Title: Smoke on the Water
Part: 7/10
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Genre: Adventure, romance
Season: Set between Ark of Truth and Continuum
Chapter Summary: O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c and Mitchell head to set the trap, but Vala has a plan of her own...
PART SEVEN
Since her realisation in the lab, Vala had rapidly lost her enthusiasm for their latest mission. She had thought that a jaunt outside the base would be a good distraction, an occasion for fun and shopping and teasing Daniel. All that had been ruined, thanks to Qetesh's failed experiments. She was only just learning how to deal with the consequences of her own misdeeds, never mind those for which she was not responsible. Once again her past was laying claim to her present, and it made her want to run.
But she refused to run. She wouldn't let the guilt go unchallenged this time. She wouldn't let the consequences overtake her.
The whole building smelt of a strange chemical that reminded her of one particularly wild night on Manesca, one of her safe-haven planets during her days as a con-artist. Nobody asked questions on Manesca, because those who did tended to lose the capacity to ask any more. Somebody had ordered her a sparkling green drink that had tasted exactly the way this place smelled.
The smell intensified as she stepped through the doors that led through to the swimming pool. The air was warm and moist, and she tried not to breathe in too much. Armed guards stood at intervals around the pool, oxygen masks hanging ready around their necks. She waved them away, and though at first they seemed reluctant to leave she gave her best stern glare and one by one they slipped out of the room. She waited until the last one had left before pacing forward across the wet tiles at the near end of the pool.
She turned to face the prisoner and recognised him at once.
He saw her and suddenly stood up in the pool, causing a cascade of water to rush down its scaly back. Qetesh!
The thought it projected was full of panic, and Vala smiled in satisfaction. For all the destruction Qetesh had wrought during her despicably long life, in death she certainly had her uses.
Smoyi, she replied, and gave a mock bow.
The situation finally made sense. Smoyi was indeed here to hunt down the Goa'uld: he had taken a vow before Qetesh to hunt down the last of her experiments and exterminate them. Through his speed and cunning, he had evaded capture and led a guerrilla campaign against her until she had been forced to abandon her research on Eunasta completely.
He stuttered: This... surely... no... Earth...
Smoyi's thoughts were so jumbled that she only caught a handful of words. Vala folded her arms and smiled a self-satisfied smile.
Surely yes, she corrected. I was not defeated by your schemes, Smoyi. I merely altered my tactics to suit the new state of affairs in this galaxy. The system lords are no more. Ba'al was the last. It is time for me to begin my rule, Smoyi, and Earth shall be my throne room.
Smoyi stared at her: wide, black eyes shining with fear. Wisps of smoke were forming on the water's surface. Vala nodded slowly: it was enough. She turned and left him to his fear.
*
"You told it what?" Daniel demanded. Vala blinked at him innocently from the other side of the disinfected reception desk.
"Are you insane?" he added, before deciding that was the kind of question he really shouldn't ask. Vala gave a sweet little shrug and span full circle on her rotating chair.
"It's all part of General O'Neill's plan," she said brightly.
"Oh, I very much doubt that."
"Okay, Daniel. I wasn't going to say anything, but it was my big idea. I convinced General O'Neill to go along with it while you were chit-chatting away to Smoyi – with absolutely no success, I hasten to add."
Daniel's frown deepened. "Smoyi?"
"The alien we've got in the pool. His name is Smoyi. He led the rebellion against Qetesh on Eunasta; he developed a bit of a vendetta against anything associated with her research. If anyone can stop a rogue krenol'ta with a symbiote problem, he can."
"Oh, really? And how does convincing him that Qetesh is still alive help him trust us?"
"Well, it doesn't," Vala answered, sounding puzzled at the question. "We're not trying to get him to trust us."
"Uh, some of us have found trust a very useful thing to build in the past. It – Smoyi – could be an ally of Earth. He doesn't need to be fooled into thinking we're all in league with the Goa'uld!"
"Daniel. These creatures aren't interested in making friends. They're basically a predatory race and highly defensive. They don't want to know what the rest of the galaxy is doing, as long as they get left alone. The only reason Smoyi is here is because he knows that if a blended krenol'ta establishes itself on a planet with technology, the first thing it will do is return to conquer Eunasta."
Daniel sighed. "I still think lying is the wrong way to go. And I still don't understand how this particular lie is going to help us at all."
"Smoyi is deathly afraid of Qetesh. He let you capture him because he thought you might be of some use to his own plans, but now he's in too much danger. He'll have to escape."
"So?"
"So, he escapes. By that time General O'Neill and the others will have set their trap. Smoyi follows his instincts to find the Goa'uld; both are drawn to the trap; Smoyi helps bring the Goa'uld down."
Daniel stared at her for a moment before replying, "Okay, now I know Jack didn't give you permission for this. He would never risk lives by letting an alien have free reign through the streets."
