Sergeant Walter Harriman pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. The long days of repairing the iris were getting to him. He got up to stretch his legs and grab a cup of coffee. At least the Goa'uld didn't know that the iris was down for repairs, but even if they knew, the fall of the System Lords would probably make the few remaining less than enthusiastic about attacking earth. Also, no teams were currently off-world, so the risk of sudden emergencies wasn't too big. That aside, everyone on the base were a little edgy without the protection the iris provided them. It would be good to have it back up and running by tomorrow.
Walter was brought out of his musings when an alarm suddenly filled the room. Weariness forgotten and all business, he rushed to his console and yelled into the microphone:
"Unscheduled off-world activation! Defense teams to gate-room!"
Behind him he could hear General Hammond rushing down the stairs from the briefing room and come to a halt beside him.
"We're receiving an incoming wormhole Sir. Unknown address and the iris is still off-line."
"Defense teams stand by!" General Hammond said through the microphone as men in green and black uniforms poured into the gate-room, taking up defensive positions and pointing their weapons at the gate as the wormhole was established and the unstable vortex shot out into the room, before retreating back into the gate leaving only the bluish, rippling event horizon.
"We're not receiving any IDC Sir!" Walter said; tension thick in the control room. Was this the beginning of the end for the Tau'ri?
Moments later four people came out of the stargate at a dead run. One was a young man in a black robe, golden cape and with a big sword at his hip. Another was a tall, elderly man with long silvery hair. He was wearing plain brownish robes. The third was a woman with long black hair and a satiny white dress with ample cleavage and sleeves that hung after her. The last one of the group was a tall woman with a long, blonde braid and dressed in what appeared to be skin-tight red leather. They all stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the roomful of men all pointing their weapons at them.
Richard and the others came running out of the blue and stopped haltingly on some kind of ramp. They were in a big room of a uniform, dark grey color, illuminated in a rippling, bluish light. All around the room were men in green and black outfits with dark green helmets pointing some black thingies at them. At the far end of the room was a big window, behind which two men in light blue clothing could be seen.
"This is Major General George Hammond of the SGC. Put your weapons down, your hands up and surrender immediately or we will open fire!" A disembodied voice boomed through the room.
Cara, clearly not liking the situation hissed "I don't think so." And abruptly leaped for the nearest of the green and black-clothed men, agiel in hand. A series of loud cracks echoed through the room and Cara stumbled and fell, blood running from her left leg. Several of the men ran up to her and screaming and yelling ordered her to stay down. Quickly realizing that it wouldn't be wise to try to fight their way out of this, Richard raised his hands and yelled that they surrendered. Zedd and Kahlan also raised their hands. That seemed to calm things down a little, and more of the men poured up the ramp and surrounded the three of them, quickly taking away the Sword of Truth and Kahlan's daggers, as well as searching proficiently for any concealed weapons. Then they were firmly escorted out of the room, through several narrow hallways before being shoved into a small room.
"Wait! What about Cara!" Richard exclaimed as the guard began closing the door. There was no answer, and the heavy door closed with a soft click.
"Something tells me we didn't make a very good first impression." Richard said as he turned to the two others.
"I guess they have every right to be angry for Cara trying to attack one of them." Kahlan said.
"Yeah, wonder what they're going to do to her."
The question was left hanging in the air. No one really wanted to speculate about what these people would do to a Mord-sith. Instead, Richard began inspecting their cell. It appeared to be made from the same material as the big room: An even, dark grey surface as smooth as polished marble, without the tiniest crack in it. Richard knew a thing or two about buildings, but for the life of his he couldn't figure out what this material was. There were no torches or similar in the room, but light shone out from a long object from under the ceiling. It appeared to be made out of glass, but he couldn't see exactly what it was because the light was too strong to look directly into.
"Looks like some kind of light sphere." He pointed out to his grandfather.
"Except that it is not really spherical and that it shines much more brightly, but otherwise yes." Zedd responded.
