Title: Stepping on Toes
Characters: Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter, various others.
Summary: AU. Hathor picked the wrong planet to build her false-SGC on.
Category: Gen.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe. Adult issues hinted at.
Notes: This story is complete in itself but I do plan to set future fics in this AU. First line is from the start of episode 3.01, "Into The Fire Part 2".
Hathor held up the newly mature goa'uld symbiote with a vicious smile as she watched the reactions of SG-1. "Our friend here is ready for a host. Tell us, which one of you shall it be?" she purred, her rage soothed by the fear she can detect lurking behind their bravado. "We ask you –"
The words are cut off by a thunderous explosion and the false gateroom sways, the walls actually cracking as the ground shudders. Half the jaffa lose their footing; SG-1 all instinctively drop flat. Shrieking in rage, Hathor thrusts the squealing symbiote back to the jaffa and storms out, followed by most of the jaffa. The sound of more explosions continues and the air fills with choking dust.
Hanging onto each other, SG-1 wait until the ground ceases its convulsions. Once it does, Jack flings himself at the nearest jaffa, wresting away the zat'nik'tel and at Sam's warning shout, rolling to avoid a blast from another. Sam is already moving to take down another jaffa and while the room is chaotic for a minute, SG-1 are the only ones left standing.
"Oh yes, Hathor, we like your guards," muttered Jack as he scanned the room warily for any remaining signs of life. "Dregs of the real System Lord's armies I'd say."
"Sir…" Sam held up a hand for silence. The distinctive sound of staff blasts can now be heard, drawing steadily closer to their location.
"That… doesn't sound friendly, Jack."
Jack glared at the door. "Nope, doesn't sound like the cavalry have arrived. Come on!"
They all retreated but less than five minutes later, a goa'uld stun grenade rolled around a corner and flashed faster than their reflexive attempt to shoot it.
General Hammond stood in the gateroom, watching the Stargate spin, thinking about SG-1. He had four teams standing behind him – three, five, six and eleven. All ready to go into the fire and –
"Chevron seven…" The pause was brief and endless. "Will not lock." The technician spoke the last words in haste, fingers already flying as the dialing sequence failed.
"What happened?" snapped Hammond, almost running to the stairs up to the control room, Colonel Makepeace on his heels.
The technician did not answer instantly; he waited the agonising seconds for the diagnostics to finish their analysis and bring up the results. "Nothing on our side," is the first thing to be checked. "Ah… the destination gate refused the connection."
Hammond and Makepeace exchanged a tense glance.
The other two techs on duty were now looking over the shoulder of the first. "It isn't throwing any errors," one said for all of them.
"Most common reason when this happens is that the destination gate is already active," added another.
"Right. Try it again." Hammond ordered sharply.
They tried every fifteen minutes but it was more than three hours later before the gate finally connected to the address given to them by the Tok'ra. A MALP was sent through while the teams reassembled. Everyone was there to watch the screen as the MALP's video showed a peaceful, empty clearing, the ground before the gate and the trees edging the open ground still smoking from dozens of recent staff blasts. They directed the camera to pan over the area but aside from the black marks, there was no evidence. No bodies, nothing littering the ground.
Hammond's heart was sinking. He confirmed with the MALP operators that there was no evidence of active hostility, only recent. Turning to the assembled teams, he struggled to find the words. "I can't order any of you through there. Whatever intel the Tok'ra had is now outdated and we have no idea what we could find."
No one blinked.
Colonel Makepeace looked up at the gate, his expression grim. "It's still the only lead we have, sir."
"Then -" Hammond paused to stop his voice from cracking. "Anyone who wishes to volunteer for recon, please step -" The words were cut off as all sixteen soldiers took a step forward. Hammond took a moment to weigh up the trade-offs of larger numbers before looking squarely at his people. "Very well. SG units three, five, six and eleven… you have a go."
Sam opened her eyes and stared through the bars at a golden hieroglyph-covered wall. For an instant, a dozen memories flashed before her eyes before fading into a whispery sense of déjà vu. Pulling her senses back together, she registered the subtle hum of the floor beneath her and deduced that she was on board a ship. As there was no one in sight, she cautiously tried moving. Her muscles grumbled in protests, her head spun and nausea washed over her. Summoning as much patience as she could, she waited the long seconds until it settled and she was able to slowly sit up.
First of all, she wasn't alone. Sharing the cell were her unconscious teammates; Sam could see their slow breathing. She was also unable to sense the naquadah tell-tale of a symbiote from either of them, something that went a long way towards helping her be patient until she could move without being sick. Watching them breathe, Sam finally noticed a mark on their temple. The memory device was gone. Hesitantly, she touched where her own had been – there was nothing.
