Disclaimer: I do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'The 4400' or any of the characters associated with either show.
Chapter Two
P6D-524
"Another day, another mission." Jack quipped cheerfully once the last of his team had stepped through the stargate and the wormhole had disengaged. "Daniel, stop sulking."
"I'm not sulking!" The younger man protested, his petulant expression contradicting his assertion. "I just don't see why we couldn't have gone to P3Y-128 instead and let another team take this planet. There were some ruins there…"
"That SG-18 are perfectly capable of exploring," Jack cut him off firmly. The rest of the team had the sense to look away, not to allow themselves to be dragged into the argument. "SG-1 is a frontline unit."
"But…"
"Will. You. Stop?!" Jack spat. "SG-18 will drag anything they can carry back through the gate, and take a thousand and one photos of anything they can't. You're not gonna miss anything. Carter, you and I are taking point. Teal'c, Mitchell, watch our six." He ordered. "Let's move out."
P6D-524 had not been one of the planets on the Abydos Cartouche. When Jack had had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into his brain – an experience he was far from eager to repeat – it had been one of the addresses he had entered on the dialling computer but, so far, he couldn't see anything all that impressive about it.
There were trees. Lots and lots of trees.
"The least they could do is make them a different colour." He grumbled under his breath.
"Sir?" Sam was more than a little bewildered by this remark.
"The trees." He clarified. "Is a little variety too much to ask for?"
She wisely chose not to answer.
"We should get some soil samples, sir, to test for naquadah." She suggested after about half an hour of steady marching, knowing how much their need for the rare metal had increased, especially considering the advances they had made as far as the new gliders and the Prometheus project were concerned over the past few months.
"Good idea." Jack agreed, signalling to the other three that they were about to stop.
It didn't take Sam long to collect the required samples, sealing the vials and carefully stowing them in her pack. "I should collect more samples when we've moved further away." She remarked. "The mineral concentration may be different in different areas."
"So how much naquadah will they need to power one of the gliders?" Mitchell asked.
"A lot." Sam said ruefully, knowing that obtaining a large enough supply of the mineral for their needs was likely to be a difficult task at best; the Goa'uld relied heavily on the metal for their technology and had mining outposts on most of the planets with heavy naquadah concentrations in the soil or in the mines.
"So we should have our first ship… oh, around 2018." Jack estimated.
"That's being pretty optimistic, sir."
Behind them, Teal'c's posture stiffened and he tightened his grip on the staff weapon. "We are not alone, O'Neill." He warned, his teammates holding their own weapons ready to fire, ready to guard against attack.
There was a rustling behind one of the trees, drawing all of their attentions… then a small grey rabbit scampered into their path, staring quizzically at them for a few seconds as though curious about who these strangers who had invaded his territory were before darting away.
"I think we're safe, big guy." Mitchell joked, clapping Teal'c on the shoulder.
Hearing a second rustling sound, Daniel grinned. "Our little friend must have a brother." He joked, the smile quickly disappearing from his face as an unpleasantly familiar round object rolled in front of them.
The shock grenade detonated before any of them had a chance to move.
'Damn rabbit!'
As a rule, prisons tended not to be pleasant places and, despite the fact that the Goa'uld were pretty advanced technologically – even if almost all of their technology had been copied or stolen from other races – their prisons, more often than not, closely resembled mediaeval dungeons.
If anything, their current accommodations were worse than usual.
Jack didn't even want to know what the source of the smell was.
His vision took its sweet time returning and his head felt as though it had been struck with a sledgehammer. Repeatedly. Cracking open an eye, he could just about make out Sam's form stretched out next to him and gently patted her arm.
He knew better than to put his hand within biting range.
"Come on, Carter, up and at 'em." He ordered, waiting until she had pulled herself into a sitting position before turning his attention to the other members of the team. "Everybody okay?"
"I think my skull is going to explode." Mitchell informed him, groaning.
"Thanks for the visual – T, Daniel?"
"I'm okay." Daniel reported, holding a hand in front of his recovering eyes to shield them from the light filtering through the barred window. "I just wish they wouldn't keep taking my glasses."
"My sight has recovered, O'Neill."
"Good for you." As his own vision grew clearer, Jack looked around, hoping to get some clue as to who had captured them but the bare, damp stone walls and sturdy metal bars gave no clues. Their weapons and packs were gone and a glance at his wrist confirmed that his GDO had been taken. Unless they wanted to wind up as splatters on the iris on their return trip, they'd need to get them back.
They could hear the pounding of marching feet and the clanking of Jaffa armor a short distance away and stood. Four Jaffa strode into the corridor in front of their cell; oddly enough, only two of them shared the same tattoo, a bird of some kind.
