Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You can be more.”

Utter nonsense!

What does that even mean?  More what?  More than a thief?  Pfft, not likely!

It’s not like there are other options out here.  Well, there are but very few of them are appealing to someone who’s accustomed to the finer things in life.  Not to mention, most of them require staying in one place, which Vala’s never been able to do.  Not since Qetesh.

You have to keep moving when you’ve got a price on your head.  She hasn’t survived this long by being an easy target.  Of course, recently she’d been wondering if the Goa’uld were distracted enough to risk finding a quiet planet to rule.  Now she has bigger problems to worry about.

Vala remembers when Netan was just another mercenary for hire.  Now he has a growing fleet at his disposal and delusions of grandeur.  The petty little tyrant’s always been one to hold a grudge, but now he has the power and the currency to back it up. 

She doesn’t have time to think about being more.  Word of Vala’s failure to hold up her end of the deal with the Lucian Alliance is spreading, and so is news of the bounty they’re offering for her.  She needs to come up with enough currency to pay Netan off herself.  Fast.

So, she does her best to block it out, forget the words, ignore his voice.  She doesn’t want to be more.  She likes her life just the way it is, thank you very much.  Or, at least, she did until one tiny misstep cost her a whole caseload of refined naquada.  Until the Lucien Alliance decided to make an example of her.  Until Daniel Jackson dangled the possibility of more in her face.

“You can be more.”

The problem is that the words keep coming back to her.  His voice constantly whispers in her ear, distracting her: each time she steals something, no matter how small; when she hears how SG1 have defeated Ares; as she cheats at tadek; while haggling for supplies; when her Al’kesh receives a distress call and instead of plotting a course in the opposite direction, she actually goes and helps; every time she has to dodge the Lucien Alliance and their bounty hunters… Every night just as she’s slipping into a fitful sleep, it slithers into her head. 

“You can be more.”

In her line of work, Vala’s used to problems.  Surviving by your wits demands an astonishing amount of creativity, and she’s always considered herself exceptionally talented at both solving and inventing troublesome little difficulties to smooth her path in life.  She prides herself on her ability to adapt to changing circumstances.  After all, it’s impossible to anticipate every eventuality when planning a job.  Setbacks are to be expected; that’s what contingency plans are for.

Stealing the Tau’ri ship was a mistake, she knows that now.  Vala hadn’t meant to – after her Tel’tac was crippled by a passing Al’kesh she’d been hoping for any ship big enough to fulfil her end of the deal with Tenat and Jup.  The strange vessel that had answered her deliberately garbled distress call had seemed like a gift from the Gods.  She should have known better than to trust the Gods.  Their gifts invariably turned out to be curses in disguise.

Just like this one.

“You can be more.”

When she finds herself handing trinkets to a beggar, she knows it’s a serious problem.  She spends the rest of her time on that particular moon fishing thieving hands out of her bags, her pockets and her clothes.  Worse, instead of chastising the culprits appropriately, she gives them lessons! 

Daniel Jackson is ruining her life. 

“You can be more.”

Vala doesn’t like problems she can’t avoid.  In her experience it’s easier to work around them, but she can’t see a way round this one.  Which means she needs to figure out how to solve it, and fast.  Because the Lucian Alliance is breathing down her neck and any minute now word is going to get round that she’s gone wonko.  Once that happens it’s only a matter of time until she’s kek.

So, Step One: Know Your Target.

Just ignore the fact that it was the first lie in a series of lies that led directly to where she is now.  Because of course she’d heard of the Tau’ri.  You’d have to be living on some Gateless rock in the middle of nowhere to not have heard of them!  She just hadn’t known they had ships of their own when she’d stolen one of them.  Or that the hostage she’d taken was a member of the infamous SG1.

“You can be more.”

Really, for a planet so protective of their secrets, they’re remarkably careless with their possessions.  There’s a wealth of merchandise available to buy or otherwise acquire if one only knows where to look, and Vala definitely knows the best places in the galaxy to go shopping.  Even if she does have to go in disguise.

It isn’t long before she’s gathered quite the collection of artifacts, some of which might even come in useful and others that were merely amusing.  Like their portable computing system, which was pitifully easy to break into and laughably simple to operate.  She particularly likes the deemo-like tile game you can play.  When she finds a stash of spare power units for it on another planet, halfway across the galaxy, she overpays for them just so she can keep playing.

