain. But they didn't just settle directly onto the brain itself. It was possible that Jara's people didn't have a word or concept for a spinal cord. They probably just combined it and the brain to mean the thinking mind if they didn't specify those body parts.
Jara remained too close, right past his personal space. Red eyes glared into his as he did his best to explain it in his broken English. He explained what Daniel was already familiar with. Worming their way into you, destroying your free will, of everything you were or stood for, a complete perversion and violation of a person while some damn snake walked around wearing your body and voice. Jara spoke of the watching, the way a host was forced to watch and the screaming into a void. Something of the host survived. And they saw everything. Daniel was barely aware of his hand trembling under the slime model.
It looked like words failed him, because Jara seemed to change his mind, instead focusing more on portraying it another way.
With a growing horror, Daniel remained where he was as he watched Jara's pantomime. Not because he thought Jara was going to lash out or go crazy, but because of what this other language represented. It was frightening accurate. It was like watching what Sha're and every single host was going through. English wasn't exactly Jara's strong point here, but his skills at non verbal communication were absolutely perfect. Daniel could only watch as Jara convulsed and spasmed, jerked around as if drawn by someone else. Like a puppet on strings. Jara would try to move one way then get jerked the other. It reminded him of a gruesome dance, and it showed him perfectly what it was to be to be taken, as if from personal experience. He could see Sha're's deadened eyes looking back at him and that thing laughing behind them.
Daniel didn't realize he was breathing raggedly, on the verge of hyper ventilating, until the Hork Bajir finally slowed. Jara then squatted back down. He showed his head to Daniel. Even with his nearsightedness, he could see it clearly enough at this distance. There was a nasty scar marring the Hork Bajir's head. Daniel couldn't tell if it was from a blow or if someone had tried to perform a brutal idea of brain surgery on him.
"Goa'uld. You were a host," he whispered. His voice was hoarse. Out here? Wherever 'here' was, but he didn't know of any other species that took people over like that. The same thing, just different words for them? 'Visser' must be their word for 'System Lord'.
The question was burning in his mind. How had Jara survived the removal? They hadn't been able to safely remove it from Kawalsky and they had better equipment and science back home, at least, better than what Jara's species appeared to have. There couldn't be Thor's Hammers lying around all around the galaxy. And yet, Jara had survived it somehow.
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"When Arn come to valley, ask for 'DNA' for make new Hork Bajir. Want make Hork Bajir on Hork Bajir home again, for fight Yeerks there. Toby say, is small gift for ask. We all give for harvest. Toby go in ship with Arn, for helping to find weapons hidden, so new Hork Bajir can fight. Not come home yet, before." The explanation about Yeerks--Goa'uld?--was considerably more than Jara was used to talking at a stretch; it was exhausting, trying to figure out ways to put such things into words when everyone around him already knew so personally and intuitively what he was talking about.
Only once he stopped to catch his breath did Jara realize how upset Daniel looked; he immediately felt bad. It was important, frightening information that Daniel needed to know for his own safety, but he didn't want to hurt his new friend! Had he already known about the Yeerks, if he had a different word for them? Had he been a host too, or someone he knew? Maybe someone was still infested. Dealing with Controllers you knew was the hardest.... Jara reached out to settle a gentle, apologetic hand onto Daniel's shoulder.
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He buried his head in his hands and just listened to Jara talk. He tried to get the scene he'd just witnessed out of his head. It didn't work at all. That image of Jara as a host, every host, Sha're and Skaara was playing over and over across his eyelids, and he just knew that he was going to be seeing this every time he lay down to sleep. The Hork Bajir was a master of non verbal communication in ways the Tau'ri couldn't even begin to approach.
Eyes closed, Daniel tried to concentrate and get his breathing back in order. Jara's words flit in and out, ungainly and rough after that dance, and he had to focus to make out just what he was talking about. Something about the 'Arn', but he was too distressed to wonder what it was. It slid over him like a wave passing. Both he and his wife had been hosts, they'd made a break for it, had a child, maybe the first Hork Bajir born free of slavery. Something about DNA and a harvest.. They'd started a rebellion, and like the Jaffa, were trying to free themselves...
Daniel's mind kept going back to that display. All those hosts, Sha're and Kendra. All conscious and aware of every single thing the Goa'uld forced them to do, maybe even every single moment without rest. The enormity of the violation hadn't fully hit him until now.
He was so stupid. Daniel knew what she was going through. Sort of. You could guess, sort it out. Intellectually you could figure it out but to see that representation of it, everything behind it. The only way it could have hit him harder was to become a host himself.
