The Stargate's event horizon shimmered and vanished behind Marty with a soft whoosh, leaving him standing on a gentle, grassy slope. Sunlight poured across an emerald valley, its edges melting into dense forest and sparkling lakes. The air felt crisp against his cheeks, carrying hints of pine and wildflowers—nothing like the stale, concrete-tainted atmosphere of Earth's SGC.
He dropped to one knee and began unpacking. Swapping his Earth clothes for forest-green attire, Marty carefully stashed his gear—bags stuffed with Goa'uld tech, including two Kara Kesh devices—beneath a thick bush. The Nox were famously nonviolent; no need to alarm them with instruments of war. Humming, he slipped on his Walkman, turned the volume up, and set off. AC/DC's "Back in Black" blasted across the clearing, his off-key singing loud enough to echo through the trees. Stealth wasn't part of his plan today.
Hours of hiking brought a tingling sensation at the back of his neck: he was being followed. He continued as though unaware, giving his mysterious observers every chance to show themselves. Soon, a figure rippled into view as if stepping from the air itself. Tall and graceful, she had golden hair cascading down her back, eyes of serene blue, and an otherworldly glow to her skin. Her tunic bore soft, shifting organic patterns, leaving no doubt she was Nox.
"Hello," she said gently. "Don't be frightened, child. My name is Lya. You look like you might be far from home."
Marty forced a nervous tremor into his voice, letting his gaze drift downward. "I'm Marty Ellis. I… didn't realize this land belonged to anyone. Sorry if I trespassed. I'm trying to find my mom's friend."
Concern flickered in Lya's eyes. She lowered herself onto a fallen log and patted the spot beside her. "We welcome you. But if you're in trouble, can you tell me more? Where are your parents?"
It started with a single, heart-wrenching moment: Marty, mustering every ounce of fake grief, recounted his fabricated tragedy.
"My parents were… eaten by a Wraith," he said, letting his voice tremble convincingly. "They told me the Nox might help me."
Lya's nurturing spirit sprang to the fore. From that moment, she treated him like a surrogate child. Nafrayu, her silver-haired son, shyly accepted Marty, curious about this "Ancient boy" who supposedly arrived from Pegasus. The Nox, gentle as they were, never pressed beyond his story. If he seemed pained or evasive, they simply offered soft smiles and changed the subject.
Discovering a New Routine
For a while, Marty's days revolved around simple tasks the Nox took great pride in:
Foraging: Each morning, Lya or another elder led small groups into the forest to gather berries, nuts, and exotic plants. Marty, used to Earth's convenience foods, found the repeated diet of greens and fruit borderline tragic.
Vegetarian Feasts: Dinner among the Nox was communal, held atop platforms woven from living branches high in the trees. Marty would droop with longing each time he remembered pizza, burgers, or fries. Once, Nafrayu caught him chewing a handful of leaves extra bitterly, and asked if humans always looked so mournful during meals.
"Nah," Marty sighed. "I just… miss pepperoni."Nafrayu blinked. "Pep...eroni? Is that another vegetable?"Healing Tutorials: Intrigued by Marty's telekinetic gift, the Nox tried to teach him the gentler aspects of nature manipulation. Lya would place a wilted flower in his palm and encourage him to sense its rhythms. Marty mostly ended up sneezing from pollen, but he learned a profound respect for the synergy between living things.
Floating City Wonders
After a few months, Lya deemed Marty ready to see the famed Nox floating city—a cluster of organic platforms suspended amid the highest treetops. There, glowing seeds replaced typical lights, and one could stroll across leaf-woven walkways that seemed to sway like spider silk in the wind.
Marty's first comedic blunder came when he tried to stand on a rope-like path too quickly. He pitched forward, arms flailing, nearly toppling off the platform. A cluster of alarmed Nox watched, wide-eyed, as he flailed about.
"I'm good, all good!" he insisted, cheeks burning. "Just… testing the structural integrity."Inside a grand hall shaped from living bark, Lya presented Marty with an Ancient tablet. He felt his heart jolt at the swirling scripts. It was only after hours of poring over it that he realized one glyph indicated it was a "calibration guide" for certain hyperdrive systems—systems he nearly misused on Osiris's ship. A single slip could've sent him into a star. He swallowed hard at the near-miss.
