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In the end, Tomin wasn’t surprised that Vala had chosen to stay on Earth.
He’d had hope that she would return with him to the Ori galaxy, to fight alongside him while he righted all the many wrongs he’d committed in the Ori’s name. Sure, it had been a bigger wish than hope, a dream really, that Tomin had fallen asleep to and awakened from more times than he could count. It was definitely a desire that he had a hard time admitting to himself – confessing it made the want real, made it impossible to push down once it had passed through the surface. But he knew she felt the same guilt he did for the Ori’s rampage across the universe, even though her role was as an unwilling participant.
And so, he’d allowed himself to hope.
At least Vala had deniability in her involvement with the Ori. Tomin had no such excuse - his actions had been borne of fully informed decisions made solely by him, some of which, he remembered, he made early on when Vala had counseled him against fighting in the Ori army.
I cannot imagine you killing anyone, she’d once told him.
At the time, Tomin hadn’t recognized the dejected defeat in her voice, hadn’t seen the sadness in her eyes. He’d been too self-absorbed in his newfound ability to serve the Ori as a soldier, something he’d longed for his entire life. And yet for some reason, even though they’d only known each other a few months, Vala had held such faith in him, exponentially more than she’d ever had in the Ori, certainly more than he’d ever had in himself. Tomin never understood that, never fully grasped why. And even though Vala wouldn’t be going with him when he left Earth, he knew that she still had faith in him, even now after all the murders and atrocities he’d committed.
He turned the matter over in his mind as he waited for an escort to take him to the gate room. From there, he was told the Odyssey would beam him aboard and then transport him to an Ori ship where Tomin had allies waiting. With the priors now freed from the Ori’s control, they had taken it upon themselves to spread the word that Origin as everyone had understood it was over. He supposed that most of the infantry and priesthood had been informed. Now, it was down to ensuring that the people of every world where Origin had been seeded were brought up to speed, too.
It was going to be a massive undertaking, to convince millions of followers that the God they had believed in, prostrated to for hours on end, killed innocent people for (some of whom had been family, friends) had been little more than the remnants of an ancient race addicted to worship and got evermore powerful the more and more people revered them. And even though Tomin knew the truth now, he also knew that there were those who were so deeply entrenched in Origin that they wouldn’t budge in their belief, that they would still hold onto the propaganda that had been drilled into their heads and continue to evangelize and preach the word of Origin to anyone who would listen – and to those who wouldn’t.
Especially to those who wouldn’t.
Thankfully, the Orici was rather distracted at the moment, locked in an eternal battle with the Ascended being Morgan La Fay – or Ganos Lal, as Dr. Jackson had referred to her. So, at least Tomin wouldn’t have to contend with Adria for a while yet, if he ever did, and if that day came, she would be greatly weakened, maybe just enough that she could be defeated once and for all.
But there was a war coming regardless. He knew that. While Tomin was more than happy to live and let live (now), it would be ignorant of him to ignore the fact that there were others who had been enriched by the power and influence the Ori had afforded them, and they would not let go of either quickly or easily. They would fight to keep what had been given to them, what they had taken from others, and there were some, Tomin knew, that would make the heinous crimes he’d committed look like child’s play to secure their position.
A knock rapped against the door, three times in quick succession. Time to go, then. Tomin squared his shoulders.
“Come in.”
To Tomin’s surprise, it wasn’t one of the SGC’s guards, but Daniel Jackson himself who poked his head in the door. “Hey.”
“Dr. Jackson,” Tomin folded his hands in front of him, confused at his presence. “I assumed they would send one of the soldiers to escort me to the gate room.”
“Oh, no, they’re uh, they’re not ready yet. Something about Odyssey running behind on their diagnostic checks,” Daniel entered the room fully and shoved his hands in his pockets. “General Landry asked me to come by and let you know, asked if you wouldn’t mind being our guest for a little longer.”
“I do not, but then again, it doesn’t seem as if I have much of a choice,” Tomin’s hands broke apart, fingers flexing, hands squeezing before he winced an apology his visitor’s way and folded his hands together again. “I suppose I am anxious to return home.”
“I don’t think anyone can blame you for that,” Daniel nudged the door closed with his foot just enough so that it rested against the frame but didn’t latch. “I’d say I can relate, but I uh… I didn’t really have what you would call a ‘home’ growing up. I’d go on a dig for some project trying to prove a theory I had, and I’d spend six months or a year just living among the population wherever my dig was. I didn’t really have a home until uh…, well, uh, I have a home now, here. Have for years,” Daniel finished, awkwardly.