“You can be more.”

But it’s not enough.  She needs more information. 

So, she paints a tattoo on her forehead and goes to the Jaffa.  The naquada in her blood means she can pass as one of them when she needs to, and it’s a good way to hide from the Lucien Alliance nipping at her heels.  As long as she can ignore the whispers in her head, she knows she can find a solution to Step Two: Find a Way In.

With really very little encouragement, the Jaffa gossip freely about intricate details of the security systems the Tau’ri have installed in and around their Gate.  She could probably get round them but that would take both time and currency she doesn’t currently have.  Could definitely just fly there, but she doesn’t fancy her little Al’kesh’s odds against one of their ships.

She’ll need a hook, something to talk her way in through the door.  Fortunately, she’s always been good at talking her way into places, and out of them too.  She just needs something a historian can’t resist.  Something the notoriously technology-hungry Tau’ri won’t let him resist.  Something… Ancient maybe?

“You can be more.”

Qetesh rears her ugly head, drowning out the whispered memory of his voice, and suddenly every night is filled with a cacophony of terrors.  Vala knows what this means by now, and knows better than to fight it.  Instead, she embraces it, spending her waking moments perfecting her control over the weapons of the Gods. Every time she closes her eyes, memories of a life that wasn’t her own rise up to stifle her until she wakes gasping for air, covered with sweat and shivering uncontrollably.  

Somehow, in the suffocating darkness, those four cursed words become a mantra – an anchor that’s the only thing tying her to the here and now rather than the then and her.

Vala’s problem is getting worse.

Now she’s telling herself, “You can be more.”

She forgets the sound of Daniel’s voice though.

It’s worth it when she wakes from a peaceful slumber in the gloaming of either dusk or dawn, with the cipher to an Ancient tablet Qetesh once possessed burned into her mind.  A tablet that describes the location of an Ancient treasure cache stored on what Qetesh believed to be the Tau’ri homeworld.  She even knows where Qetesh stashed it.  All she has to do is go get it.

Automatically she tidies her possessions away but mentally, she’s already moved on to Step Three: Insurance and the all-important Step Four: Packing, when she realises that most of her food supplies have spoiled over the last who-knows-how-long.  Time for one last shopping trip before she leaves this world.  She catches herself skipping on the way into town, and has to force herself to walk like a Jaffa instead.

Vala’s problem is almost over. 

She’s going to steal from the Tau’ri, and she’s going to get them to help her do it.  She’ll be a legend, she’ll be able to pay off the Lucian Alliance, and Daniel Jackson will have to admit that Vala Mal Doran was in fact the most that she could possibly be.

Turns out it’s dusk not dawn and all the market sellers have gone home for the night, so she ducks into an inn and orders a hot bowlful of food.  The Jaffa look at her strangely and she realises that she’s forgotten to paint her forehead.  No matter.  Tomorrow she’ll pick up more supplies and then she’ll be on her way to finally ending her problem.

Halfway through her meal an icy shiver runs down her spine and for a heart-stopping moment she swears she can hear Daniel whisper in her right ear…

“You can be more.”

But there’s no one there.

Telling herself her heart leapt in fright, not delight, Vala sits back down and feigns interest in the food congealing in front of her.  The Jaffa are still eyeing her suspiciously when a wave of energy washes through the room and dissipates.

Vala finds herself holding her breath, just like everyone else in the room.  When nothing more happens there’s a collective sigh of relief.  No longer hungry, Vala’s about to pay for her half-eaten meal and leave when the door bangs open and a young Jaffa stumbles into the inn babbling about a Free Jaffa uprising, Dakara and SG1.  In all the fuss, Vala steals out without paying. 

By the time her Al’kesh makes it to Dakara the battle’s long over, as are her food supplies.  Jaffa are flooding to their new homeworld, easer to celebrate their newfound freedom, and so Vala paints her forehead and joins in.  Steals food as she finds it and eats as she slips through the crowds, snatching for snippets of their stories as she pieces events together. 