"You are SG-1, of the Tauri." One of the Jaffa, who seemed to have designated himself the leader despite the fact that he did not bear the traditional gold brand of a First Prime, said in a half-satisfied, half-gloating tone. "Your capture was easier than I had expected."
"If you want, you can let us go and try again," Mitchell suggested hopefully, "we can try and provide more of a challenge this time."
"Humour." His tone was scornful. "You will not amuse my goddesses with your jokes, human!"
"Goddesses?" Sam was surprised by his use of the plural; as a rule, most of the Goa'uld didn't seem to fare too well at playing with others. The successful – so far, at least – alliance between Apophis and Heru'ur was the exception, rather than the rule.
"Hathor and Nirrti." He clarified, puffing his chest with pride. "They will reward me well for my capture of the infamous SG-1. I will be greatly honoured."
"We're happy for you." Jack's voice dripped with sarcasm. Ignoring him, the Jaffa marched away, barring the door behind them. He sighed. "Two snake-heads in one mission?" He grumbled to nobody in particular. "That's just wrong."
"What could Hathor and Nirrti possibly want from each other?" Daniel asked, shuddering slightly at the memory of his previous encounter with Hathor.
"An alliance between them could be mutually beneficial," Teal'c observed shrewdly, "both are outcasts among the System Lords and therefore vulnerable to the forces of more powerful Goa'uld. By combining their forces, they increase their chances of survival. In addition, while Nirrti aims to create a hok'tar to be the perfect host, she is not a queen and therefore cannot produce larval Goa'uld. Hathor can."
"You think that they've made a deal; Nirrti provides the super hosts, Hathor provides the snakes?" Jack asked.
"That is probable."
"Great, that's just what we need!" Jack glanced from one team member to the other. "I'm open to suggestions, kids."
"I think I might be able to force this lock telekinetically," Sam suggested, "or just blow the wall away if we're not worried about subt…"
"Not a chance!" Jack cut her off with a vehemence that surprised her.
"Sir?"
"I mean it, Carter, don't try anything until we have a better idea of what kind of numbers they've got, and what our chances are of getting away clean. Nirrti experimented on the people on Cassie's planet for generations trying to breed a superhuman. Cassie nearly died because of those experiments," he added, kicking himself inwardly – and not for the first time – over the fact that he had let her go. She finds out about what you can do, and it'll be like Christmas Day for her."
"But maybe…"
"I'm making it an order." He told her firmly. "Do not do anything to let Nirrti know about your ability. Not until we know what we're up against."
"Yes, sir." Sam responded quietly.
"So," Mitchell spoke up when the silence had dragged on for a few minutes. "What now?"
Jack shrugged. "Interrogation, threats, torture… y'know, the usual."
"Fun." Mitchell grimaced.
"You know," Daniel began, "if we'd gone to P3Y-128 like I wanted to…"
"Don't even think about saying it!"
Daniel subsided, knowing better than to push his luck when Jack was in that kind of mood, and the team settled down to await the return of their captors, each doing their best to prepare him or herself for the inevitable interrogation.
During the nine years the Stargate Program had been in operation, its teams had proven to be quite a thorn in the sides of the System Lords and SG-1 were considered particularly troublesome. Not only were they valuable prizes in their own right, Earth itself was a target. Even though the treaty with Asgard protected it, they all knew that the System Lords wouldn't be weeping bitter tears if Hathor and Nirrti were able to breach the iris and destroy them.
When the Jaffa returned about an hour later, it was in a group twenty strong, equipped with manacles which they used to bind SG-1's hands behind their backs before escorting them out of their cell and through the corridors to a large, opulent chamber.
Their escorts did not allow their guard to slip for an instant, keeping their weapons at the ready; Nirrti and Hathor had evidently learned their lesson about underestimating the Tauri.
Unfortunately.
Once they had been escorted into the room, they were herded into a line and roughly shoved down onto their knees.
"Now that's just rude." Jack chided them, getting a backhanded slap across the face for his pains. "Ow!"
"Colonel O'Neill," a familiar and decidedly unwelcome voice spoke his name in an amused tone. Hathor's hand was cold and Jack jerked his head away as she stroked his cheek with a chilly finger, the metal of her hand device grazing against his skin. Nirrti hung back, watching the show with obvious enjoyment. "What an unexpected pleasure." She turned her attention to the rest of the team, an almost feral smile crossing her face when she saw Daniel, turning to a frown when she reached Sam. "Captain Carter. We had heard that you had been lost. We rejoiced to hear it."
"Looks like you need to find yourself some better spies."
Ignoring Sam, Hathor accepted a GDO from one of her Jaffa, looking expectantly at the group lined up before her. "Tell me the code that will open your iris."
"S-U-C-K, M-Y," Mitchell began; before a Jaffa whacked him on the back of the head with a staff, and he found himself face down on the floor, trying to blink a trickle of blood out of his eyes.
