Title: Perception
Summary: When SG-1 is captured and interrogated offworld, things get complicated. Part 2 of the "Crossover Series"
Disclaimer: Don't own them *single tear*
AN: I guess I'll start off by saying I know I've been away for a while. Unfortunately with RL events I have been lacking the vision and energy to write anything. I'm not sure how long it will be between chapters, I have this silly job they want me to go to on a regular basis. As always, thank you for reading and telling me what you think :)
The plot is an idea that I've been tossing around for years, in slightly varying forms, and only recently was able to turn it into something useable. I had done an outline for it months ago, which has been lost, so I had to redo things in my head. There is a lot of planning to be done so that this story unfolds the way I want it to, so I'm only hoping I can execute it well enough to pull things off. And while it is a "crossover" it is pretty much entirely in the Stargate universe, but as a continuation of the series I decided to label it as such. Follows the story "Feint".
Now without further ado...
The Stargate on P36-881 was a fantastic piece of art. The device was the centerpiece of an elaborate stone mosaic. Blue stones of only the most perfect color ringed the gate, cobbled together in a way that suggested intricate planning and haphazardness at the same time. The tops of the stones were rolling and uneven, but when viewed as a whole looked like the rippling waves atop a body of water. A lighter tone crested these waves, mimicking perfectly the foamy caps. These waves went out twenty meters before reaching the sandy desert shore that made up the deserted valley.
Only a walkway of smooth, dark stones - finely polished like the blue stones save for the wear of time - disturbed the artificial oasis. As though carved from those very stones, the DHD rose up through the middle of the pathway about halfway out. The naked stone statues of men and women supplicating around the pool capped off the beautiful monument.
If one were watching, the explosion of the Stargate's event horizon threatened to gush into the pool and further disturb the already choppy surface.
Though they had viewed the images through the MALP, standing upon the monument and viewing it without digital filters made SG-1 take pause. Sam could almost feel the black stones rocking beneath her, as though she was standing upon a floating dock. Through the corner of her eye she swore that Daniel looked slightly pale.
Boots clicking against the stones pulled Sam from her reverie. Jack turned about, holding up one hand as a visor even though he wore his sunglasses. He gave a whistle of appreciation. "Quite the collage they have here."
"The large size and precision of detail are indeed most impressive," Teal'c said.
Returning to silence, they walked to the end of the pathway. A large tablet that was as tall as Teal'c stood at the end. Two of the supplicating statues were behind it, holding the slab upright. Like the rest of the monument, the stone was polished and each symbol intricately carved. It was written in Goa'uld, and though they had already heard the translation, Daniel couldn't help but reading it aloud.
Wayward, we cry out for guidance
Our tears pool in amounts too great for the thirsty earth
Desperation threatens to drown us
Tell us why we have been forsaken
Tell us how we may return to Your favor
Hear our pleas, Balaqua
Let Your children fumble in the dark no longer
The gentle breeze seemed to carry the plaintiff cries of the statues. A lump formed in Sam's chest at the fervent sorrow displayed by the pool of tears. Knowledge that the people were praying for the return of the Goa'uld who subjugated them tempered her emotions. Balaqua was a minor Goa'uld, slain by Apophis over a thousand years ago, her meager empire absorbed into his own. This planet - small, out of the way, and strategically lacking - was ignored by the new ruler. But as far as these people were concerned, their leader and all of her jaffa simply left one day, never to be seen again.
With the monument blatantly uncared for and unvisited in recent times, it was clear the people had given up on the return of their God.
In fact the nearest settlement, a city of moderate proportions, was miles away as the UAV had shown. The architecture was fairly advanced, nearly rivaling the technology of Earth. No contact could be established via radio, so it was up to SG-1 to attempt face-to-face contact.
Unlike the sandy valley suggested, the area was not an empty wasteland. Shrubs and small vegetation sprouted up near the tops of the rolling sides, slowly encroaching further in. The large depression was probably the location of some ancient body of water that had long since disappeared. As they got further out the plant life became more lush. Tall, hearty trees reached for the nearly cloudless sky, and the sounds of small animals and insects filled the air.
"I still find it odd that these people created the monument with such skill, yet the buildings we saw appear so plain and utilitarian," Daniel said, quickly ending the silence that once again descended upon them.
Though it was already addressed in the briefing, even if they could only speculate, Sam humored him. Besides, the question nagged at her as well. "You can hardly expect them to place such dedication and skill into every building they make. Between finding the materials and shaping them, it would have taken years and lots of manpower."
"Much can change over time," Teal'c said, offering another explanation. He surveyed the terrain ever vigilantly.
"Wonder if their devotion to Balaqua was one of those things," Daniel said.
That was the big question floating in the air. Until they figured out the mindset of the people, there was no way to tell if they could become potential allies or trading partners. They would have to be sure to tread lightly through introductions.
Sam wiped her brow as they walked, clutching her P-90 loosely as they walked. The canopy of the forest was sparse, much of the sunlight pierced to the ground below. Several hours had passed since their arrival and the planet's sun was now almost directly overhead. A mild breeze kept the atmosphere from being too oppressive. They were over halfway to the city when they finally found a dirt path, the closest sign of human traffic to the Stargate.
Not long after that, Teal'c raised a fist signaling them to stop. Sam gripped her weapon more securely, scouring their surroundings for whatever had alarmed Teal'c. The others did the same.