Tomin nodded slowly, choosing not to delve into the clumsily finished statement. There was a story there, but he didn’t get the feeling Dr. Jackson was in the mood to share. “I’d never left Ver Isca before this,” he admitted. “I was born there, raised there. All I wanted to do was leave, to serve the Ori.” Tomin huffed a derisive laugh. “Vala tried to tell me what that meant, tried to warn me away from it. I thought it was only because she was an unbeliever. Now, I think of everything I did in their name, all the lives I took, horrors I visited on people I never met, never even knew existed until the Ori brought me to their doorstep…”
“I won’t tell you that you’re not blameless for what’s happened,” Daniel said after a moment. “You are.”
Tomin frowned. He knew that, but damn; that was… blunt.
“But all you can do now is try to make sure that no one – not the Ori, not those who still believe in them, not anyone – can repeat those crimes.” Daniel continued, his lips twisting a bit.
“I’m guessing that there will be some who will find the fact that Adria was defeated and the idea that Origin was misrepresented to them a little hard to believe, at best,” Daniel bussed his chin with a finger. “We encountered the same thing after we destroyed the Goa’uld System Lords – most of the people who had been enslaved were grateful for freedom, but others were so brainwashed that they tried to fill the power vacuum their destruction had left behind.” He shrugged one shoulder, looking at him with something Tomin recognized as akin to pity. “Just my way of saying I hope you have some ideas about how you’re going to handle that.”
“It’s been difficult to think of anything else since we used the Ark,” Tomin admitted, his voice soft. “Vala offered me some insight as to how I might persuade as many people as possible of the truth of everything that has happened to avoid…” he trailed off, hypocrisy dying on his lips. He cared now, yes, but where had that compassion been when he’d been all too willing to doll out what he now desperately wanted to avert?
“To avoid bloodshed,” Daniel finished for him, simply, non-violently, a tone of understanding in his own voice. It actually killed Tomin a little inside, the consideration Daniel Jackson and the others had shown him when he knew he deserved anything but. Tomin would’ve even gone so far as to say they’d been exceedingly kind to him during his stay. “It’s okay. I don’t think anyone here envies the situation you’re returning to – those who understand it, at least.”
“I’m sure most here will be glad to see me go,” Tomin ventured quietly. “I know there are those of your people who believe I deserve far worse treatment than what you’ve shown me.”
“I’m sure that’s true, and they’re more than welcome to take the matter up with General Landry, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” Daniel wandered forward a little bit. “He gets a little crabby when his decisions are questioned by people who don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“I must admit I’m confused as to why you would let me go,” Tomin peered at Daniel curiously. “Actually, I’ve been confused since I met you.”
“That’s a pretty standard reaction,” Daniel quipped.
“I was sure once I gave you the information you and your comrades wanted that you would execute me,” Tomin continued, “and yet, you have treated me as-“
“-as Salen treated Murdeen when he cast off the shadow of darkness and walked willingly into the loving arms of the Ori,” Daniel smiled a little, watching recognition pass instantly on Tomin’s at the passage from the Book of his faith. “I told you I’d read the Book of Origin. And, you surrendered if I remember correctly; pretty bad manners to kill a guy after he’s surrendered.”
“Others who have surrendered to the Ori were not treated with the same mercy.”
“Well, we’re not the Ori,” Daniel pointed out. “And I don’t think hurting you or killing you would’ve made anything better; besides, Vala would’ve put her space-pirate ways to work and smuggled you out of here before she’d have let that happen.”
“She is a good woman,” Tomin murmured. “Far better than I deserved.”
“You know she tried to warn me off from fighting in the Ori army,” Tomin slid down to sit on the edge of his bed. Daniel took it as an invitation to pull up a chair and got comfortable, leaning forward a little, interested. He’d heard a little about Vala’s time in the Ori galaxy, but not so much about her time with Tomin. She’d been uncharacteristically mum about that, and Daniel couldn’t help his curiosity.
He vehemently refused to study the reason for that.
“I knew early on that she didn’t believe in Origin. I tried to convert her. She played along, tried to humor me. But I knew.” Tomin shook his head, glaring at his glove covered hands.
“Eventually others figured it out, too. They shackled her in the town square for all to see.” He saw recognition in Daniel’s expression. “She told you that?”
Daniel nodded.
“She was pregnant at the time,” Tomin grimaced. “Somehow, she’d come under suspicion, and her soul had to be tested; her condition didn’t matter, not to Seevis. I left her out there for three days until I summoned the courage to release her myself. At the time, I knew it was because Origin commanded us to weed out the wicked among us, but I also knew then that there was no evil in her heart.”