Vala pursed her lips, contemplating. Then she stood up and said, "Alright, I'll be brutally honest with you: I only just came up with the last part of the plan. But General O'Neill did say I could pretend to be Qetesh in order to help with the interrogation."
"Vala...!"
"Daniel, I don't think you realise how powerful a blended krenol'ta can be! It has all the strength and intelligence of a Goa'uld, its smoke is deadly and it's almost impossible to kill. I think General O'Neill is severely underestimating the threat level he's facing."
"Well why didn't you tell him that?"
"I did! But he insisted on going after it himself. The only way we're going to beat this thing is by getting Smoyi to help us."
"Then why couldn't you ask him for help?"
"Daniel! You're not listening!" Vala's eyes were ablaze. "Smoyi is here now, on Earth. If we let him think we're all only human he'll take this city as his own territory and he'll kill to do it. He doesn't care that we're the good guys. To him, we're just... the guys. Not good, not bad, just prey he can drain with his smoke. That's it. But if he thinks Qetesh is in charge here, he'll want to get out as quickly as he can. He'll go home and he won't come back."
Daniel gazed at her, torn. If Vala was right about this – and if she wasn't trying to fool him – then Jack's plan simply wouldn't be good enough; but Jack would never agree to what she had set in motion. Yet by the sounds of it, it was already too late: Daniel had no doubt that if Smoyi really wanted to escape, he could.
"I should warn Jack," Daniel muttered, reaching into his pocket.
"Don't call him," Vala pleaded. "He'll double the security detail. If Smoyi has decided to escape – and I'll bet he has – anyone we put in the way will only get hurt. Please, Daniel!"
Dismayed, Daniel withdrew his hand, empty, from his jacket pocket. He knew her appeal was genuine. "Then what are we going to do? We can't just let him roam the streets."
"No," Vala agreed; she sounded relieved. "But don't worry; I have a plan for that too."
*
Sam was feeling anxious. This in itself was of no surprise to her: the sensation had grown unpleasantly familiar during her time on Atlantis, though of course as a member of SG-1 it had hardly been a stranger. Now, though, it was not so much the impending confrontation that made her fingers itch for her P90: it was Jack, pacing the riverbank like a guard dog behind a fence, and Teal'c, giving off waves of tension even as he stood there beside her, stoic as ever.
"Teal'c," she said, turning to him at last. "You okay?"
He looked at her, slowly. "I am fine, Colonel Carter."
Teal'c turned his gaze away from her and she felt she should explain the question. "It's just... well, you seem a little on edge."
He looked at her again and gave her the slightest of head-bows. "I am fine," he repeated.
She nodded back to him and resumed watching the activity around her. The trap was almost set; and though this was her idea, Sam couldn't help feeling the only part she had to play was as bait. Perhaps that was why Teal'c seemed nervous: he wanted to act, too.
Sam glanced at the small, rectangular screen she held in her right hand. She had calibrated it to detect traces of naquadah in the area, though its range and sensitivity were limited. All that currently showed were two life-forms side by side – herself and Teal'c – and one prowling back and forth a hundred yards in front of them.
Her attention strayed once more to the source of the movement. Nobody had dared approach Jack O'Neill for a good fifteen minutes, despite the fact he was in charge; most of the officers had been asking questions of Sam instead. Presently, she gave Teal'c a pensive smile and left him to his vigil, abandoning their elevated position in order to descend the slope to the muddy riverbank.
Jack saw her approach and paused. They were out of ear-shot of the soldiers guarding the riverbank with them but he still chose not to say anything, turning to survey the river instead. Sam stepped up beside him.
"Major Davis reports that the boats are in position," she said, following Jack's gaze and making out their water-borne force scattered in the distance.
"Mitchell?" Jack asked. Sam nodded and replied,
"He's on the lead ship ready for the assault. Teal'c's keeping an eye on things from further up the bank."
"And you?" said Jack, regarding her from the corner of his eye.
She looked at him and said, softly, "I'm right here."
He nodded, clearly satisfied, and Sam was amused by how much they had managed to express in so few words. After all they had been through together, it wasn't always necessary to say what they were thinking. He was anxious, but he was still thinking of her; in return, her support of him was unfailing. They exchanged lingering glances full of gratitude. Perhaps they would say more later: but for now this was enough.
Mitchell's disembodied voice interrupted their wordless exchange. "General," he called through the radio, "we have one unidentified contact on the scope. It's comin' in fast."
Sam immediately glanced down at her instruments. "I can confirm that," she told Jack. "There's a distinct naquadah source approaching from downriver."
Jack opened a radio channel of his own. "All units equip with safety gear and stand by."
All the troops on the shore had been ready with oxygen masks hanging around their necks; now they put them on, covering their mouths and noses with the clear plastic. Air was fed through a tube from the filter pack on their belts. Only Jack, Sam and Teal'c remained without safety gear.