They all three suddenly turned to the door, where a small hatch had been opened and a pair of eyes were looking in. A click came from the door and it opened. One of the men in green and black pointed at Richard and said: "You. Come with me". They all three started moving towards the door, but the guard snapped: "The two of you stay here!"
Richard looked back at Kahlan. She nodded and backed off a step. He turned back and walked out of the room. The door was closed, but strangely enough, they didn't use any keys. Only the changing of a red light next to the door, into green betrayed that the door was probably securely locked. What was this place?
"We'll have to put these on you." One of the guards said and showed Richard what appeared to be a set of manacles. They held his arms behind his back and snapped the manacles shut around his wrists. Richard didn't like it one bit, he still had nightmares about the last time he'd had his wrists chained behind his back. But he didn't really have any options, so he went quietly along. At least it wasn't a collar. With a guard in front and two at his sides holding his arms, he was escorted through more hallways and up stairs all teeming with activity, before emerging in a much different room. It had a long, elegant wooden table and bright colors on the walls. One wall featured an enormous window which provided a view of a big, round, upright ring on a platform with a ramp, several floors below. Several people were already waiting in the room. Two of the guards took off the manacles and sat him down on a chair at one end of the table, then went to stand by the door. At the other end of the table sat a big, balding man in a light blue shirt. Richard couldn't help but think of Jagang, though only the bald head really had any resemblance. There was not a single wrinkle in this man's shirt, a dark blue piece of clothing hung strait down from around his neck. Emblems and what appeared to be insignias of rank decorated his left chest and shoulders and he sat with a quiet air of respect and authority around him. In fact, everything about him appeared utterly civilized and well controlled, so Richard dared let his hopes rise a bit. Civilized was always a better sign than uncivilized. Down the sides of the table were several more people. To the left of the balding man was a middle-aged but graying man in an open, dark green jacket with a black, ruffled shirt underneath it. Next to him sat a big, dark-skinned man with a golden emblem on his forehead and a stoic, but watchful expression. He looked like someone who would fit right in with the First File. He was wearing the same black shirt, but without the green jacket. On the other side of the table sat a younger man, complete with black shirt and green jacket, but also with some strange pieces of glass mounted on his nose, right in front of his eyes. Several guards were spaced around by the walls.
The man at the end of the table spoke:
"I am Major General George Hammond; I'm the commander of this facility." "This…" he held his hand out to the graying man to his right "… is Colonel Jack O'Neill. Teal'c…" he indicated the big man "…and Dr. Daniel Jackson. He is our expert on alien cultures and languages." "Now I would like you to tell me who you are, where you're from and why you are here." He had a deep but pleasant voice. He sounded like a strict man who expected answers when he asked a question, but at the same time like a man that could make men follow him to the end of the world if need be.
Richard hesitated for a moment, pondering how much he was willing to reveal, before speaking.
"My name is Richard Rahl; I'm the leader of the D'Haran Empire. The woman in white is Kahlan Amnell; the Mother Confessor and my wife. The old man is Zeddicus Zull Zorander; Wizard of the First Order and my grandfather. The last one is Cara, our protector. Speaking of which: how is she?"
General Hammond held Richards gaze for a while before responding.
"She'll be all right; given that she doesn't try anything fancy. Dr. Fraiser is taking care of her as we speak…"
"Well that's a relief."
"…But you must understand that we do not take kindly to people who attack us for no reason."
Richard sighed inwardly. Cara had most definitely made a difficult situation worse.
"I understand. And on her behalf I would like to extend an apology. Please understand that she was taught to defend us even at the cost of her own life. She obviously didn't like having us being the center of that kind of attention."
"Perhaps it is not wise to be so aggressive when acting as a bodyguard for others, as it might lead to an undesired escalation of an otherwise solvable situation, thereby endangering ones charges." The big man named Teal'c said.
"Yeah I'll have to point that out to her."
"Indeed."
"Hmm. You said you were from where?" General Hammond asked.
"D'Hara. Well actually I was born and raised in Westland but my mother and father were from the Midlands and D'Hara, respectively."
The general turned to Dr. Jackson: "D'Hara, Midlands… Do any of these names mean anything to you?"