Tomin blinked and shook his head, the memory giving way to the distinct feeling of Dr. Jackson’s eyes on him. Maybe he was imagining the glare, but Tomin couldn’t bring himself to meet the other man’s gaze. Perhaps that made him a coward, but he would carry the shame of his inaction for those days for the rest of his life. Tomin would’ve rather come face to face with every single one of the loved ones of those he’d killed than face what he’d put her through for those three long days and nights. “I don’t understand how she forgave me, how she can still forgive me after all I’ve done, how any of you can do the same.”
Daniel neatly side-stepped that question – he wasn’t in a position to get into a debate about who on SG-1 could forgive him or what they felt, because the truth was, the whole team was all over the place on that subject. But maybe he could give Tomin some insight on Vala. He pursed his lips, not wanting to divulge anything she may not have already shared of her own free will. “How much do you know about her life?"
“Not nearly as much as she knows about mine.” Tomin cleared his throat. “She did share with me that there was a period of time when she was under the control of another.”
“Qetesh,” Daniel nodded. “A Goa’uld, one of the more vicious and violent ones. How much do you know about them?”
Tomin shook his head. He’d never heard of the Goa’uld until he’d met Vala, and the few times that point of conversation had come up, her answers had been clipped and short before she’d changed the subject.
“They’re parasites,” Daniel practically spat the word. “When they take a host, they control everything about him or her – what they say, how they behave, what they do.” He took a breath. This topic inevitably brought back memories of Sha’re and everything she must’ve endured when Amunet had possessed her. Ten years on and it was still painful for Daniel to talk about.
“Vala was forced to witness everything Qetesh did, all the massacres she committed, people she tortured – men, women, children, infants – sometimes for information, sometimes just for fun. She had no autonomy over her own body. Qetesh did whatever she wanted with whomever she wanted and Vala had to endure it. And what’s more, she suffered the consequences for Qetesh’s actions once she was freed from her control. Understandably, she doesn’t like to talk about it much.”
Tomin nodded. Quite understandably.
“There’s no reason in the world why Vala should be as… as good as she is, not after everything that was done to her,” Daniel smiled. “And yes, she’s been a thief. She’s lied as easily as she’s smiled, and she’s run cons on people without a second thought, but most of that was for survival more than anything. She shouldn’t blame herself for anything Qetesh did, but she does, and she tries to make up for it whenever she can.” He pinned Tomin with a look. “So, to answer your question, I think that’s why it’s so easy for her to relate to you, to forgive you even when you can’t forgive yourself.”
Tomin nodded distantly. That seemed a reasonable explanation. “Teal’C told me on the ship that the day would never come when I would forgive myself, that all I could do was right as much wrong as I could before I die.”
“Teal’C speaks from experience,” Daniel smiled sadly at him. “A lot of us do. We’ve all made mistakes that have had disastrous consequences even if we meant well. We’ve all lost people we’ve loved.” Sha’re crossed Daniel’s mind again as she always did when he thought of those he’d buried, hadn’t been able to save. “The question we always have to ask ourselves is, what are we going to do to make life better? Vala answered that question for herself when she chose to stop running from her past. You’re answering it by returning home to help lead your people and try to right the wrongs you’ve done. At the end of the day, it’s all any of us can do.”
Tomin nodded quietly to himself, studying the man in front of him in silence for a few moments.
“Vala has chosen to remain here,” he hedged.
Daniel nodded. “Yes.”
“I know I made many mistakes with her when we were… well, when I believed we were married,” Tomin swallowed, realizing he probably looked as uncomfortable as he felt. “As many during our marriage as after she gave birth to the Orici. Vala was never… she never truly settled in Ver Isca. She did her best to blend in, especially after Seevis chained her to alter, but she always held something back. But… watching her here in this place, with you – all of you,” he amended, not missing the barely there squinting of Daniel’s eyes behind his glasses, “she’s different. She seems… whole, almost, in a way I never knew her.”
“She’s worked hard to build a life here,” Daniel spoke as if he were creeping around a massive bomb in the hopes that it wouldn’t go off. “She hasn’t talked much about her time in Ver Isca, but I know that what you both had was important to her, Tomin.” He paused a moment, then: “It still is.”
“Maybe,” Tomin conceded, “but I think there may be something – someone – here more important to her than I ever could be.”