Apparently, she just missed Apophis, which is good news as far as she is concerned.  She hears a lot about Teal’c and Bra’tac and machines called Replicators.  Jaffa whisper about Carter and some kind of Ancient weapon hidden in the temple.  Some say that the Tok’ra fought with them, others deny it a little too loudly.  All of the Jaffa seem to think that the Ancients were somehow helping them but that’s a rumour so wonko that she discounts it immediately.  News of Ba’al’s treachery fails to surprise her. 

No-one is speaking of her Daniel.

Ancient weapons hidden in temples seem like they would be a passion of his.  So, she asks, where was he?

The answer hits her like a punch to the stomach, stealing her breath and squeezing her chest in a vice.  Vala doesn’t want to believe it at first, but she can still remember the sound of his voice in her ear as she sat alone at a table on another world and it all makes a horrible kind of sense.  Of course, he sacrificed himself to halt the Replicators and buy his team more time. She knew it couldn’t have been the Ancients.

The worst part is, it solves her problem.

There’s no proving anything to a dead man, and it proves she’s right all at the same time.  There’s no way anyone with Daniel’s ideals can survive out here in the galaxy.  Not for long.

It’s time to go.  She needs to see if she can salvage anything from the ruins of her life.  One problem might be gone but she still has others.  The Lucien Alliance has a bounty on her head and the Tau’ri treasure’s too risky now she doesn’t have Daniel as her way in.  She needs to find something truly expensive to steal so she can get Netan off her back.

Vala runs.  All the way back to the Al’kesh she stole back from the Tau’ri, only to discover it’s gone.  Some ha'taaka has stolen it!

The first tear catches her unaware.  She tries telling herself that it’s just a ship, that she’s carrying everything of real importance, that she cached most of the rest of it before she left because only a fool flies into battle with treasure onboard...  For a moment, she’s winning the struggle, containing her emotions.  Then she remembers.  She left the ugly blue outfit Daniel dressed her in onboard the al’kesh.

Vala cries.  Great bawling sobs that rip her to pieces and make her feel like she’s mourning every bad thing that’s happened in her life all at once.  It doesn’t last long.  In the end, nothing ever does really.

She picks herself up, wipes her face, and trudges in the general direction of the Stargate.  Remembers the rumours about an Ancient weapon and wonders if it’s portable.  Decides to stop by the temple and check before she leaves the planet.

It isn’t.  Just her luck.

Turning a corner on her way out of the building, she only hesitates a moment when she sees two Jaffa with the golden serpent upon their brows walking toward her.  Teal’c and Bra’tac.  Trusting in the paint on her forehead, the Jaffa robes she wears, the hood over her distinctive hair, and everyone’s propensity to see only what they expect to, she fixes her gaze in the middle distance and keeps walking. 

She’s met them both before, or more accurately, they’ve both met Qetesh.  But she’s done this kind of thing a thousand times and she knows that if she doesn’t look at them, they’re much less likely to look at her.

What Vala doesn’t know is that earlier, when she wiped the tears from her face, she smudged the Ra emblem on her forehead.  Not much, but it’s enough to catch Bra’tac’s eye. 

The seasoned warrior knows better than to draw attention from a spy, but he grimaces and mutters a complaint to Teal’c.  Teal’c’s eyes follow his mentor’s, and he stiffens almost imperceptibly, smoothly turning to face straight forward.  Her eyes fixed forward, Vala misses the entire exchange.

“Have I told you how Daniel Jackson returned to us, old friend?” Teal’c asks loudly as she draws level with them.

Already past them, Vala freezes.  Turns.  Follows.  Listens.

Daniel’s not dead.  He ascended.  Again. 

He’s died before.  A lot.

Her Daniel’s practically an Ancient.

“You can be more.”

Vala’s problem is so much bigger than she’s ever let herself admit before. 

She’s been on the run so long it’s taken until this moment for her to realise that for the first time in her life she’s been running towards something, not away.  She actually wants to be the more Daniel sees in her.  That’s all she’s wanted ever since he said the words.

Mind reeling, Vala’s still struggling with the revelation when Teal’c begins to worry that Daniel will leave soon.  To go to Atlantis.  City of the Ancients.  In another galaxy.

