Title: Determination
Author: beatrice_otter
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Rating: G
Characters: General Hammond, Sha’re
Word Count: 1,296
Betaed by: redbyrd_sgfic
Written for: sg_fignewton
Summary: A scene from an AU in which Daniel is taken by Apophis and Sha're comes to Earth to fight for her husband and brother.


“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jackson, but that is simply out of the question.” The fat, bald, pale man across from her leaned forward across his desk, hands folded. “As Doctor Jackson’s wife, you are of course entitled to permanent resident status in the US; you can remain here on Earth as long as you like. I’d be happy to hire you on as a civilian consultant here on the base, so that we could have your perspective on any situations that might arise, and have you teach Abydonian and Goa’uld to our people.”

“I went with your people through the Chapa’ai to Chulak to try and rescue my Dan’yel and Skaara,” Sha’re said, long practice dealing with her father and the elders of Abydos giving her poise and confidence she sorely needed in this alien place. She kept her breath even, and slow, and fought the urge to curl her legs up under her as if she were sitting in a cushion in her own home instead of a chair is this gray place. “I was a great help to them. They could not have found where my kin and your soldier were held without my help.”

Sha’re would have spoken longer about her value on the mission, but O’Neill and his men (and one woman!) had praised her in their reports, and she did not like to boast. Besides, after only a year of living with Dan’yel, she did not trust the extent of her English, even with the odd jump in her understanding of that language since going through the Chapa’ai to Chulak and back. “You did not object to my going with them then.” (Much.) “What has changed?” She held herself still, keeping herself from shivering—Abydos got much colder at night, but they had fires for warmth, and it was much hotter by day. Dan’yel would have made sure she had warm enough clothes—well, she would have made Dan’yel find them for her—but Dan’yel was not here, and she did not know whom to ask. She forced her jaw to unclench, laid her palms flat on her thighs to keep them from clenching, kept her expression as neutral as she knew how. She must be confident and reasonable to have any hope of going on missions with them to search for her husband and brother.

General Hammond sighed, and leaned back, and Sha’re marveled at how rich he must be, to be so fat and pale. Skaara would bristle at the sight of him, for no one should be paler than the family of the head man. Sha’re could not afford to. “That was an emergency,” he said. “There was no time to train more experienced personnel if we wanted to have any chance of rescuing our people, including your husband. But we have no immediate leads as to Doctor Jackson’s whereabouts, and so we have a bit of breathing room to get our program up and running and get our people trained while we learn a little bit more about what’s going on in the galaxy.”

“Then there will also be time to train me in fighting,” Sha’re countered, unable to keep her voice even; truly, Skaara was right to mock her temper. He would do so again. He would. And they would rescue him as they would rescue her Dan’yel. “I fought Ra, on Abydos. I would—will—teach my tongue, but surely it would be easier to teach me to fight?”

“Mrs. Jackson,” General Hammond said, and sighed, shaking his head.

Dan’yel had been appalled by the position of women on Abydos, that they were not held as equal to the men; he had been willing to accept the differences on cultural terms for everyone except herself, but he had struggled with it. Sha’re found it ironic that on his home world, she was still defined by her relationship with a man, but she had been Kasuf’s “Little Daughter” all her life and it did not bother her to now be “Mrs. Jackson.” Particularly not since it was the only reason she was allowed on this planet at all, and Abydos had no resources to spare for a great search through the Stargate, not even for the head man’s son and son-in-law. If—when—she and Dan’yel were reunited, they would argue about a woman’s place and a woman’s name again.

“I’m sure we can get you whatever physical training you wish,” General Hammond said. “I’m in favor of women learning to protect themselves, and we may need you to go through the Stargate for some unforeseen reason in the future, or we may be attacked here again. But as to going through the Stargate on a regular basis … I’m sorry, but I want my own people, people I know share the same long-term training and reflexes. When you’re in an unknown situation under fire, that makes a hell of a lot of difference.”