Tomin tried his best not to look accusingly at Daniel, to not stare him down with all the regrets that a man in his position was feeling, but he’d worn his heart on his sleeve since the day he came into the world, and his face had never been able to conceal his true emotions.
“I don’t… um…” Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose, fidgeted, and for a few seconds looked anywhere around the room other than at Tomin, as if he’d thought twice about denying the charge.
Tomin had intended to ask the question outright, but he realized that the answer didn’t matter, not anymore. Vala had already made her decision and as protective as Daniel believed she was of Tomin, Tomin was equally certain that she was just as protective of Daniel. There was no changing her mind in staying on Earth. There was only one thing that mattered now.
“I know I have no right to ask anyone here for anything, but I am going to ask something of you, specifically.” He waited until Daniel stopped avoiding looking at everything but him and finally met his eyes, the doctor’s expression carefully schooled into one of nonchalant indifference.
“I wanted Vala to return with me. I intended to ask her, but…” Tomin shook his head from that train of thought after a few moments; best not to go down that path. “She deserves someone to protect her, to keep her safe. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Vala, it’s that she will risk everything for those she cares for, including her life, even if they don’t deserve it. And she’ll never ask for the same in return.” He swallowed, his throat tightening. “She deserves for someone to give her the same, to look out for her, defend her. And I don’t think I’m wrong in asking you to be that person. So.”
His request hovered between them, an invisible offer fully loaded with a responsibility that Tomin would’ve willingly taken on himself if the circumstances were different, but since they weren’t, he placed his bet on the one who’d held Vala’s attention in a way Tomin had never been able to.
It had been plain as day after he’d actually spent time with the both of them when he’d come back to the SGC, before they’d all gone looking for the Ark. Vala’s eyes hardly left Daniel. She was always attuned to where he was; she was at ease around him, more herself than she was with anyone else from SG-1. More herself than she ever had been with Tomin.
And while Daniel wasn’t nearly as obvious with his feelings as Vala was with hers, Tomin knew without a doubt that the other man cared deeply for her. Tomin had learned to read people a long time ago. It was a talent that had come in handy to learn others’ intentions towards him after he became crippled; the villagers could be cruel to those who were different. Different meant that the Ori had looked unfavorably upon him, and that meant the people of his village acted on that belief which often meant leaving Tomin worse for wear and in quite a lot of pain.
Certainly, it was an invaluable skill in serving the Ori and rooting out the unbelievers. He’d only fine-tuned that ability in his time as a soldier and now commander. Tomin had become adept at translating hidden meanings and hearing true messages in words unspoken. Someone like Daniel may once have been like Tomin – heart on his sleeve, unafraid to broadcast his feelings – but he wasn’t that way anymore. The man was cautious, untrusting, calculating in a way that led Tomin to think that Daniel Jackson had suffered more loss and cruelty in his life than his kind, scholarly demeanor let on.
“I know she trusts you,” Tomin encouraged when Daniel still hadn’t answered him after a few minutes that seemed like far longer. “And I may be wrong about this, but I believe you care for her.” He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I love her very much, Dr. Jackson. If the woman you loved chose to stay with another an entire galaxy away, what would you want for her?”
Tomin didn’t miss the wince that pulled at Daniel’s mouth or the crinkle of pain in his eyes. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but Tomin was relatively sure that he’d hit uncomfortably close to a painful target for Dr. Jackson Perhaps he’d been in a similar situation in the past that Tomin found himself in now, maybe not, but he’d obviously struck close to home.
He was in the middle of hoping that misstep didn’t cause Daniel to tell Tomin what he could do with his ‘request’, but to his relief, the other man’s face smoothed out after a few moments and he nodded his head.
“I understand,” Daniel murmured softly. “She’ll be safe here with us.”
Tomin nodded. “And with you?”
Daniel hesitated, and Tomin could tell that while he was used to explaining the finer points of history and culture and translations down to the finest detail (happily so, Tomin knew; he’d been on the receiving end of one or two lectures in the short time he’d spent with the scientist), he disliked being put on the spot with this particular subject.
“Yes,” Daniel answered finally, his voice quiet but resolute enough. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Tomin smiled finally. “As much as she’ll allow you to, at least.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Daniel closed his eyes, as if he was envisioning the sheer amount of nonsense he’d just committed himself to on behalf of a man that he’d known for all of a few weeks and who had once been his enemy to boot. What the hell even was his life these days?
“Actually, Dr. Jackson, I believe I may be one of the few who does.” Tomin tilted his head in respect, amusement flickering across his face as three knocks snapped against the door. It crept open and an airman stuck his head inside.