The unfairness of it all hits Vala like a case-load of naquada, and she has to leave before she does something stupid like begging Teal’c to take her to the Tau’ri.  Because the Tau’ri have no reason to let her through their ‘Gate and every reason not to.  Because there’s nothing in place to prevent them sending her to the prison Daniel spoke of whilst he flies off to Atlantis.  Because Vala refuses to be a supplicant the next time she sees him.

This is why she made the plan.  So she could meet him again as an equal.  She’d told herself it was because she wanted revenge, because a people so unimaginative that they named their planet after dirt must be ripe for the plucking, because at least there she’d be safe from the Lucian Alliance, and even that a world free from the Goa’uld sounded like paradise.  That she only wanted to beat Daniel in a battle of wits.  To prove she had no need to be anything more than she is.  She’d been lying as usual, she just hadn’t known it. 

The truth is, Vala wants a chance at the more Daniel Jackson promised her.  To give herself enough time by his side to learn if she can be more than she is.  To walk under the same sky, preferably alongside him, and explore the planet that has, in just a decade, somehow managed to overturn a system of galactic government that had stood for millennia.  She’d wanted to live on the world that made a man like her Daniel, just for a little bit. 

A world he’s leaving soon.  For an Ancient city in another galaxy.

Not without Vala, he isn’t!

She needs to stop wasting time on this planet and get to work on her plan.  Glancing around to get her bearings, she notices a shadow slip out of sight and the back of her neck prickles a warning of danger.  Someone’s following her.  She’s been recognised.  It’s definitely time to run.  It doesn’t matter who they’re working for, Vala’s not about to be caught now.

She wanders Dakara until she finds the perfect clump of tents, dark and clustered tightly together.  Steps boldly into one, stepping around the sleeping Jaffa, and goes under the back wall of the tent and into its neighbour.  Grabs a pile of clothing as she moves on to the next, which is blessedly empty.  Stops for a moment to change her outfit and scrub the mark from her forehead.  A few flicks of paint, some ash from a dead fire, and she has a new identity. 

Moving from tent to tent until she can go no further, Vala hobbles out of the door as a Jaffa crone.  Circles round to check on her shadow, and is relieved to find him still watching the wrong tent, tottering past him at a safe distance.  He’s dressed as a Jaffa, but she can’t make out his features.  Besides, she knows better than anyone that a Jaffa tattoo can be faked.

As soon as she’s out of his line of sight, she veers back towards the centre of the town and the Stargate.  She’s almost made her way through the tents and reached the first buildings when she spots Teal’c in the distance, moving in the direction of her shadow.  Vala relaxes slightly with the knowledge that the Lucien Alliance hasn’t found her.  Yet.

The number of guards watching the Stargate has doubled since she passed by with her shadow earlier, and Bra’tac is supervising closely as they interrogate those waiting in line to use it.  There’s no way her disguise will pass a close inspection, so Vala shuffles past on the far side of the plaza, just one of the many Jaffa passing through.  It’s clear that Teal’c and Bra’tac are determined to track her down, but Vala has no intention of being taken captive. 

She doesn’t have time, not if she can’t access the Stargate.  Mind you, if she steps through the ‘Gate on at least one of the worlds she needs to visit, she’ll be imprisoned on sight which will definitely delay her.  Considering that the other Stargate she needs to get through is smack-dab in the middle of a Lucian Alliance stronghold, ‘Gate-travel might not be the quickest way to get what she needs.  Now that she thinks about it, what she really needs is a ship.

Fortunately there are plenty to choose from, parked beyond the sea of tents that have sprung up outside the walls of Dakara.  If Vala wasn’t in such a rush, she could go shopping for something really good.  As it is, she has to settle for the single unguarded ship – an old, beaten up Tel’tac.  It’s times like these she misses her suit of Kull armour.

The Tel’tac’s so old, it doesn’t even have a cloaking device, which makes it much harder to sneak into Nut’s palace and collect the tablet Qetesh stashed back when this palace was hers.  Dodging through Lucien Alliance territory to retrieve the kor’mak bracelets isn’t exactly easy either.  It all takes far too long, and she pushes the hyperdrive engine to its limits to make it to the Jaffa planet where she left her collection of Tau’ri trinkets.