Daniel was coming close to losing it. It wasn't going to do anyone any good if he did, least of all Sha're or SG-1. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and tried to school himself back into somewhere he could be more useful. He felt Jara's hand settle on his shoulder. Daniel kept himself hidden behind his hands for a few seconds longer before finally returning the contact. Reaching up, he gave Jara a pat across the knuckles.
He sat up straighter a moment later, dropping his hands back onto his lap. He needed to get his act together. Try and be useful here, he thought.
Daniel's voice wavered faintly when he did speak. It got stronger as he went on. "So you were able to make that decision to rebel even when you were a host. How did you trick your Goa'uld into it? Did you find one of these?"
He reached out, and on the condensation of the pod surface, drew a simple shape.
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He didn't like this, not at all. The bitter scents of adrenaline and heightened distress stung his nostrils, and he could hear how rough and uneven the human's breathing was, the unnatural quickness with which it came. He could feel Daniel's shoulder shaking under his hand. His tail flexed and swayed slowly behind him, restless with energy that had no direction to flow; such signals of upset made him want to run and leap and climb, to snatch up his comrades and push them into the highest branches and help them all swing away to safety. It made him want to step in front of him and dig in his talons and brace himself to meet whatever the oncoming threat was, bristle and leap and slash until they fell down in a heap and the Taxxons rushed to feast and devoured them all.
But the Yeerks were not here. Nobody was here. Nobody except them, except the Flowers and those shades within them, except Mother Sky and the humans and few not-humans that had bloomed. Nothing to hide from. Nothing to protect from. It was disconcerting.
But Daniel seemed to be recovering, somehow, lowering his hands, sitting up straighter, touching the Flower..... Jara dropped into a loose crouch, head snaking forward to study the shape, before shaking his head; he hadn't seen anything like that before. "Can think, even when host. Can know. Can feel, can see, can hear. Not do." That seemed the simplest matter to clarify--after all, even if he had been a host for a good three-fourths of his own life, he still had that life experience, if.... second-hand, so to speak.
"Not find that. Yeerk come out head, go in Yeerk Pool. Must go in Yeerk Pool, must eat. Must eat before three days." Jara carefully held up a four-fingered hand, folding his thumb down. "If not eat after three days, starve. Yeerk die. Is much painful, other Hork Bajir say. Must tie other Hork Bajir up, watch for three days. Watch always. Must wait for Yeerk die, for other Hork Bajir free. Jara Hamee hear head voice say run, when Jara Hamee Yeerk go into Yeerk Pool. When Ket Halpak Yeerk go into Yeerk Pool. Jara Hamee take Ket Halpak, run away. Run away before Yeerk done with eat, before other hosts lock Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak in cage."
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He listened very carefully at what Jara had to say next. Kendra and now Jara already proved beyond a doubt what the host went through. He knew that. He just couldn't see how they'd taken the Goa'uld out without the Hammer.
Was he hearing this wrong? He didn't think so, but Jara wasn't making any sense. Well he was, but not the way he'd expected. They'd never come across anything like a pool they had to eat from. The symbiotes they'd seen seemed to eat just fine with their host's mouth. He'd never heard of anything quite like what Jara was saying. Where were the Jaffa? He couldn't imagine a Goa'uld, even if they had to eat like that, leaving their host unrestrained while they fed.
Daniel didn't say it but he was quietly impressed by the Hork Bajir. From the sounds of it, he'd waited for an opportune moment and made a break for it. Jara had kept his head after being a host for how long and not only that, had acted quickly and intelligently under pressure, and he'd managed to save his wife.
"That was some quick thinking. You're very lucky to have escaped," Daniel didn't try to hide the admiration in his voice. He was glad something good at come from it. His wife, Toby. Jara's actions sounded like they may have helped pave the way for others of his kind. It was lucky that he hadn't been shot or injured, or worse, re-taken, in the escape. He could think of so much that could go wrong.
Daniel stared down at the pod thoughtfully, considering what he'd heard. He rubbed at his cheek. "See, that's weird. The Goa'uld we've seen don't operate like that. They don't have to leave the body for nutrients every three days."
They didn't ever.
Didn't they? Suddenly Daniel wasn't all that sure. Sure, they all knew more about the Goa'uld than most of their own subjects, but there was a lot they didn't know about their society, their biology and needs.
"I mean, these guys can live up to thousands of years if they have a.... " Daniel sat up straight suddenly. "You didn't happen to see anything like a sarcophagus when you were a host, did you?"
