From first impressions, the West Quarter could have come out of any old movie based in medieval Europe, any small, seedy village that had obviously been put together to make the audience understand that not-so-nice people lived here and they should be afraid for the hero that had been forced to come here for whatever godforsaken reason. It was totally at odds with the rest of the city; metal was no part of the buildings’ make-up, trash and refuse were lying in piles along the side of the roads, and the people who passed the trio of newcomers and gave them suspicious leers were dirty and unkempt. These were the dregs of Pendemente, held apart from the rest by choice, circumstance, or design no one could say for certain.

Jack took a quick look at himself and his companions as he led the way to the tavern they’d been told they would be most likely to hear any news about Daniel’s whereabouts. The package that had arrived soon after they had finished their evening meal - during which all of them guiltily wondered if Daniel was getting any sustenance and knew he couldn’t tell them even if they asked - had three of the grungiest outfits any of them had laid eyes on since their little jaunt to Netu, as well as a note that briefly stated it was hoped they’d understand the personas they’d have to wear with the clothing. The slip of paper had been unsigned, but Jack in particular was quite sure of the source. He had suddenly been taken back to his Black Ops days, and shuddered to think of just what kind of man was in charge of the government. Only LaRoux’s insistence that he would help find Daniel kept Jack from keeping his distance.

So far the three of them fit in well. In the few encounters they’d had with the locals in this part of town, Jack’s brash attitude, Sam’s go-ahead-and-bring-it expression, and Teal’c’s dark glowering had prevented any kind of violence, and had even earned the newcomers a bit of grudging respect. They took advantage of that as they strode confidently into The Granite Ridge Tavern, Jack making a brief detour toward the bar while the others found a table to unobtrusively eavesdrop from. Ignoring the stares and whispers, the silver-haired man - dirtied up to match his clothes - got three drinks with the money he’d found in a pouch attached to his thin rope belt and joined his teammates.

“Do you really think they’ll talk freely with us here?” Sam asked in English, keeping Teal’c in the loop and assuring they couldn’t be spied upon in one fell swoop.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Jack retorted. “We may have to answer a few questions - let’s all remember our cover story, kiddies - and stand up to a few braggarts, but in the end they should see us as one of them. And then they’ll talk.”

Before Sam could ask another question, a mug of ale slammed down on the table opposite the whispering trio, splashing liquid onto the wooden surface. “I don’t know ya,” the stranger said, his voice dark and thick. He looked down from his six-foot-four height and not so subtly flexed his impressively-sized muscles. “I’m tryin’ t’ figure out if I should like ya.”

Jack shot the Jaffa on the opposite side of Sam a quick look to keep him in his place - even if Teal’c hadn’t understood the exact words, the meaning was more than clear - then calmly turned his gaze up to meet the new man’s. “What’s not to like?” he replied in the bastardized French these people spoke. He couldn’t help but notice the West Quarter’s dialect was closer to what he knew. What would Daniel have to say about that? “Three good-looking, healthy adults able to kick your ass if you try anything stupid... We’re so loveable it should give you heartburn.” He finished with a smile that was far more predatory than welcoming.

“Why haven’t I seen ya here before?” the man belligerently continued, jutting his square jaw outward. His small, dark brown eyes narrowed even further with suspicion, bringing his wild, black, course eyebrows together like a car crash.

“We just got here from Gales,” Sam threw in, her tone as low as she could naturally and comfortably keep it. “We were hoping to find better company. If you back off, I’d say we might have found it. What do you think, boss?”

Jack shot her a look and was not surprised by the muffled twinkle of amusement he saw in her gaze. He gave her an evil grin, silently promising retribution later for taking advantage of the situation. Boss, indeed. “I’d say you might be right, Carter. Of course, it all depends on our friend here.” He aimed his wicked expression toward the standing man.

“Gales, huh?” The aggressor eyed them up one at a time, taking note of their disheveled appearances. “They do somethin’ t’ your heads?” He gestured almost lewdly at the scruffy bandanas both Sam and Teal’c were wearing.

“Sometimes ya gotta make sacrifices to slip through the fingers of the long hand of the law,” the lone woman at the table shot out quickly before Jack could start to stutter through something awkward. “I’m waitin’ for it all to grow back nice and neat.” Her wicked grin was a notch above O’Neill’s.

The older man was impressed but managed to keep it out of his cold, neutral expression. “And our friend, T, here, just likes the feel of the thing, I guess. He doesn’t really say a whole lot so I can’t be sure.”

