Prisoners
Deep inside the maximum security prison, the night guard supervisor radioed the head guard for cell block 16. "I just got a call from Council Security. We've got special prisoners arriving – four of them."
"The rebels from the museum?" asked the guard.
"Who they are is classified," the supervisor snapped. "Our orders are to initiate a full-lock down of all levels."
"Yes, sir!" the guard replied, and then hurried to spread the message to the other guards in his block. Within moments, the halls of the vast prison were empty. There were no observers when a squad of black-garbed soldiers burst into the entry hall in pairs, each dragging a prisoner between them. The prisoners were handcuffed and draped in black hoods that covered their heads and shoulders. The soldiers swept them past the intake area, where arriving prisoners were typically identified and searched. Instead, the soldiers delivered their charges directly to four solitary isolation cells, each in a separate block of the prison.
"Well, this is no fun," Daniel announced to the darkness. His hood and cuffs had been removed in the hall, but his eyes had not yet made the adjustment to the change in light level before he had been roughly shoved into the total blackness of his cell. At least with the hood, there had been a little bit of light that filtered around the edges and through the fabric. He suspected that the darkness was the first step in the inevitable interrogation of the team, designed to break down their will to resist.
Without sight, he was reduced to using his hands to explore the cell. He found that the cell seemed comparatively humane, with a metal sink, toilet, and bunk. After exploring every section that he could reach, he made his way over to the bunk and laid down. To his surprise, he began trembling slightly, as his body sought release of the tension of the past several hours. The trembling passed after a few minutes, only to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.
Probably a lingering effect of that stun weapon, he thought. I should try to rest, if I can. I would be better prepared to handle whatever happens next. But he found it difficult, as his thoughts turned to the other members of the team. Were they nearby? Were they all right?
The last he'd seen of Vala, before the hood was pulled down over his eyes, she was resisting a soldier's attempt to put a hood on her. She had tossed her head, given the guard one of her most fetching smiles, and protested, "I'm much better looking without it." The soldier had hesitated a moment before a sharp word from his superior forced him to carry out his orders and put the hood on her. Daniel smiled briefly at the memory. But he knew that the confident and capable Vala he'd met on the Promethus could also be frightened and vulnerable. There was an ache in his chest at the thought of her alone in a prison.
As Daniel closed his eyes and attempted to rest, Vala was wide awake in a distant part of the capital city. She was sitting in an isolation cell deep inside a women's prison, considering a variety of options for escape. Like the men, she had been relieved of just her tac vest and her obvious weapons, but had not yet been searched. This left a small yet useful assortment of tools hidden about her person. No prison would hold Vala Mal Doran for very long.
For the first hour or so after the arrest of the aliens, Jayem Seran -- night security guard second class, and (at least in his own mind) national hero -- strutted back and forth across the museum alcove that held the Stargate. He had appointed himself the job of supervising the troops guarding it against further invasion. After all, he had first-hand experience in dealing with aliens. But he had started to tire, and so was now perched on the top of the faux stone steps that led to the giant ring.
Suddenly, he heard a scraping sound behind him. He turned around slowly, startled to see that the inner section of the ring had begun spinning. The ring stopped, and a light appeared on one of the chevrons on the outer ring. Then the spinning started again.
Jayem got up and started backing away from the ring, one step at a time, never taking his eyes off it. Behind him, the soldiers trained their weapons on the ring. Jayem was in the line of fire.
"Get out of the way, you idiot!" called their commanding officer.
"Don't be afraid," Jayem called to the guards. "I've seen this before. Nothing happens until all of those things light up."
At that moment, the last chevron lit, and the vortex roared out towards the stunned guards. Jayem stumbled backwards and fell the rest of the way down the steps, narrowly avoiding disintegration. From his undignified position, he found himself staring up at the gate, and was momentarily transfixed by the bright, shimmering pool in the center of the ring. Then he remembered himself, and pulled out his own handgun, aiming at the pool as best he could with his shaking hand. Several minutes passed, but no one came through the ring.
In the headquarters of the Council Security Command, just a few miles from the museum, SG-1's equipment was spread out on a table. The MALP was sitting in the corner, and a couple of scientists were busy trying to determine the functions of its various components. Both men jumped with surprise as the the SG-1 team's radios burst to life.
"This is General Landry. SG-1, you're overdue for your check-in. Please report."
The older of the two men grabbed a recording device and pointed it at the table containing the pile of alien gear. The younger man simply stared at the table, frozen in shock.
"SG-1, please report," came the request again.
What should we do? the younger scientist mouthed to the other. His co-worker shrugged helplessly.
"Colonel Mitchell, can you respond?" Landry's voice could be heard in stereo through the four radios. "Doctor Jackson . . . Vala . . . Teal'c? If one of you can hear me, please respond."
A few minutes passed with no further messages. Then, the camera on the alien probe sprang to life, panning the room slowly. The two scientists kept out of its way as it turned, staying silent and avoiding the lens. After a few sweeps of the room, the camera stilled.
"I was afraid it was some sort of weapon," the younger scientist whispered. Then he laughed nervously. "I thought it was going to blast us, or something."
"It still could," the elder replied. "We can't think it's safe just because it didn't destroy us immediately. We'd better report this to Quartus.
Back at the museum, the soldiers breathed a collective sigh of relief as the gate shut down. As far as they knew, nothing had happened.
"Honored Viceroy, I apologize for the lateness of the hour," Quartus said, with a deep bow.
"Your news is urgent. Please proceed," answered the imposing man known as Marcus Pinarius Augustus, Viceroy of Gallia Nova. With his dark curling hair, piercing eyes, and classic Roman nose, he could have substituted as a model for the portrait of an ancient Caesar. He gestured to a seat in front of his elegant desk.
Quartus sat across from the Viceroy, and began his report. "The members of the group that broke into the museum have been taken to our most secure prisons. The woman is in a separate woman's prison, and the men are in separate isolation cells to reduce the opportunity for a joint escape. And, as you ordered, knowledge of their presence is being kept completely secret. We have detained all of the former hostages and are debriefing them right now."
"Excellent," the Viceroy said, with a thin smile. "It has been too long since I enjoyed a victory over the Circle of Heaven."
The Viceroy's pleasure was cut short by the sound of running feet. An aide rushed into the room.
"Your pardon, Viceroy!" he said, breathlessly. "I have an important message for Chief Negotiator Quartus." The aide turned to Quartus. "This is from the scientific team examining the equipment recovered from the museum." He handed a sealed envelope to the officer.
Quartus quickly opened the envelope and skimmed the note.
"Dispatch an additional contingent of guards to the museum, immediately," he ordered the aide. "And begin making arrangements to move that ring to somewhere more secure."
A/N: Killer mushroom, Blessington, Kentkawes, thanks for the reviews! And thanks to those who put this story on alert, as well.
le59: This is one of my favorite episodes just because it had a touch of fun that reminded me of the early seasons. But after examining the dialog and visuals to better understand the world of Quartus and the rebels, the fic itself is has to be a bit dark. I'll put in humor where I can.
acer-signma: I love it when the SGC shows up in force and whumps the villians, like in the opening scene of Forever in a Day.