"Uhm, no. I don't recall ever hearing about a D'Hara… I do remember several accounts of something that I guess you could call a confessor. Uhm, usually some way of making people admit to crimes, true or alleged. Used for purging political and religious opponents. Somewhat similar to the Spanish Inquisition."
Richard's heart sank. He had no idea what the Spanish Inquisition was, but by the way Jackson talked about purging it sounded too much like the Imperial Order.
"No, no. It's nothing like that." He interrupted. "The Confessors are meant to ensure justice by overseeing trials and ensure proper proceedings and such."
"Oh." Jackson said. "Well then I don't think I have heard of any of it."
Richard deliberately withheld the part about Confessors touching people with their power; taking away their free will and making them willingly divulge everything. He didn't think that these people needed to know that right now when they were so obviously very cautious and distrustful. If things went really bad it might also come in handy.
"You still need to tell us why you're here." General Hammond said.
"Well, it's actually quite a story." Richard said. General Hammond didn't appear amused.
Inwardly, Richard cursed his flippant tongue.
"You see, we found this old book all the way back from before the Great War. It detailed a way to travel to another world which was unreachable by conventional means of travel, even the Sliph..."
"Uh, wait a minute; what is a Sliph?" Dr. Jackson asked.
"Never mind." Richard said "The important thing is that we found this book and decided to investigate. We came under attack and were forced to flee through the portal; and then we ended up here."
"You know; it would help us a lot if you could tell us what the name of you planet is." The graying man had so far remained silent, but now he leaned across the table to get a good look at Richard.
"Planet? I don't understand." Richard asked confused.
"Jack if they're from a culture where swords are still the prevailing weapon they might not even realize that their planet is just one among countless others..." The man named Jackson remarked.
"…Maybe we should leave it be and just give Sam some more time to go through the data. I don't think we'll get any closer otherwise."
"Good idea." General Hammond admitted. "Guards please have them moved to one of the guest quarters and see to their needs. I am, however, restricting your movement to those quarters…" The last part was directed straight at Richard. "…You may only leave with the direct consent of either me, Colonel O'Neill, Dr. Jackson or Major Carter; and only under escort. Otherwise you will stay in your quarters. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes General." Richard responded.
"Very well. Dismissed." The general got up and left the room down a circular stair in one corner. The guards stepped forward and escorted Richard back out the door. After a quick trip through the labyrinth of hallways they came to a new door, and the guard showed Richard into a comfortable room. Much better than the obvious holding cell from before.
"The others will be here shortly. Make yourself at home." The guard said before closing the door. Richard took in the room. It had a big double bed as well as a table with several chairs. There were several big plants in equally big pots, as well as a soft couch facing a black box with a glassy side, that Richard had no idea what did. The walls were the same dull gray as everything else, but at least, with the plants, it wasn't too hard to envision a forest. There was another door in the room. Curiously, Richard tried it and found that it wasn't locked. It opened out to another small hallway with one door in the left side and another in the far end. Behind the left door was a room that Richard didn't quite know what to make of; Floor and walls covered in ceramic tiles. At one side there was what appeared to be a ceramic washbowl with a polished metal rod protruding up and bending down over the bowl. On either side of it were two equally polished knobs, one with a blue marking on it and the other with a red marking on it. On the wall above it all hung a big mirror. In a corner was something even stranger: It looked like a chair, except that it was hollow and mostly made up of the same white ceramic as the washbowl. In another corner was a niche which was hidden behind a curtain. Behind was of the red and blue knobs and a lot of stuff that Richard didn't even know how to describe. Maybe he should let the guard explain it to him. He seemed friendly enough once things had calmed down and they weren't about to kill each other. The last room held another bed. This room wasn't as big as the other, but it also held no tables and only a few plants.
"Richard?" He suddenly heard Kahlan calling. He rushed back to the first room and embraced her.
"It's going to be okay, I think they're nice people. The just got startled when we suddenly came out of nowhere."
"Well I can't say we wouldn't be." Zedd said.