“I noticed.” The big man let his eyes wander around one last time before his muscles finally relaxed somewhat with a shrug of his great shoulders that settled some of the tangled black mass that tumbled down from the top of his head out of the way and along his broad back. “The name’s Baldrick Devane. Why don’t ya tell me who ya are and how ya came t’ find yourselves in my fine establishment? Then we’ll see how close o’ friends we can be.” A tiny smile managed to peek out from under the scraggly black facial hair that had been hiding the lower half of his face.

“Bossman Jack at your service,” O’Neill said, relaxing slightly to lean back in his chair and cross his arms over his chest. “You can call me Jack. I’ll leave it to Carter here to call me boss.”

“Carter, huh?” Devane repeated, giving the woman another appreciative, appraising once-over as she shared a look with her superior officer that told him she understood the playful warning. “Odd sort o’ name. But I think I like it.”

Sam gave the large scruffy man a shallow smile. “Carter Rose. Beware the thorns.”

The tavern owner let out a loud guffaw at that. “I like it even better! The spirit on this one!” His laughter trailed off although the grin didn’t fade. “And your silent friend?”

“Just call him ‘T’,” Jack offered, fighting back his own amusement at Carter’s alias. He’d have to ask about it later. “Since he doesn’t speak the language and we only speak a bit of his, it works best that way.”

“Don’t speak the mother tongue, eh? Where’s he from?”

Colonel and major shared a quick look. “I heard some sort of rumor he’s originally from beyond the Circle of Stars, but got left behind by whoever brought him here years ago,” Jack explained dismissively. “Hasn’t ever been able to pick up the local lingo, so we did our best to get what we could of his. He’s pretty handy to have around when the going gets rough, if you know what I mean.”

Baldrick scowled. “I just betcha he is, and I’m also bettin’ he’s needed to use that talent a bit too often in that cesspool called Gales. Betcha he never knew he could go somewhere else, neither. Just one more reason to hate that place.”

Sam and Jack shared another significant look. Apparently they’d been accepted.
Way to go, guys, the physicist heard faintly in the back of her mind. “I got my own reason to do that, but what’s yours?” she asked, leaning forward to take a long drink from her mug. She fought back a shudder at the poor taste.

“Same old, same old,” was the gruff response. “Pendemente folks got more than enough reason to not be likin’ Gales. Just think o’ what ya know from the way Gales thinks and turn it around. I’m thinkin’ ya won’t be far off.”

“Fair enough,” Jack shot back, also leaning forward to rest his weight on the tabletop. “So we gonna be okay here? Or should we take our business elsewhere?”

“No, no need to be doin’ that,” Devane said placatingly. He gazed at the impassive Teal’c for a long moment. “From beyond the Circle of Stars, eh? Popular place to be from lately, so I hear.”

“Oh?” the silver-haired man replied with disinterest while Sam struggled to hold back a smirk of triumph.
All you needed was faith, Sam. I never doubted you for a moment.

A voice from farther back in the oddly-quiet taproom called out a response. “I heard tell that a small group came through there five or six days ago. I also heard tell that the Gales guards were still lookin’ for ‘em.”

Loud laughter erupted throughout the room. “Can’t be all bad, can they?” another voice exclaimed from a far corner.

“Pendemente spirit, they got!”

“Should have Governor LaRoux give ‘em medals!”

When the uproar finally died down and the normal volume of random conversations resumed, Devane leaned in close. “I also been hearin’ that the newcomers went and lost their leader. That’s why they went and got the guards chasin’ ‘em through the streets.”

“We heard about that,” Jack said neutrally. “In fact, we took advantage of the distraction to slip out of the city and head for here.”

Nice one, Jack. Sam couldn’t help but smile slightly at the inner commentary. She’d talk to Daniel later about sneaking back in to eavesdrop. “Did you hear what they looked like?” she asked.

Baldrick shook his head. “Nope. Nothin’ like that. But I did hear that there are people here that aren’t happy ‘bout it. Seems they were thinkin’ the newcomers would go home and get their big guns, take out their anger on Gales. Now they’re wanderin’ around somewhere still lookin’ for this leader guy.”

“So someone from here took him? To start something between Gales and the newcomers?” the blonde clarified.