It turned out to be a depressingly straightforward recon. They found the remnants of Hathor's pyramid, a few portions of the false SGC intact. Most of had been reduced to rubble; there was bloodstains in a number of places, plenty of evidence of fighting and no bodies. They took samples and, with heavy hearts, returned to earth.
When checked, none of the samples matched their missing people, but a photo of a bloody handprint had enough fingerprint detail to give a probable match with Major Carter. Their people had been there; the Tok'ra's information had been right. The SGC had acted as soon as they could but they'd still been just a little too late. They were back to square one with no idea where SG-1 had been taken this time and the bitter taste of failure hung heavily over everyone.
Somewhat to his surprise, Jack was the last one to wake in the cell, although Daniel was still in the 'I can't move, I'll be sick' phase. Waiting the nausea out, the Colonel watched Sam examine the lock on the cell door. "Carter?"
Sam threw an assessing glance his way. "Sir?"
"Open it?"
"Sorry," Sam replied, pulling a face. "No can do. I was just… umm… looking at… certain memories."
Jack nodded.
Daniel opened his mouth. "Jo-"
"Daniel!" Jack and Sam interrupted simultaneously, Jack annoyed and Sam nervous. If whoever held them captive now didn't know about Jolinar's memories, it should be kept that way.
Daniel blinked and his brain finally decided to start working again. "Ah. Yeah. Sorry."
"So, Carter. Why can't you open the door?"
She shrugged and moved away from it, sitting down next to Daniel. "Nothing to open it with, sir. If I could get into it, I could probably manage, but it's a sheet of solid metal on this side and I can't fit my hand through the bars and get at from the other. Haven't gotten any ideas from those memories either."
It appeared that patience was required. No one came past their cell for hours; although they heard jaffa dragging someone to the cell next door, the layout prevented them from seeing anyone. In some ways, the quiet was appreciated; they were able to recover from the effects of the stun grenade and whatever else had been used to keep them unconscious. However, they were also thirsty, hungry and tired by the time the jaffa finally came to their cell.
There was eight jaffa and the mark on their forehead wasn't familiar to Jack. Assessing their chances, he grimaced at the lowering thought these were not the dregs of the jaffa. They were alert, and wary and the fluid way they moved told Jack they were very unlikely to be easy marks. "Daniel?" he queried as the three of them were gestured out.
"Um… Not sure, Jack. Don't think we've seen this one before."
"It's Ba'al," Sam said softly, as the three of them were each flanked by a pair of watchful jaffa. "He's a minor System Lord."
Jack gave his major a worried glance but let it slide. He'd expected a throne room but they were taken to a room more like a private lounge. Ba'al was reading – and taking notes - at a desk that, while luxurious, was much more practical and less gaudy than the usual goa'uld furniture Jack had seen. And then they waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Eventually, Ba'al looked up and focused on the jaffa standing patiently in front of the desk.
"The Tau'ri, my lord."
A flick of Ba'al's fingers and the jaffa stepped away and SG-1 was brought to stand in front of the desk themselves. "Tau'ri. SG-1. The ones who killed Ra, tempted away Apophis's first prime and thwarted his attempt to reclaim Earth before going on to enrage Sokar to the extent that he very nearly has fits when you're mentioned."
"All in a days work," quipped Jack, shifting slightly so he could keep an eye on his 2IC.
Ba'al smiled slightly. "I would say you're also the ones who reduced Hathor to obsessive theatrics, but I'm afraid she was quite insane long before you even existed."
Sam's expression was wrong. Too blank.
Daniel couldn't quite squash his curiousity; his sense of self-preservation had improved since joining SG-1 but it wasn't yet that well honed. "Before she was imprisoned inside a sarcophagus for thousands of years?"
"Yes." Ba'al answered dryly. "Although I do not imagine the sarcophagus improved her."
"So you know who we are. We're not denying it. What do you want?" Jack's instincts were prickling.
Ba'al leaned back in his chair, steepling his finger together – the golden fingertips of a kara'kesh on his left hand gleaming softly in the light. "An agreement."
"Sir," Sam whispered, darting a quick look at Jack.
He read the fear, the warning in that look but he couldn't aknowledge it. "We can be reasonable." Jack answered Ba'al mildly, a chill settling in his gut.