“Teal’c of Chulak does not share that training,” Sha’re pointed out, daring him to say that her sex was the reason for her restriction from travel through the Chapa’ai. Dan’yel had told her his people were sensitive to the appearance of equality between men and women. Perhaps this could be made to work in her favor. “Yet he will be on Colonel O’Neill’s team.” She pronounced his name carefully; she had spent hours upon hours practicing the “l” sound with her husband, and wished to give General Hammond no thing to find fault with. Learning her husband’s language had been her duty as a wife, so that he might hear the words of his homeland whenever he wished; she was glad that in this matter she had been a proper wife, for it allowed her now to work for his rescue. He loved knowledge so; he would be delighted to know she had used well what he taught her.

“Teal’c’s status has yet to be decided,” Hammond said in the same tone of voice her father used whenever Ska’ara tried to convince him to see what other worlds besides Earth could be reached through the Chapa’ai. “I highly doubt Colonel O’Neill will be able to convince Washington to allow it, even if he manages to convince me. Regardless, Teal’c is a warrior with fifty years of experience and a much greater store of knowledge about the state of the galaxy in general than you have; it’s not the same situation at all.” He shook his head. “I don’t doubt your courage or your determination, Mrs. Jackson. And I assure you, we will do everything in your power to rescue your husband and brother. But there’s not much chance you’ll ever be part of a regular team going through the gate. You can, on the other hand, be a great help to us here on Earth, and still contribute to the search in that way.”

He smiled benignly, comfortingly, like a parent at a child, and Sha’re smiled back, and nodded, and forced her frustration and fear down. Dan’yel loved that she could and did challenge the elders when the situation called for it, and on his own did far more than his fair share of it. But unlike her husband, Sha’re understood the art of the possible, and when to bide one’s time. It was a lesson all women learned well on Abydos, even head-man’s daughters with strong wills. “Very well, then. Thank you for your time, General Hammond.” She rose to leave, and he rose as well. “I will teach, and learn.” And when she had learned, and proved her value—and Sha’re intended to be very valuable to Stargate Command—she would approach General Hammond again. And then, he would not refuse her. And she would save her Dan’yel, and her brother.

It did not take Sha’re long to find out who in this Stargate Command were the ones who really ran things. As in any village on Abydos, and especially in the city itself, the head man and his advisors made commands, but those commands were carried out by others, and the ones who carried them out had much influence, as well as handling all the many tasks that a head man need not trouble himself with. A few discreet questions led her to Sergeant Siler, who led her to Sergeant Harriman, who both commanded those who dialed the Chapa’ai—no, she must call it a Stargate now—and also the procurement of materials and supply until a person called a “quartermaster” could be found. She would not discuss all things she needed with a man, but he was helpful in other ways. He gave her a room to sleep in and another room to work in, and books to help her learn to read English (Dan’yel had taught her its alphabet, but little more) and how to better speak it. When they sent her first pupils to her, she would be ready for them.

From Captain Carter she learned how to procure clothing and what the nurses in the Infirmary called “feminine hygiene products,” in the event she needed them. (She did not think she would for some time, but she was not yet sure, and it was bad luck to say anything too early.)

But once she had her room as comfortable as it could be, and clothes that kept her warm even in this cold place (though she still felt exposed in the trousers), and the materials necessary to make herself more useful to her husband’s people, it could no longer be put off.

She stood in the hall outside Teal’c’s new room for a few seconds, gathering her composure, before raising her hand to knock. There was no one to see her hesitation; now that Colonel O’Neill had gotten his way, the guards had been removed. But there was nothing to be gained from further delay, and so her pause was short. Nor did he keep her waiting once she had announced herself.

“Ha’amat Dan’yel,” he said, bowing to her as if she were a head man, or perhaps a god.

“Teal’c,” she said, accepting his bow with a nod as her father would have done. It galled her that he knew one of her great names and she did not even know if Jaffa had great names as well as little ones. “May I come in?” The human greeting was far more blunt and crude than the traditional Abydonian greeting; but the traditional Abydonian greeting called upon Ra to bless the house and the visit, and though her people kept the phrase, now emptied of meeting, Sha’re had decided that she would not use it here, in the home of those who had killed him.