"T?" Jack said.
"We are being observed."
Whether the observer heard Teal'c's statement, or his courage finally waved, Sam's head turned to the sound of rustling foliage as someone took off through the woods.
"Wait, we're not going to hurt you!" Daniel shouted. The man continued on, nothing more than a fading streak. "Shouldn't we go after him?"
"Nothing like a group of armed strangers racing on your heels to instill a feeling of trust," Jack said.
"Good point."
Teal'c began walking once again. "They will no doubt be preparing for our arrival now."
Jack was the next to follow. "Hopefully the welcoming committee is friendlier."
They were on edge now, preparing for whatever situation they were walking into. Sam's eyes darted through the slowly thinning underbrush. She could see the buildings in the distance starting to reveal, and the din of life began to seep through. Nothing more than the low tone of hundreds of sounds mixing to the point that none could be identified.
When the woods finally broke, Sam could see the outskirts of the city more clearly. Smaller buildings dotted the edges with the hard packed dirt roads weaving in and out. People going about their business walked the streets, though this area was largely deserted. No vehicles drove these roads, but the sounds of engines further in were becoming more pronounced.
The sound of a few distinct vehicles grew, appearing from within the city. Jack raised his binoculars, and Sam followed suit. Three vehicles, open-topped with similar dimensions as a jeep, drove down the roads. Each person was visibly armed save the drivers, but all wore matching gray uniforms. Like the cars the guns appeared similarly low in technology, but could surely get the job done.
"This could be better already. Keep sharp," Jack said.
"Don't look aggressive," Daniel warned.
Jack sighed. "I'd rather look alive. This ain't our first rodeo, Daniel."
In unison the team's weapons came up in a defensive posture. The vehicles pulled off into flanking positions as they approached. Each stopped about 20 meters away. With weapons trained, the apparent leader stood up from the passenger seat of the center "jeep" stood up.
"Identify yourselves," he said.
Daniel came forward, taking his role as the team's spokesman. "We are peaceful explorers."
"Armed, peaceful explorers," the leader said, cutting him off.
"Only as a precaution. We have no wish for conflict with you. In fact, we wish to talk and establish relations with your people."
The man was silent only for a moment. "Your clothes and weapons are unlike anything here. Where do you come from?"
"We came here through the Stargate," Jack said. His rigid posture signaled his discomfort. Sam felt the same. No one's weapons had been lowered, and there was no sign yet that there would be an understanding. It wasn't looking like this contact would be one of their smoother ones.
"Stargate?" the leader echoed in confusion.
"Chappa'ai," Daniel said.
He still did not understand.
"But they clearly understand Goa'uld, it was written on that tablet," Daniel mused under his breath.
Sam wasn't sure what to make of it either, so she tried a different approach. "We came through that large ring device in the middle of the monument in the valley."
Of all the reactions she would have expected, anger wasn't exactly at the top of her list.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
"We are only here to talk, maybe trade," Jack interjected.
"No. These are lies! The Matellan is nothing more than the fanciful creation of our deluded ancestors."
"It is a transportation device," Sam began, "able to send you vast distances."
"Silence!" in his rage, the leader leapt out of the vehicle, his face growing more red as he spoke. "Your intentions are clear. You are no more interplanetary travelers than I am. It is your goal to turn the Believers, prey on the myths to which they cling. You would start a civil war among our people!"
"No, that's not it at all!" Daniel said. "Everything we told you is true. We have no desire to cause conflict."
Jack stepped in. "Look, it's clear you don't want us here. We'll go back to this... Magellan, and you'll never have to hear from us again."
"Such subversion will not be tolerated! Lower your weapons and surrender now," the man said. The soldiers held their guns with added vigor, waiting for one word or movement to open fire.
Sam stared down the sight of her gun, finger pressing against the trigger just shy of the pressure needed to fire it. Jack, Teal'c, and Daniel were similarly poised. It was going to be very messy for both sides if they began a firefight.
"We don't want to hurt you," O'Neill said, trying one last time to reason.
"O'Neill," Teal'c said in a subdued voice. Sam followed the flick of his head back towards the city, seeing several more vehicles heading in their direction. These were much larger, and covered with a thick canvas material. Troop transports, she had no doubt.
"We are not troubled by similar qualms. Surrender now, or we will hurt you!"
Sam didn't need to crunch the numbers in her head. Even if they managed to eliminate the soldiers in front of them and start running now, the transports would be on them before they could get deep enough into the woods to force them out on foot. One word was uttered in warning. "Sir..."
The slump in Jack's shoulders showed that he had reached the same conclusion.
"My patience is waning," the leader warned.
"All right, all right, take it easy," Jack said. Reluctantly he unsnapped his P-90 from its strap and laid it on the ground. Sam followed suit, feeling the uneasiness flow through her body. With a deep breath she cleared her senses.
This wasn't going to be good.
Guns remained trained on them as several soldiers began frisking them. Keeping her hands up, Sam remained as still as possible as one of the men unhooked her pack, removed her GDO, and then took her flak vest and jacket. Then he frisked her very thoroughly, Sam hid her revulsion. Each were similarly disarmed.
When the larger vehicles arrived they were ushered inside the rear compartments, several guards escorting them. They sat on the bench-like seats that lined both sides of the transports, the guards flanking them on the other side. It was a quiet trip save the noise of the engines.