Finally, all the pieces are assembled, and Vala’s ready to execute her plan.

Time to find out if she can be more.

If not…

Well, there’s always Atlantis.

Chapter Text

What Vala doesn’t know is that when she wiped her face, she smudged the Ra emblem on her forehead.  Not much, but it’s enough to catch Bra’tac’s eye. 

The seasoned warrior knows better than to draw attention from a spy, but he grimaces and mutters a complaint to Teal’c.  Teal’c’s eyes follow his mentor’s, and he stiffens almost imperceptibly before smoothly turning to face straight forward. 

“Have I told you how Daniel Jackson returned to us, old friend?” Teal’c asks loudly as she draws level with them.

“You have not,” Bra’tac responds at the same pitch, turning his head to look up at Teal’c, and keep the spy in his peripheral vision at the same time.  Muttering quietly, he adds, “She follows.”

“Truly, it is a miracle he lives,” Teal’c informs him, as though Bra’tac had not also been witness to Daniel Jackson’s descension.

“Tell me, old friend,” encourages Bra’tac.  “How did it happen?”

“At the very moment the Replicators stuck him down, the Ancients helped him to ascend once again.”

The spy freezes, and Bra’tac is certain she’s about to run.  Quickly, he asks Teal’c, “Has he descended once again also?”

“Indeed,” Teal’c inclines his head and the spy settles back in behind them. “I am happy to report that unlike the first time this occurred, he has suffered no loss of memory.”

“That is joyous news indeed!” rejoices Bra’tac.  Seeing the opportunity to ask a question he’s always wanted to know the answer to, he inquires, “Uh, how many times has he died now?”

“Too many,” Teal’c’s tone discourages further enquiries in this vein.  “And yet, as O’Neill says, he always returns.”

“He does indeed,” Bra’tac confirms happily.

“It was through his actions whilst Ascended that Anubis was finally defeated, and our victory here assured,” Teal’c continues to tell Bra’tac what he already knows.

“Then the Jaffa Nation owes him a great debt,” Bra’tac proclaims.

“Anubis planned to use the weapon to destroy all life in this galaxy, more than just we Jaffa owe him our respect and gratitude.”

“Ah, if only they knew,” sorrows Bra’tac, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Indeed,” agrees Teal’c.  “I must also confess that I fear we may lose him again, perhaps permanently.”

Bra’tac protests, “Fate could not be so cruel!”

“I believe that now the Goa’uld reign over this galaxy is broken, his thoughts will inevitably turn once more towards Atlantis, City of the Ancients,” Teal’c is careful to provide their shadow with necessary context.

“That would be a great loss,” Bra’tac mourns.

“It is a pity that Goa’uld ships are incapable of traversing the great distances between galaxies,” mentions Teal’c.

“Indeed, it is my friend.”

“We stand poised to lose a powerful ally.”

“This is true.”

“Yet, as Daniel Jackson’s friend, I also find myself compelled to act only in his best interests.”

“It is a difficult dilemma,” Bra’tac commiserates as his hand shoots out to grab the arm of a passing Jaffa.  “The woman in grey, walking away behind me,” he instructs the Jaffa quietly and urgently.  “Follow her.”

“Discreetly,” Teal’c adds.

“Report back where she goes.”

“Send a messenger,” advises Teal’c.  “Stay with her.  Do not approach her.”

“If she disappears, you will answer to me,” Bra’tac warns the man before letting him go.

The Jaffa nods and goes, following their spy.  Bra’tac and Teal’c resume walking.

“Tell me Teal’c,” Bra’tac asks mildly, “Do my old eyes deceive me, or was that truly Qetesh?”

“Qetesh was vanquished by the Tok’ra many years ago, old friend.”

“Her host then?”

Teal’c inclines his head, “Vala Mal Doran.  Also known as Daniel Jackson’s Space Pirate.”

“That was the woman who attempted to steal the Prometheus?”

“Indeed.”

Bra’tac considers this, troubled.  Before her disappearance, Qetesh had a similar reputation for helping herself to the things she wanted.

“I have a sudden urge to ensure that the Ancient weapon is still there,” he confesses to Teal’c.

“I believe it would be advisable to do so.”