“So’s the rumors say. Dunno if I totally buy it, but anythin’s possible. Can’t say my heart would break if it worked, though.” The hulk of a man straightened and gave them a grin. “Been nice chattin’ with ya nice folks, but I gotta be gettin’ back t’ work. Welcome t’ Pendemente. I’d say you’ll fit in just fine.” He walked back to the bar and took his place behind it.

Once it looked like they were alone again - or as alone as they could get in a crowded bar - Jack looked at his two teammates. “Well, that was informative. I think,” he said, returning to English.

“It was a start, sir.”

“Boss, Carter?” the older man asked, his eyebrow raised in amusement touched slightly with irritation.

Sam gave him an innocent look. “I couldn’t say ‘sir’. That’s too suggestive of the military, or, in this case, the guards. I couldn’t scare them off, now, could I, sir?”

“I assume from what you are saying that our tactic was successful in obtaining these people’s trust, O’Neill,” Teal’c said finally as the other two shared a look.

Sam gave her commanding officer one last unrepentant smile and proceeded to fill the Jaffa in on what had just taken place. “So, the chances are someone here has some real information we can use to find Daniel,” she concluded. “It was a good first step.”

Jack nodded his agreement. “Now we just wait for the right people to come to us. We just came from Gales, and were admittedly there during the big chase. Whoever’s got Daniel is going to want to know specifics. We might be the best chance they have at getting them.”

Two and a half hours went by relatively uneventfully, apart from the random fist fights that were quickly broken up by Devane or one of his equally large associates. Jack and Sam were drawn into a few anti-Gales conversations that the colonel always agreed with afterward - “to an extent, Carter, to an extent. I’m not saying I want to see the whole valley razed to the ground, but a few well-placed bullets wouldn’t exactly be amiss.” - and the major had to struggle to maintain her front during. The little side remarks from Daniel in the back of her mind didn’t help much either, especially when they were aimed at Jack.

So what happened to keeping the link inactive? Sam thought at Daniel after nearly spraying the table with her swallow from the latest “goodwill offering” the trio had received from their most recent visitor. Jack was currently entertaining him with a description of a “brand new sport he’d though of”, or, in other words, hockey.

I did, for a while. Then I started wondering what you guys were up to and figured, if I don’t try to communicate like I did last time we shouldn’t start overlapping like we did before. She sensed his mental shrug. If it would have started happening again I would have backed off.

The blonde woman buried a smile behind another drink. She and the other two had put on a good show of drinking everything that had been put in front of them. If the tavern patrons had been paying close attention, they would have noticed just how much ale got spilled during their conversations. They were just an excitable bunch...
Oh, admit it, Daniel. You were bored.

That, too.

Just then the man that Jack had been regaling with triumphant past games for his favorite team under the guise of visions of future glories for the new sport looked nervously at an unexpected hand on his shoulder and shakily rose to his feet. “What you say has great potential, Jack,” he said, his voice quivering slightly. “But I’m thinkin’ I should let you three alone for a while. Maybe we’ll talk some more later.” He turned and left without a backward glance.

That left yet another newcomer to their table, this one barely taller than Sam, with long, lanky, dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail and flat hazel eyes with an undefinable glint to them. He smiled, a feral expression that did nothing to allay any trust issues they might have had with him. “I haven’t had a chance to welcome you to our fair city as of yet. I thought I would rectify the situation.”

Jack and Sam narrowed their eyes while Teal’c’s face darkened. The man had been speaking the mother tongue, as it was referred to here, but something in his posture and tone set the Jaffa off.
Be careful, Sam. This one’s different than the rest. Listen to the way he talks - much more sophisticated. Watch what you say. Sam’s eyes narrowed even further.

The man’s smile grew wider with the lack of response. “Of course, how impolite of me. I haven’t introduced myself. Garrett Jade.” He gestured toward one of the open chairs before seating himself. “I couldn’t help but overhear what you said earlier, and I was hoping you might be willing to go into a few more details with me.” He looked around the table expectantly.

“And just why would we want to do that?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

“From where I’m sitting, the three of you have just been driven out of your home by an overzealous government imposing never-ending restrictions on you. Am I correct?”

“And if you are?” Sam chimed in, her initial gruff but complete agreement tempered by an internal warning.

Garrett grinned. “You don’t trust me. That’s good. That’s very good. This might work out better than we hoped.” His look turned serious and his voice dropped to a much more intimate volume. “Your friend there.” He gestured at Teal’c. “You say he’s from beyond the Circle of Stars?”