Quiet Growth
Weeks turned to months. Each day, Marty balanced the act of keeping up his "orphaned Ancient" ruse with genuinely learning about the Nox. He found them a contradiction: playful yet wise, gentle yet more powerful than they let on.
Case in point: One afternoon, Nafrayu insisted Marty try a typical Nox children's game, "Featherchase." It involved conjuring miniature illusions of birds and racing them among the tree branches. Marty's illusions sputtered, morphing awkwardly into giant, blinking owls. He scrambled to correct them, but tripped over a root, plummeting into a net of vines with a decidedly undignified yelp. Laughter echoed among the Nox. Marty, for once, laughed too, happy to be teased for something innocent.
The Pizza Mission… Almost
Desperate for variety, Marty tried to show Lya how to make pizza using only local ingredients. The attempt was comedic:
He rigged a makeshift oven from a hollowed log and smoldering coals.He mashed up random seeds into a goopy paste for "sauce," wrinkling his nose at the bright purple color and pungent odor.For cheese, he begged the Nox for any kind of dairy or plant-based substitute. Instead, they provided a sticky moss that glowed faintly and "sort of tastes salty."
The final "pizza" looked like a neon swamp on flatbread. Marty tasted it, coughed, and declared it "edible… maybe." The Nox, politely, took a nibble and congratulated him on his creativity. Nafrayu, always curious, tried a large bite—then spent the next hour politely spitting into a napkin when Marty wasn't looking.
Earned Trust
Over two years, Marty's connections deepened. The Nox seldom withheld knowledge from him, especially once he proved helpful—using gentle telekinesis to guide fallen branches, healing small wounds, or reinforcing tree homes. They showed him how to shift illusions around himself like a cloak, though he couldn't replicate the effect as seamlessly as they did.
During a woodland stroll, Lya admitted, "We rarely open ourselves so fully. But your kindness and potential… it reminds us of the Ancients we once knew."
Marty fought an internal pang of guilt. He wasn't lying about being an Ancient—just about the Wraith-eaten parents and time-lost background. But he did care for the Nox in his own way, grateful for their unwavering acceptance.
That day came when Lya sought him out, looking unusually grave. "Marty, a Goa'uld scouting party is in the forest. Please stay away; they're dangerous."
Marty nodded, feigning concern. "Thanks for letting me know." Of course, Lya had to realize his curiosity would override any warning. She looked as if she wanted to say more but ultimately let him be.
Sure enough, during a walk with Nafrayu, Marty spotted SG-1 picking their way through dense undergrowth—O'Neill's purposeful stride, Carter's keen eyes, Daniel's thoughtful expression, and Teal'c's formidable presence. Apophis was out there too, his Jaffa fanning through the forest like hunters on the prowl.
When the inevitable skirmish broke out, it was loud and brutal: staff blasts scorching tree trunks, bullets whining past vines. O'Neill took a direct blast to the spine and collapsed. Marty acted quickly, whispering to Nafrayu, "Cloak them. I'll heal them." While Nafrayu spread the Nox's invisibility field, Marty sprinted in.
Kneeling by O'Neill's unconscious form, he channeled his healing power into the wounds—flesh knitted itself in seconds. Carter's injuries were milder and just as easy to mend. Then Lya and Anteaus, having sensed trouble, appeared, boosting the healing further. Confused by the vanishing humans, Apophis retreated. Teal'c, likewise cloaked but knocked cold, needed only a gentle telekinetic lift to move him safely away.
They gathered SG-1 and a stray Jaffa at Lya's treetop home, laying them on woven mats. Afterward, Lya thanked Marty with a proud smile. "You healed them without hesitation. I'm glad your instincts are kind."
Marty let the praise wash over him, giving no hint that his real motive was strategic. He volunteered to be there when SG-1 woke, arguing that seeing a human face first would calm them. Lya agreed but reminded him they were not to be harmed.
A few hours later, Carter stirred, prodding the others awake. They blinked in confusion at Marty's T-shirt and jeans, so different from Nox fashion. O'Neill finally asked, "Uh… where's our gear?"
Marty set down his Ancient tablet. "Safe with the Nox. You'll get everything back when you leave. Now that you're all upright, Lya wants to explain your rescue."