"Good boy." Ba'al murmured, smirking as he saw how Jack's eyes narrowed and his hand tighten into a fist. "For now, nothing so very onerous. In return for your freedom, I give you a list of worlds and you promise the Tau'ri will not visit them. You will also refrain from knowingly involving yourself in my affairs."
That didn't seem so bad. "Any other options?"
"Sokar and Apophis have both put prices on your heads. I could hold an auction and invite a few other System Lords to bid."
Daniel flinched; Jack and Sam managed not to react.
Jack snuck a look at Sam but she was staring at the floor. "I think I like the first idea better."
"There may be hope for you yet." Ba'al reached down and extracted something from a drawer. "You will want these, I presume?"
Jack stared at the GDO and radio that Ba'al had set in front of him. There had to be a trap but where was it?
"We're on a ship," Sam spoke up abruptly, her tone much colder than usual. "We need-"
"Access to a chaapa'ai," Ba'al cut her off. "If you accept the agreement, I will let you off on a safe – comparatively – planet."
"Only comparatively safe?" Jack didn't want Ba'al's attention to linger on Sam.
Ba'al smirked. "It's uninhabited and unclaimed and the climate is tolerable. Beyond that, I make no promises."
"Okay." Jack wanted out.
Ba'al blinked and raised an eyebrow at the word.
"We'll agree to your agreement, and yes, we need those."
Without comment, Ba'al pushed the items towards Jack, who picked them up cautiously. Ba'al then stood up and stretched. "Jaffa, kree."
Escorted as they had been before, SG-1 followed Ba'al from the room and through a short corridor to the ha'tak's bridge. The view from the massive screens was phenomenal – the endless ripple of the indescribable colours of hyperspace. No one spoke – Ba'al had gone straight to the main control console and after adjusting something, remained there. Minutes ticked past until the soft background hum of the engines changed and the ship flashed out of hyperspace and into a high orbit around a planet.
After adjusting the controls a last time, Ba'al turned to SG-1 and held out a sheet of paper with a list of gate addresses. "The worlds you will not visit. However, if you should ever wish to contact me, dial the first one and attempt to transmit a signal with your little communication device. If I am bored enough, I might even answer."
Daniel took the list and frowned. Several of them he recognised from the Abydos cartouche. "They're your worlds?" he asked without thinking.
Ba'al gave Daniel a very long look and the thoughtful, considering, appraising nature of that look was more than enough to have Jack step between them. When he met the snake's gaze with a glare, the amusement in Ba'al's expression turned Jack's blood to ice. Less than a minute later, they were down on the planet and the rings had flashed away.
The first discovery was that the rings were inside a locked room. The second was a box that had been ringed down with them; opening it was the first puzzle. What they found inside did a lot to improve their mood; it was the majority of what they had had with them when they were first captured by Hathor. Clothing, footwear, water, MREs, first aid kits and a fair number of the other bits and pieces they had had in their pockets. Unsurprisingly, their weapons were still absent but there was a device that looked vaguely like a goa'uld healing device without the handhold on the back.
Sam stared at the device for several minutes while the guys both got changed. Already properly dressed herself, she finally made herself pick it up.
"Any idea what it is?" Daniel asked her, looking over her should cautiously.
"I know what it is," she answered in a troubled tone. "It's a control device… similar functions to a ribbon device in some ways, but much simpler. It's not a weapon. Can't do the glowing force thing… but it should be able to activate the door lock."
Jack finished lacing his boots on and stood up, diverted momentarily by the comfort of being properly dressed again. "Oookay. Feel free to try the open sesame thing, Carter."
"Sir…"
"Major."
"This device needs you to have naquadah in your blood to activate it."
"Standard Goa'uld thing?"
"He knew I had been a host."
"Carter, we can talk about it later. Right now, I want that door open!" Jack understood that Sam was bothered. Heck, he was bothered! Ba'al hadn't done a single offensive thing, if you didn't count the suggestion of auctioning them off, and he'd been remarkably helpful, for a goa'uld. Even the way he'd looked at Daniel had only been a look, nothing more.
Despite Ba'al's word that the planet was uninhabited, they were very cautious when Sam finally managed to activate the device and open the door. But the goa'uld seemed to have been truthful; the temple and the road were covered in jungle and it took them more than eight hours of hacking their way along that road to reach it's stargate, and had there not once been a road along their route that rendered the undergrown just that little bit less dense, Jack wouldn't have been surprised if it had taken them three times that time.
They were exhausted, filthy, their clothes the worse for wear, suffering from itchy rashes and bites from the local plants and insects. It was all worth it – they'd reached the gate. Dialing up earth, they punched in their iris code on the GDO and turned on the radio.