Jack shrugged. “That’s the rumor. Don’t have any reason not to believe it, with some of the stories he’s managed to get across when he does talk. Why?”

“How would you like to be a part of crushing Gales and their imperial attitudes toward the other Great Cities and their own people?” The hazel eyes suddenly ignited with an inner flame that made SG-1 uneasy.

“Remember that trust thing? Why should we believe that this isn’t just some trick, that you aren’t some sort of agent for the government hoping to catch us getting involved in radical, revolutionary activities?” O’Neill leaned forward to glare at the lean, whipcord of a man. “What can you possibly say to us that would make us believe you?”

His eyes. It’s in his eyes. That’s the flame of fanaticism, Sam. You can’t fake that. My God...

“And what makes you think we aren’t agents ourselves?” Sam offered, thoroughly disturbed by the insight Daniel had just given her.

Jade’s mouth twisted into a wicked smirk. “I had a feeling about you when Baldrick confronted you. And I’ve never met an agent yet that could fit in this well with the locals. You’re one of us, honey. I can
feel it.” He turned his gaze onto Jack. “I know about the group that came through the Circle of Stars earlier this week. And, if you’re willing, I can let you give us the final piece we need to start the ball rolling.”

The silver-haired man looked back with confused suspicion. “Are you saying your people, whoever they are, have the newcomers’ leader? And you want us to confirm it?”

“Confirm it? No,” the native denied with a laugh. “We know who we have. We’re just hoping that your friend might recognize some of the markings on his clothing, maybe let us know how to use the Circle of Stars to contact his people. This is all we ask.”

“And what exactly do we have to do to make this happen?” There was an undertone to SG-1's team leader’s voice that told his friends how much effort it was costing him to keep his temper.

“If you agree, I’ll need to make arrangements with my people. When they’re made, I’ll take you to see him. Your friend will examine him and his clothing and tell us of his people. It’s quite simple really. And when we make arrangements with them, Gales will fall, and Pendemente will gain the standing she’s always deserved!” Because of the low volume, the last exclamation came out strangled, but his audience easily picked up on his obsession with the ideal.

Jack shot a quick, nervous look with Sam before firming up his dispassionate mask. He knew it was absolutely vital to get Daniel away from such fanatics. He also knew it wouldn’t be easy. Even getting the red carpet treatment on the way to his side couldn’t lessen the difficulty of taking him with them when they left. This group had apparently pinned all their hopes of revolution on one Daniel Jackson, and would do anything to make it work. “You’re sure this is going to work? Gales will fall if your people make some sort of alliance with this leader’s people?”

“It
has to work.”

Yep. Confirmation. This guy was
nuts. “I want them to go down. Let’s find out if T has the answers you’re looking for.” The glitter in the ever-darkening brown eyes flared, read by Garrett Jade as a new passion for his quest, but in reality a silent vow that Jack would do everything in his power to get his best friend out of the hands of these obsessive radicals and back home where he belonged.

Jade nodded, his grin as wide as they’d seen it yet. “Meet me here tomorrow night. I’ll get you the contact information so we can get your friend in to where the off-worlder is being kept. Welcome to the revolution.” He stood, nodded sharply, and walked away as if they had just been discussing the weather.

“That man is crazy, Jack. That man is completely crazy. You
have to be careful.”

The blurted English words snapped O’Neill’s attention back to his second in command. Sam’s eyes were wide and both hands covered her mouth. After a second of deliberation, the answer to her odd behavior hit him. “Daniel!” he hissed, leaning forward to keep the conversation as private as possible.

“What?” was the muffled response.

“You’re overlapping with Carter again. What the hell happened to backing off, making the link inactive?”

Sam gasped, her eyes widening even further. “Oh my God, you’re right, Jack. It was so subtle I didn’t even realize it was happening. I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m going to just turn it off altogether and try to rest. Just... let me know when you’re ready to try this again. I’m so sorry...” As the woman’s voice trailed off, her eyes rolled back and her body slumped forward, only Teal’c’s quick reflexes keeping her head from slamming into the table.

Jack sighed. “Nice catch, Teal’c. I suppose we should get going.” He watched as the Jaffa stood and gathered Carter into his arms. “Well, one good thing about this is it gives us a believable excuse for leaving before the party’s over. Lead on, bug guy, and keep your eyes open. I’ve got your six.” The two men and their unconscious companion headed out into the night, barely acknowledging the nods and raised glasses offered up to them as they went.


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