He stepped outside, leaving the debrief to Lya. Not long after, Carter found him. She settled across from him, eyebrows knit with curiosity.
"Who are you, really?" she asked. "You look human, but the tablet you're using clearly isn't Nox."
Marty shrugged lightly. "I'm Marty. My people were friends of the Nox once. This tablet was a gift."
"And your people are…?"
"Gone. Wraith wiped them out. I'm an Ancient, more or less." He smirked. "I'm twelve if we're keeping track in Earth years."
Carter's eyes flickered at the mention of Earth. "How do you know we call it that?"
Marty inwardly cursed his slip but pulled out his Walkman and an AC/DC album. "Picked this up in a New York record store. Miss pizza way more than you can imagine."
By then, the rest of SG-1 had gathered. Daniel studied the Walkman in astonishment. "But the only way we reached Earth was… the Stargate. Are you saying you got there another way?"
Marty gave a nonchalant shrug. "Earth's got a backup gate. In Antarctica."
Carter and O'Neill's jaws dropped. "There's a second Stargate on Earth?"
"Uh-huh. You'll find out eventually. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got reading to do." He sauntered off, leaving them reeling.
Later that day, while Marty and Nafrayu wandered the forest, Nafrayu nearly walked straight into Apophis, who readied his Kara Kesh. Furious, Marty telekinetically flung Apophis and his Jaffa into a nearby tree. Nafrayu dashed away, leaving Marty to deal with the groaning Goa'uld.
He pinned them in place, snapping their staff weapons like twigs with a thought. "I can hand you over to the humans," he said coldly, "or you can go—now."
Enraged, Apophis fired up his personal shield, so Marty ripped the Kara Kesh right off his arm, ignoring the Goa'uld's howl of pain. "Last chance: crawl back to your gate or die here."
Apophis cursed but finally relented, clutching his wounded hand. Marty let him limp away.
He ran into Lya and Daniel on the way back. Lya's lips thinned as Nafrayu breathlessly described what Marty had done.
"Marty," Lya said sternly, "our way is not violence."
He exhaled, feigning regret. "I'm sorry—I should have let him kill us?"
Daniel just blinked. "You, uh, 'sent' Apophis away?"
Marty's only response was a shrug. "Disarmed him, that's all."
Lya turned away with a sigh. "We may not do harm, but allowing Apophis to leave is almost the same as killing him yourself."
Marty bowed his head, half to avoid her disappointed gaze, half to hide a smirk.
As the days passed, he formed a bond with Sam Carter over science and technology. She was fascinated by the Ancient script on his tablet; he enjoyed teasing her with half-answers. Eventually, SG-1 prepared to leave. That was Marty's cue to approach Lya, explaining his wish to travel with the humans. He needed freedom to explore, he said, to find more traces of his people.
Lya hesitated. Her protective nature ran deep. But after enough reassurance—and a promise to keep in contact—she agreed. Marty then cornered Carter and O'Neill. "I have conditions if I'm going to Earth with you," he said bluntly. "I'll provide you with the second gate's location. In return, I want official protection, a place at the SGC, and the ability to come and go as I please. Also, I'll need a legal identity, and some… extras."
O'Neill eyed him warily. "You're a kid. But, sure, let's see what Hammond says."
After a flurry of negotiations (including a few tense communiqués back to Earth), they struck a deal: Marty was to be recognized as a Nox envoy with diplomatic rights. He'd get a living space on base, a company to develop any tech he "invented," and more. In exchange, the SGC got the Antarctic gate coordinates, plus whatever knowledge Marty felt comfortable sharing.
When the time came to leave, Lya personally walked them to the Stargate. She pressed a woven bag into Marty's hands—a mini DHD inside, along with a personal cloaking device. "Be safe," she said quietly. "You may not be Nox, but to me, you are family."
They stepped through the wormhole and arrived in the SGC's familiar gray corridors. General Hammond himself waited at the base of the ramp, giving Marty a measured look. "Welcome to Earth, son." Though Marty enjoyed diplomatic immunity, Hammond insisted on a quick medical check. The exam quickly uncovered the two Kara Kesh stashed in his bags.
He smiled with practiced innocence. "Just collecting them from Goa'uld. They won't miss them—promise."
Hammond, unimpressed, simply shook his head. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Ellis."