It was just after three-thirty in the morning when the base was disturbed by an unscheduled off world activation. Technician Davis was on duty and she followed procedure meticulously right up until the moment when SG-1 popped up on the screen. Without taking her eyes off it, she reached over and grabbed the wrist of her colleague, who was still looking at his own diagnostics. "Get the colonel," she told him coolly through her shock.
"Colonel O'Neill of SG-1 calling the SGC."
Davis knew she had one of the silliest grins on her face when she heard Jack O'Neill's voice. "Colonel O'Neill, this is the SGC. Do not come through the gate, your iris code is suspended, sir." Despite the formality of the words, her emotions – shock, relief, joy – spilled through.
"Understood, Davis. We're secure, we can wait." There was a pause. "But once we get back, Carter's demanding first dibs on the showers so make sure there's a girls sign on the door."
Lt. Col Feretti was making his way down the stairs to the control room and heard the last few words. The grin on his face as he stumped heavily from stairs to the seat by Davis was easily as wide as hers. "Son. Of. A . Gun. Jack, what's your status?"
"Feretti!? We're on a planet, no idea which one, and we're all stinky and scratched up from a day's trek through a jungle, but aside from the local mosquito efforts, no injuries."
"Last we knew, you were a goa'uld prisoner, Jack. You know the drill."
"I'm going to review those procedures when we get back."
"Yeah, yeah. See you soon."
As soon at the wormhole closed, the SGC dialed out to the world they'd nicknamed 'quarantine' and as word had already spread that SG-1 had dialed in, a team was ready to go in record time. Feretti left them to it; he had to phone General Hammond. Of all the duties he'd taken on as temporary 2IC of the SGC, this was the one he'd never forget. The memory of the car crash that had taken his ability to walk unaided and consequently terminated his own gate-travelling career months earlier was a little less oppressive now – his friends were finally coming home.
Forty minutes later, and despite it being only a quarter past four in the morning, the gateroom and control room were crammed full with every SGC member who could contrive an excuse to be there. Hammond didn't need an excuse and when he saw SG-1 walk down the ramp – exhausted and scruffy but safe and sound, he couldn't say a word. He just smiled as Jack gave him an exeedingly sloppy salute and nodded, granting their request to go clean up and clear medical.
Once clean and permitted out of Janet's domain, SG-1 handed over a sheet of gate addresses, requesting they be locked out from the dialing computer for the time being. Then they slept for twelve hours straight and reconvened in the briefing room at 1700 hours to report. Teal'c was there – having been contacted as soon as Hammond could manage it - to greet them; his words were few but the look he gave them said more than words ever could.
It was a long story. Hammond related the SGC's side, and they were still left with far more questions than answers.
The list of worlds given to them by Ba'al sat on the table in front of them. There was nineteen in total; fourteen were on the Abydos cartouche, two had been added to their database by Jack and two were entirely new.
"Have we been to any of them already?" Daniel asked.
Hammond pointed to one two third of the way down. "This is the planet Hathor had you on. Other than that one… no."
"I believe the first is Ba'al's primary Jaffa world," contributed Teal'c. "Although I am not completely certain."
Hammond contemplated it. "What do we know about Ba'al aside from SG-1's recent experience?"
Jack glanced at Sam who had gone unusually pale again.
"Well, from a mythological standpoint," Daniel said slowly, "Ba'al was the prime deity of the Canaanites and was added to the Egyptian pantheon by the 18th Dynasty. He's said to be the son of El – which might have been another name for Ra – and allied with Seth."
Teal'c shook his head slightly. "Ba'al was one of Ra's underlings for many centuries; he is now a System Lord in his own right. His strength is in cleverness, not in force. Apophis was… wary of him and I recall being told his gifts had a tendency to explode."
Sam could feel the colonel's gaze and she made herself breathe. She had to speak. "Jolinar… Jolinar knew him."
They were all silent, but Jack shifted his hand so it casually rested against her forearm, and on the other side, Teal touched her shoulder.
"Ba'al scared her. But… differently. I mean, she was scared of the ashrak, and of the other System Lords too, but Ba'al was… different."
A/N: To clarify - the world Hathor was on was one that Ba'al considers his. He happened to be in the area and wasn't about to let Hathor's trespassing slide when he discovered it. I will mention her fate in a future fic, but I promise, she gets what she deserves. ;) Also, Ba'al interrogated Hathor's jaffa and Hathor herself to find out what was happening; he didn't need to ask SG-1 about it.