“The Odyssey is ready beam you on board, Commander Tomin. General Landry asks that you meet him in the gate room.”
Tomin stood, grabbed his helm, and took a few steps forward, holding a hand toward Daniel. The latter shook his head and looked at the airman.
“I’ll take him.”
It was silent most of the way from Tomin’s guest quarters to the gate room, the scuffing of Tomin’s boots coinciding with Daniel’s leather ones. Occasionally, the greaves protecting Tomin’s calves brushed against the poleyn armor protecting his knees. It would’ve appeared to anyone who didn’t work at the SGC that half the pair was on his way to or from a Medieval Faire, but the good people of Stargate Command had seen stranger things traversing their hallways, and anyone the Tomin and Daniel passed in the corridors barely gave them a second glance, much less a first.
Tomin followed Daniel, rounding the corner into the gate room and was met not only by General Landry, but by Vala as well. He didn’t miss the questioning glance she threw Daniel’s way at watching them both walk in together. “Dr. Jackson was kind enough to visit with me before I left,” Tomin answered her unasked question, “for which I am grateful.” He turned to Daniel, holding his hand out to him. “I will remember your advice.”
“Dunno that I would call it advice, more like… been there, done that, got the t-shirt,” Daniel shrugged, shaking Tomin’s hand. Tomin was thoroughly confused by the reference, and he wasn’t exactly sure what a t-shirt was, but quickly decided that it was neither here nor there and turned his attention to General Landry.
“Commander Tomin, the Odyssey is ready to beam you aboard whenever you give the word,” Landry stepped into the conversation, quirky smile and blue eyes twinkling. Tomin had decided early on that he liked the old general, not only because of his easy-going demeanor (which Tomin knew only came from living through the harsh realities that war and conflict inevitably brought) but because Vala had developed a gentle and abiding affection for him. He’d learned the hard way that Vala was an excellent judge of character, far better than he had ever been.
Speaking of, she was standing there watching him, waiting for her own farewell with a calm acceptance that this may be the last time they saw each other for a long time, if ever. Tomin opened his arms as she stepped forward into them, hugging him tightly.
It was strange. Tomin thought he would’ve had so much more to say to her, but here now, just holding her, he figured everything that needed to be said could be said just like this. Honestly, it was probably better this way. And besides, the most important points between them had been dealt with. He’d apologized; she’d forgiven him. He wanted to atone for his sins, she supported him in that, understood it even. What more could he ask for, really?
He caught Daniel’s eyes over Vala’s shoulder and remembered with regretful clarity exactly what that ‘more’ he asked for was.
“We have something for you,” Vala cleared her throat, pulling Tomin’s attention to her. Between them, she dug into her pocket and pulled out a device. “It’s called an IDC. If you ever come this way again, there’s a code that will let us know it’s you. It will be activated only by your biometric signature – just place your finger here,” she instructed. “And be sure to it before you step into the gate.”
“What happens if I don’t?” Tomin took the little contraption and turned it over in his hands, examining it.
“Well,” Vala pointed behind him, “you see that metal shield over the gate just there?”
Tomin nodded.
“You would splatter rather magnificently on the other side of it if we didn’t open said shield to let you through.” Vala’s cheerful delivery of a rather morbid result made Tomin chuckle quietly. Somewhere behind him, he heard Daniel huff out a laugh.
“I am going to miss you,” he murmured.
“Yes, well,” Vala swallowed. “That’s why you have that. Do come visit sometime, let us know how things are going.”
Tomin was tempted in that moment, so very tempted, to hand the IDC back to her and announce that he was staying. Even if it meant never seeing his home again or fighting the Ori from a different galaxy. Even if it meant eventually having a front row seat to what he knew was blossoming between Vala and Dr. Jackson and having to accept that he wasn’t her chosen suitor. She was going to miss him. He could see it in her expression, hear the sadness in her voice. She may not love him the way he loved her, but there was a kind of love there for him, in spite of everything he’d done in service to the Ori, not just to people he’d never met, but to her.
He had to leave before he picked his stupid heart over his chosen burden.
Tomin gave her a brusque nod and stepped back, squaring his gaze with Daniel’s. The other man nodded – really, it was more of a tilt to his chin, but Tomin knew Daniel understood the silent message. Reminder really.
All it took was a nod to General Landry, and a signal from him to the control room. Tomin embraced the energy that engulfed him, spiriting him onto the Odyssey in the space of a moment and into the safe, familiar arms of mission and duty.