Hathor regarded Mitchell appraisingly. "We will have time for games later," she promised. "For now, more serious matters must intrude. Although," she added, holding a hand over Jack's forehead as the device began to glow, "that's not to say I will not enjoy this."
Sam started forward, wanting to prevent this torture, but was halted in her tracks when two meaty hands landed on her shoulders and forced her to remain still.
Seeing this, Hathor smiled in what was probably meant to be a reassuring manner. "It need not be so difficult, my dear," she said, her tone almost friendly, "just give me the code, and I will not have to harm him."
"Carter!" Jack's tone was warning. "Don't – that goes for all of you, not a word… Ah! Son of a bitch!" He yelled out as the orange beam from the ribbon device focused on his forehead, scorching the skin, the heat and pressure building up in his skull until it felt ready to explode. He bit back his screams, determined not to give Hathor the satisfaction of hearing them…
…and then the pain was gone.
When he opened his eyes, it was Hathor who was crying out, her eyes wide with horror and disbelief as her wrist twisted, against her will, to aim the ribbon device at her own head. The light on the ribbon device faded to black but her relief was short-lived as it lit up again an instant later, stronger and brighter than before, its beam bringing her, gasping to her knees as she experienced the torture she had inflicted on countless others.
The Jaffa gaped, open-mouthed at the spectacle, some of them taking a few cautious steps backwards.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Nirrti demanded, striding forward, her dark eyes flashing, becoming cold and hard as they settled on Sam, whose expression was calm, almost serene, her concentration undisturbed by the panicked reactions around her. "You! What have you done…" She yelped as an invisible hand seized her by the ankle and hauled her off her feet, leaving her suspended upside-down in mid air, her head about four feet above the hardwood floor, the fabric of her sari tangling around her body.
With one final howl, Hathor slumped to the floor, her eyes glowing yellow for an instant before turning glassy and opaque, her face ashen.
From her ignoble position, Nirrti hissed and writhed in impotent rage.
The Jaffa were struck dumb, moving a safe distance away from SG-1, their fearful gazes fixed on Sam, who only seemed to register their reaction at that moment.
"Behold your new goddess!" Mitchell announced jokingly, pointing in Sam's direction.
The Jaffa dropped to their knees, bowing until their foreheads were scarcely an inch away from the floor, not daring to look at the woman who had defeated their goddesses so effortlessly.
Jack growled softly in frustration. "Mitchell, I'm going to kill you."
"But she's the one who…" Deciding that courting Sam's displeasure would not be the wisest course of action, he swiftly changed tack. "I was kidding!"
"They don't seem to get the joke," Jack indicated the prostrate Jaffa with a wave of his hand before turning his attention to Sam. "Which is why it's a bad idea for you to be showing off!" He regarded the furious Nirrti for a moment, unable to keep the grin from his face a moment longer. "Can you make her spin?"
SGC
Dr McKay had once personally crunched the numbers and his findings had come as a surprise to few; as a team, SG-1 were the most likely to run into trouble offworld, racking up more accidents that the next two teams combined and getting into situations so bizarre that nobody would have predicted them.
Only Sergeant Siler spent more time in the infirmary than Dr Jackson, SG-1's reigning champion as far as injuries were concerned, did.
It was therefore no surprise that whenever the team needed to contact Earth before their scheduled check-ins, General Hammond's first reaction was always worry over what kind of trouble SG-1 had managed to get themselves into this time.
After giving the order to open the iris, he watched from the control room, wondering what he would see today and praying that all five team members would return alive.
Daniel was the first to walk down the ramp, closely followed by Mitchell, whose delighted grin reassured those present, letting them know that all was well. Jack and Sam emerged next, speaking quietly about something, their words inaudible.
"Colonel O'Neill, report." Hammond ordered over the microphone, concerned by Teal'c's absence.
"We ran into a little trouble, sir," Jack responded, "Carter took out two Goa'uld with both hands tied behind her back. We got some soil samples…"
"Are you serious?!" Hammond demanded, glancing at Sam, who was pink with embarrassment at the stares she was attracting.
"Yes, sir," Jack confirmed, a hint of pride creeping into his voice despite his efforts to sound casual. "both hands, tied behind her back."
Before Hammond could ask where Teal'c was, the final member of SG-1 exited the wormhole and strode down the ramp, a struggling figure, secured with rope and manacles, slung over one shoulder. Once he had reached the foot of the ramp, he deposited his captive, none to gently, on the floor.
If looks could kill, Nirrti's glare would have reduced everyone within fifty feet of her to ashes. "You'll pay for this! All of you!"
Jack grinned up at Hammond. "We brought you a little present, sir – happy birthday."
TBC.
Author's Note: What do you get the General who has everything? Next update should be soon, with more on Sam's new power - though you've probably all guessed what it is by now.
