The Tau’ri are depending on me.

O’Neill, Major Carter, DanielJackson, they are all helpless now, and all are depending on me.

I must persevere, for their sake. There is no other they can rely upon.

However, gods be damned, it hurts. Each wave of sound hurts more than the one before, hurts to such a degree that I fear for my comrades, my friends I have left behind.

I have done all I can to deafen them, by means of mud and water from my canteen, but I fear that my efforts have been in vain.

If I suffer so, when my Gou’ald larvae is able to partially heal me between waves, then their suffering will be much worse, despite the morphine ampoules I have injected them with.

Gods above, another wave, rattling my very bones, a wave of sound, of screech if you wish, that travels on many different wavelengths.

It is sub sonic, ultra sonic, and everything else I have learned from the Tau’ri’s. It is also piercingly audible, so much so that I cry aloud, screaming my pain across the barren wasteland that this planet consists of.

The agony is to such a degree that I feel myself weave, feet stumbling as the blood leaves my ears, washing away the same mud protection in my ear canals as I used on the rest of SG1.

Gritting my teeth, I try not to think of them, to rather keep my attention on nearing the Chappa’i, but it is difficult.

My body fluid stains my shoulders, making the straps of my backpack chafe.

I grimace as my…Junior stirs in agitation, unused to healing so much bodily abuse in such a short amount of time.

Nevertheless, he perseveres, unknowingly doing some good, because if the rest of SG1 are to survive, they need my symbiote to heal me, as he is doing so, although at a much slower rate than before.

Gods, the sound once more batters against me, a scream of unimaginable intensity, vibrating the very ground I walk on, sweeping me to my knees, where I pause, gasping for oxygen for one luxurious moment before pushing myself to my feet yet again.

I am dying. Moreover, if I am dying, then so are my friends.

SG1 are dying.

That is a fact beyond dispute, and if I cannot reach the SGC in an extremely short amount of time, they will soon be gone from this plane of existence altogether.

This I will not tolerate.

Truth be told, they are the only true friends I have.

Besides, it is my turn to order the toppings on the pizzas this week, a task I always greatly enjoy.

I have discovered the magnificent taste of something called anchovy, a taste that compliments the sweetness of banana quite well, I believe.

…

Get up Sholva, you are not fit to clean a system lords shoes if you remain lying in the dirt.

You are a Jaffa, a proud race, one that above all knows the meaning of the word duty, and today your duty is to help your friends.

You can bemoan however, the lack of warning given to the Tau’ri scientists.

They had been so full of enthusiasm, as was the usual with the excitable race to which I have allied myself.

And, much to my surprise, so had I been, once the picture from the planet had returned, one that clearly showed an ancient temple, one very similar to those found on Chulac.

DanielJackson had almost fallen from his chair at the sight. Only a fast hand, yanking him back had saved him from what would have been yet another embarrassing spectacle.

He had smiled at me gratefully and then launched into an exquisitely detailed lecture on the similarities between the temples on Chulac and the one seen on the new planet, a lecture cut short by an impatient O’Neill.

Major Carter and her scientists had deemed the planet safe to visit, which was sufficient news for him, and I. DanielJackson’s lecture could wait for another more appropriate time, like when O’Neill and I have both passed on to the land of the dead.

If not longer.

Rising quickly, we went to prepare ourselves for the mission, unaware of the pain that awaited our eager egress onto this accursed planet.

…

Crawling now, my bloodied hands finally find what I have so desperately sought, the plinth of the dialer, and my means of exiting this deadly place.

This time, when the noise assaults me, it does not seem so bad, or maybe it is my perforated eardrums protecting me. My symbiote no longer works to heal me, leaving me to my own devices, which actually seems to be to my advantage.

Truly, I had never thought that I would appreciate damaged aural cavities before now.

Finally, the codes for Earth are in, and I stagger through into pain free nothingness.

…

People.

I look up to see people staring down at me, making me aware that I have fallen.

Suddenly Doctor Fraiser is crouched next to me, her face looking concerned, General Hammond behind her, alternately watching the horizon, and me, waiting vainly for the rest of SG1.

When the Chappa’i closes, his face sags and he snaps a question at me, one I cannot comprehend.

It is now time to seek help, an extremely difficult thing to do when one cannot hear. Nevertheless, I persevere, and by the expressions on their faces, they understand.