Somebody shouted through the radio: "I can see its smoke!"
"Marine units hold position," Jack responded urgently. "Do not manoeuvre until the target is well within the designated area!"
"Estimated arrival – forty seconds," Sam reported.
"Mask," Jack told her; she obediently put it on. He called over his shoulder: "All units, ready!" There was a chorus of clicks as weapons were primed.
"Sir!" Sam said urgently, her voice now muffled slightly by the plastic. She was pointing out over the river. A large figure was emerging from the water, surrounded by plumes of smoke. Finally, Jack gave the order:
"Marine units, move in!"
*
"Move in!" Mitchell called, raising his voice above the ship's engines to make himself heard. He, like everyone else on the boat, was wearing full hazmat gear, but the others heard him thanks to the microphone attached to his earpiece. The captain, an experienced Navy officer, nodded and passed on instructions to his crew; a moment later they were lurching forward, into motion.
Mitchell gazed out of the window of the helm, watching as the smoke unfurled on the water. It was spreading in at least five different directions, pushing towards each of the boats as they dropped their nets and began to close in. Visibility was rapidly declining. They could no longer see the alien; only its smoke, rising to meet their challenge.
*
"Open fire!"
Suddenly the air was crammed with sound, filled by countless bullets fired from dozens of semi-automatics. Although Sam had grown used to such ear-splitting commotion, she was still thankful that their safety gear gave some defence against the sound. Her P90 vibrated with dozens of little kick-backs as she emptied her clip.
"Cease fire!" Jack called.
There was a succession of clicks as soldiers reloaded, then silence.
"Carter?" Jack asked. Sam listened to the voice that had begun to speak through her earpiece.
"Radar reports no movement from their end, sir."
They heard heavy footsteps behind them, and Teal'c's voice said, "It lives."
"Teal'c?" Sam asked, as both she and Jack turned uncertainly towards him. He was staring past them, over their shoulders. Of all the people on the river bank, he alone was without a face mask.
"Sirs!" cried an airman nearby: "The smoke!"
They turned back towards the river, and saw it was almost upon them.
*
Where once the air had been filled with the sound of the ship's engines, now it was filled with the sound of men choking.
The worst part was that it paralysed them, preventing their escape. The suits had provided some protection at first, but simply weren't good enough; the smoke pressed against the material, finding the tiniest of microscopic holes and sifting through the gap.
Mitchell had long since given the order for all personnel to withdraw below deck, but it was only a matter of time before the smoke began to filter into the hold. Holding his breath with fierce determination, Mitchell tried to slow his heart rate so that the oxygen in his lungs would last longer. Through the radio, he heard someone screaming for help, and knew the smoke had begun to attack the other boats.
*
"General!" Sam called urgently, causing Jack's attention to snap away from the thick cloud that was billowing towards them. "I'm getting reports from the boats – sir, the breathing apparatus, it's no good! We have to abort!"
But before Jack could reply, Teal'c darted past them, hurled himself off the edge of the riverbank and plummeted into the water.
"Teal'c!" Jack yelled, before turning back to Sam: "What is he doing?"
"He must be trying to force it ashore. Daniel said it won't survive long out of water."
"He also said it hunts on land! You're right, we gotta evacuate. Give the order, Colonel."
"Yessir." Turning her back on the river, she issued instructions to those who were closest, and they hurried to organise the retreat. Just as she was about to warn everyone else of the evacuation over the radio, a voice she had not been expecting interrupted her
"Sam!" it exclaimed, coming in loud through the earpiece, as though it was shouting.
"Daniel?" Sam asked, casting a confused look around. "Where are you?"
"On the bridge," Daniel replied – and sure enough, when she looked up, she could see him waving frantically. "Sam, listen, you have to get these people out of here – now."
"We know," Sam replied. "It's being done. What are you...?"
There was a crash of water behind her; Sam spun around to see two figures shrouded in smoke, struggling close to the riverbank. Both she and Jack raised their guns instinctively but did not fire: in the thrashing confusion of bodies and water, it was impossible to distinguish between the alien and Teal'c.
Abruptly the two bodies separated, thrust apart by some unseen force. The smoke began to thicken again, but before it obscured the river completely they saw the creature they had previously captured, rising from the depths of the river. It emerged behind Teal'c, and before the Jaffa could turn to defend himself it had flung him clean out of the water. He crashed down in the mud at the foot of the bridge. Sam hurried towards him.
"Everybody get down!" Jack bellowed, producing a grenade from his vest pocket. Sam crouched over Teal'c's motionless body to protect it from the blast, her arms over her head; and then she was deafened by noise. Foul-smelling water sluiced over her as the river surged and dragged her with it from the bank.
End of Part 7.