Teal’c stepped back and inclined his head as she passed into his quarters. His silence fit what little she had seen of him; she did not know whether it was a trait of Jaffa or of him in particular, but at least it meant their meeting would likely be short. This time.

His room was even barer than hers, she noted as he closed the door behind her. It was the first time she had been alone in a room with a man she was not related to, except her meeting with General Hammond, in which several of his men had been within sight in the briefing room. There was nothing to give her an indication of how best to appeal to him. Straightforward simplicity it would be, then. “Your language and mine are not the same, though they are similar,” she said, slipping into her native tongue with relief. “Both were used commonly in Apophis’ dungeon.” She could offer him help with his English, and learning to read and write, in exchange for what she wanted, but even in a simple negotiation such as this too much interest would hinder the bargaining.

“My language is that used by the false gods and their closest slaves such as the Jaffa,” Teal’c said. “Yours is a variation of the most common language among the lower slaves and vassals.”

“I would learn your language,” Sha’re said. “And I would learn more about the false gods, the better to advise General Hammond.” It was carefully phrased, not a petition as from an inferior or a demand from a superior, but a statement of fact. Neither too eager nor too disinterested. She could insinuate herself into a position as advisor, she believed (and from there be one step closer to a place on a gate team), but only if she proved herself knowledgeable and wise. She also wished to learn the arts of battle, but did not quite trust Teal’c enough to study under him. Her memories of Apophis’ dungeon—and the battle with Ra’s Jaffa a year before it—were too fresh in her mind.

“I will teach you whatever I can whenever I am not offworld with SG-1,” Teal’c replied. There was something going on behind his eyes, she could tell, but he held himself still and smooth, and she did not know him well enough to guess.

“Then you may come to my room of study tomorrow morning at the ninth hour,” she said, turning to leave. Dan’yel would not object to the impropriety of her presence in another man’s room, and the Tau’ri would not care, but this was a matter she chose to ignore her husband-and-lord’s counsel on.

“Ha’amat Dan’yel,” Teal’c said as her hand reached for the doorknob.

Sha’re turned back silently, tilting her head and studying him. He looked … more intense, than he had when she entered, fiercer, as if he had come to a decision.

Teal’c paced forward two steps, until he towered over her, then knelt gracefully at her feet. “Ha’amat Dan’yel Siarat …”

“Kasuf,” she said, staring down at the back of his neck, curious enough to give him her father’s name.

“Siarat Kasuf, it was I who chose your husband and brother, both on Abydos and in Apophis’s palace.”

Sha’re’s vision went red. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears, but she was the daughter of Kasuf and she had been raised to be a head-man’s daughter and possible gift to a god and she would not allow her rage to overcome her judgment. “And?” she said harshly, drawing on every lesson in composure and self-control that had been drilled into her as a child.

“Vengeance is rightfully yours, Ha’amat Dan’yel Siarat Kasuf.” Teal’c bowed his head further, not quite the obeisance due to a god but not much less than it. “I have no weapon here, but can retrieve one from the weapons-store if you wish it.”

Sha’re spun around, fists clenching and unclenching, to face the door. She could not stand to look at him now, not without trying to kill him with her bare hands. It took her some few minutes to control her breathing sufficient to reply. “You think me as foolish and hot blooded as a man,” she said at last.

“I do not understand,” Teal’c said. She heard cloth rustling; he must be standing.

“A man can afford to throw away a tool because it angers him,” Sha’re replied without turning around. “A woman must be more practical. We cannot afford grand, foolish gestures.” She pivoted until she was at right angles to both her enemy and the door. “I will see my husband and brother free,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “And then I will see the false gods destroyed. But I will need your knowledge of their habits and their tongue and their weaknesses. And I will need your courage and skill in battle. You will not die for me, Teal’c,” she said, lifting her chin high. “You will live. And you will teach, and you will fight. And when the last Goa’uld is dead, then you may ask again. But you will not offer this again, to myself or anyone else you have wronged, until that day has come. Do you understand me?”

Teal’c bowed low again, with more true respect in his face than before. “I will do as you say.”

“Good,” Sha’re said. “Then I will see you in the ninth hour tomorrow morning. For my lesson.”