Then I am gently lifted to my feet, and with the help of two concerned medics, escorted to the infirmary.

…

This Tau’ri area of healing I always found a strange place.

On Chulac, or any other planet where Jaffa are predominant, there is no such thing as an infirmary, but here, on the Tau’ri planet, it is commonplace.

That such delicate creatures that hurt so easily were able to take on the system lords and win was found to be ludicrous at first, people believing that Ra had been tricked into making a fatal error that led to his death.

And then I had met them and seen for myself, and realized that the fear of bodily pain featured at the bottom of a long list of things to fear, the fear of not being able to protect their planet written firmly at the top.

They were firm, and they were righteous, and one look into their leader’s eyes all those years ago, had convinced me that they were also honorable.

I had followed him then, this O’Neill, and follow him still.

…

I lie where the medics have put me, and endure their ministrations stoically, although in reality I have no need of such treatment.

Yes, my symbiote is still in an exhausted state, but would stir eventually, healing my ears and returning me to peak health.

All I really wish to do is be in the gateroom, standing vigil alongside GeneralHammond for the safe return of my friends, but I know that that will not be wise.

Not until I can hear.

Instead, I settle back and allow the pain to wash over me, something I rarely do, allowing the human I used to be to take comfort in other human healing hands.

Soon the medical apparatus is set up, and sleep is introduced into my veins.

…

I awake several hours later feeling refreshed.

Although I would never admit it to my Tau’ri friends, their artificial sleep is similar to kel’nor’eem, the total absence of movement, unlike normal sleep, allowing my symbiote time to recover and heal me.

O’Neill always insists that he is not into meditation, but is often taken there by DoctorFraiser when he is injured, as I know he is at present - assuming that the rescuers had been successful in their retrieval of SG1.

I cannot bear the thought that they may not have been.

The room is quiet, the dim lights informing me of the lateness of the hour, but I can see three figures on three beds, making me release the breath I had been unaware that I had been holding.

Using my Jaffa training, I carefully make my way towards them.

I am correct. They too have sleep being introduced into their veins.

Kel’nor’eem.

In their case, it is necessary. They will take longer to heal, if at all.

All three are lying still, bodies relaxed, the fire in their eyes hidden behind masks of pain that are still etched on their faces, even in their oblivious sleep.

I wish them deep kel’nor’eem. Blue kel’nor’eem. Unfortunately, I believe that DoctorFraisers medicine cannot achieve that.

Once I have satisfied myself that they are indeed safe, I silently leave the room, my quest to find GeneralHammond. It is not arrogance to say that the Tau’ri’s need SG1 fit and well, not lying damaged and in pain in the infirmary.

If GeneralHammond has not already done so, I will use any favors I have with the Tok’ra to ensure that one of them helps my friends.

Using one of my favors is unnecessary.

…

Kel’nor’eem, when done properly, takes you to the deepest levels within your body, where the waters are the purest blue, hence the term blue kel’nor’eem.

It is rare that I achieve this state, where I am one with myself, and today is one of those times when I fail.

Yes, a type of Kel’nor’eem was accomplished, finishing what the medical people had attempted to do in the infirmary, but my thoughts were clouded with uncertainly.

Although GeneralHammond has assured me that the Tok’ra are indeed on their way with the healing device, I am not reassured.

True kel’nor’eem can only be accomplished once my friends are fit and well again.

Rising to my feet, I carefully blow out the candles and make my way towards the infirmary to start my vigil.

…

It has not even been a day since my friends, SG1, were released from the infirmary, and already they are hard at work, attempting to comprehend why we were greeted by a wall of sound, when the MALP, and their flying device, the UAV, were not.

Even Colonel O’Neill has entered the investigation, his innate sense of curiosity pulling him from his place next to me, leaning against the laboratory wall, and sending him to crouch next to MajorCarter, listening attentively as she attempts to explain something technical to him.

From his expression, he understands what she is saying, making me snort in surprise, the noise making DanielJackson smile before he returns his attention back to his computer screen.

Sighing, I head towards the door; aware that I am so silent none of my friends notice my exit.

I realized my mistake when O’Neill straightens.

His eyes find mine, and the scarred Tau’ri warrior bows.

I bow in return, his thanks received and accepted.

Then I head back towards my room, my feet light.

Blue kel’nor’eem awaits.

EINDE

BetaTested by CiGik - Cape Town, South Africa - 4th October 2003