"This is obviously some kind of military establishment." Richard said. "I doubt the Mord-sith would be as lenient as to ask for a surrender before attacking if someone just came out of thin air in one of the restricted areas of the People's Palace."
"Speaking of which…" Kahlan asked "…Do you know what happened to Cara?"
"They said she was going to be fine. Some guy named Dr. Fraiser was taking care of her."
Kahlan looked puzzled "What does "doctor" mean?"
"I don't know. One of the guys present when they asked me questions also went by "doctor". But I think this Fraiser may be some kind of healer."
There was a knock on the door. Richard went to answer the door, unsure of it was locked or if he should open it.
"Who's there?" He asked. "Dr. Daniel Jackson requests permission to enter." The guard outside responded. "Oh, well let him in."
The door opened and the young man with glass on his nose entered.
"Hello and good day. My name is Dr. Daniel Jackson and I'm the lead archeologist and linguist here. It's nice to meet you all, now that we're no longer pointing weapons at each other."
"You're what?" kahlan asked dumbfounded.
"Uh, I'm glad to meet you all…"
"No, no. Before that." Kahlan interrupted.
"Oh. Well I'm an archeologist and linguist which means, uh, that I study ancient cultures and languages."
"Really? I actually know quite a few languages myself."
"Well that's excellent. We might be able to use that to pinpoint where you're from. In the meantime, uhm, as you may know I'm a bit of a culture buff, uh, so I'd like to take this opportunity to learn more about your civilization; if that's okay with you?"
"Of course it is." Kahlan said. "But first I have a few question that I would like answered."
"Uh, okay." Daniel asked cautiously.
"First of all: Where are we?"
"Anything; Major?" General Hammond asked the moment he stepped off the stair in the control room. Major Samantha Carter was busily working at a terminal and didn't hear him at first.
"Major?" He asked again with a little inward smile. It was very typical of Sam to be so caught up in her work. Finally she realized that she wasn't alone anymore, and turned around.
"General Hammond, Sir. Sorry I didn't hear you."
"At ease Major. Got anything?"
"No sir, I'm afraid not. No matter what I do I can't seem to find out what address the gate was dialed from. It's almost like the gate was dialed from here!"
"Is it just me or shouldn't we know of it if someone had dialed the gate from here?" Colonel O'Neill asked.
"How about time travelers?" Hammond asked. "We know from experience that the gate can be used to send people back and forth in time."
"Right. That's what I thought at first." Sam said "So I checked for the usual tell-tale signs but came up empty-handed. No solar flares, no gravitational wells, nu sudden energy spikes…"
"Wouldn't a solar flare have to be in the outgoing "age" to do anything?" O'Neill offered.
"Yes, but there would still be tell-tale signs of that in the energy-fluctuations."
"Besides, their clothing, although unlike anything I have ever heard described, and the sword would put them somewhere in the middle-ages, uh, 11th to 16th century where we know the gate was buried." Daniel added.
"So, no time travelers?" O'Neill asked.
"No sir, don't think so." Sam said. "I studied the readouts from our trip to 1969 and the gate showed clear signs of having an established connection. I didn't see the same here. As I said, it's like it wasn't even dialed. Technically there shouldn't even have been a connection."
"Then how do you explain the four people that came out of the stargate looking like they got lost on the way to a medieval fair?" O'Neill asked pointedly. His secret motto for Sam had for a long time been: "If it's physically possible, it can be done. If it isn't, count on Carter to make it possible." So he had a hard time accepting that she was now declaring something impossible when possible was so obviously screaming in their faces.
"Sorry sir, I can't. I'll keep working; maybe I'll come across something."
"You do that Major." General Hammond said. "In the meantime we had better get that iris back online. I'm not too anxious to have any more uninvited guests."
"Maybe I should go talk to them; see if I can find out anything." Daniel offered.
"You watch yourself Daniel." O'Neill said. "For all we know they could be Goa'uld."
"I don't think so sir." Sam said, already back at her workstation. "I passed them as they were being hauled to the first cell and I didn't feel anything."
"Well, that's good… But they still might be Za'tarc."
"Don't worry Jack, I'll be careful." Daniel said.