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Quite frankly, he would prefer to be dead by far. After having spent so much of his life as a Controller, and then having had a real taste of freedom, it seemed like the kinder option. Thankfully, Tobias had made that a moot point.
But he gave Daniel a curious look as the man sat up straighter, realizing that he must have thought of or remembered something important. Were they making some sort of progress? Had he figured something out? "What Goa'uld you see do? What meaning, sarcophagus?"
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He knew that look too well, the one that clouded Jara's eyes for a second. Death was better than being a host, but still, if the host could be saved...
Daniel had the impression he was losing something in the translation. A head voice send guide? Telepathy? This sort of thing wasn't a strong point of his, it felt like it was more of Sam's arena, and he didn't think Jara would be up for explaining it more clearly. He wasn't even sure he'd understood him right. He might be talking about something else entirely.
Jara was looking at him curiously. Daniel had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry. A sarcophagus is part of a tomb. A box." he tried to indicate its rough shape and dimensions with his hands. "Ancient Egyptians would put their dead in them and seal it. They did it to to preserve their bodies from decay."
There was more to it, like the threat of grave robbers or the mummification process, as well as the fact that the Egyptians weren't the only ones to make use of sarcophagi, but he was trying not to overwhelm Jara while he was at it.
"The Goa'uld have their own version of them, except theirs is like a machine. Their sarcophagi can heal a person, even bring them back from the dead. A System Lord with a sarcophagus could live for hundreds, even thousands of years."
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"No sarcophagus." Jara concluded, after a period of thought trying to remember all the cargo he had hauled. "No sarcophagus at Yeerk Pool. But Vissers have ship for self. Blade ships for Visser own use. Might have sarcophagus on Blade Ship?" His own Yeerks had never seen fit to explain a great many things to him--or really talk to him almost ever, honestly. Short of being in the chamber himself to see it, or hearing other Controllers talking about it, he would have had no way of knowing it existed or not.
The thought was a little troubling, though; Jara had always thought that when a Yeerk was dead, it was dead. What if they could get brought back to life? What if the others in the Valley were to get captured again? Maybe it didn't matter. After all, if only Vissers had a sarcophagus, then the only one on Earth would belong to Visser Three. Visser Three would never stoop to taking a Hork Bajir host again if he could help it. But if he was able to come back to life....
Well, then they would just have to kill him again, if they could manage the first time. Again and again and again, until he couldn't be gotten back tot he sarcophagus. Until the evil creature stayed dead, where he belonged. That was all there was to it--nothing else would do.
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"Maybe that's why they would need a Pool. The Goa'uld too low-ranking to have a sarcophagus might have to turn to something else to prolong their life," he mused. Daniel sounded doubtful. Was that really the answer here? He wasn't too sure. His gut instinct was telling him there was more to it. He could find plenty of areas in that theory to poke holes through. Having to rely on a Yeerk pool every three days seemed like a huge weakness. Maybe they'd never heard of it because the Goa'uld would go to such great lengths to cover it up. They did masquerade as Gods, after all. But Teal'c, as First Prime to Aphophis, would've been one of the System Lord's most trusted guard. He should've seen something like that and he would've mentioned it if he had.
Jara had gone quiet. Daniel wondered what he was thinking about. The Hork Bajir's face wasn't as mobile as a human's, and he was finding it difficult to guess what was going on behind those eyes.
Daniel pushed himself up off the pod.
"Come on, we should keep looking."
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Jara nodded uncertainly at the theory, but sprang to his feet readily enough once Daniel motioned to move on; even after knowing the man for less than an hour, even with the discrepancies in size and strength and visual sharpness, even in such a strange situation, even after finding himself lost and alone with strangers.... it was obvious that he was already willing to follow him. Ready to trust him and his judgment as a leader. Perhaps it had been ingrained into his personality and habits from the many years spent as a Controller, perhaps it was some vestige of dominance instincts recognizing a superior set of skills that was more useful in this situation, but he would follow orders if they were given.
Even so, it didn't keep him from offering a suggestion, based on his own observations; Jara glanced at the pods again, at the still and silent shadows within, before letting his eyes skim over the empty pod and back to Daniel. After all, they had come from ones that had already started to open, right? So it must make some sort of sense.... "Daniel friend, Jara Hamee think maybe better look for friends not in Flowers. Other Flowers not open yet, maybe not ready, not here yet. Mother Sky only have people for come to be with her."
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