Chapter 10 - Motion

P4A-121
Madrelan Quon'yl
May 8, 2001

A holographic representation of Madrelan Quon'yl dominated the space above the briefing table, its blue hues casting a ghostly tinge on the thick, concrete beams that supported the underground chamber.

"This computer's analysis shows that the Aschen converted this planet into a frozen wasteland several thousand cycles ago as a deterrent for visitors. By using technology that manipulated gravitational pulls of its two moons, they were able to rotate the planet's poles in order to yield a complete climatic change within a period of hundred cycles. The surface as you know, is covered entirely by thick, frozen ice, but under the planet's crust there exists a molten metallic core, a small percentage of which is made up of unstable deposits of Naquadria and Cuperlon. This abnormality in the planet's core is going to play a vital role in our mission."

Rapt interest made Jack unconsciously lean forward as he intently listened to Ferdan's exposition of the planet's structure. Even as a participant who stood at the fringes of this operation, it was difficult not to marvel at the amount of research and planning that had gone into it.

By his side, Hedin shifted and murmured, "If this takes you by surprise, you'll soon come to realise that this group will never stop surprising you. Not with how much they can do with so little. "

Jack merely gave a small nod in reply. Hedin's words had struck a less-than pleasant chord, an untimely reminder of the other half of SG-1 that he'd left back in Colorado Springs.

They'd once been that. And more.

Formidable enough to be considered a threat by the System Lords, indefatigable in the numerous times they'd saved the world. Yet all it had taken was a manipulative race to shatter those bonds to dust and prove that the incorruptibility of SG-1 was more myth than reality.

Jack blinked the stray thoughts away and forced his eyes back to the screen.

Ferdan's light touch on the holograph dissolved the image and brought up a magnified version of the third vent that cracked the planet's surface.

"The presence of these elements has added a measure of instability to the surface crust, subsequently causing fissures to open up steam vents in these three places, the most important of them being the large vent that runs deep down across the north complex of the Aschen facility. If you look at this particular section of the vent," he paused and enlarged the surface area of the planet once again, "you will notice that there is great pressure that has been placed on it because of the steady increase and expansion of gases. A sudden release of this pressure will cause the crust to rupture at this particular point, thereby pulling the entire facility into its molten core."

Quiet murmurs filled the room. Yet Ferdan patiently waited for those had turned to each other and were conversing in hushed tones.

"What is going to be the trigger for the venting of pressure?"

A question echoed from the back of the chamber and reached the front of the room as a disembodied entity that Jack strained to pick up. Yet Ferdan and Hedin seemed to have no trouble hearing, he noted with some surprise. Had that been a by-product of their-

Hedin's reply scattered Jack's musings. "An overload of negative Cuperlon particles will force this element to react with Naquadria, causing an expansion of a newly-formed compound which will then rapidly rise to the surface. But only an Aschen computer can provide an efficient and rapid delivery system to bring about this result."

Ferdan continued from where Hedin left off. "Kynal and Sorel will be accessing the Aschen computer systems from the north complex at two hours before sunrise tomorrow. Once the Cuperlon particles are introduced to the vent, crust rupture will occur in approximately thirty minutes. The Dalbar'ash's southern, northern and eastern network of tunnels will be obliterated by the explosion. Only the western network that lies the greatest distance from the blast radius will remain unaffected. We have already relocated all of our people onto a portion of the surface that is an independent sector of the planet's crust, except for those who have chosen to be part of this operation."

"How will you escape in time?" Another voice called out from the back.

A meaningful pause settled over the room as Jack watched Ferdan and his most trusted advisors silently exchange a look.

"We will not."

The sudden roar of protest was deafening, quieting down only after Ferdan held up a hand.

The pained regret in his voice was obvious to all. "The Aschen guards will kill us even if the explosion does not. This is the only guarantee of a new life away from Aschen dominance."

"Okay, that's a bad plan," Jack cut in immediately, ignoring the attention he was getting from the entire room. "Look, at least try to increase the chances of your survival so that you can actually lead your flock to greener pastures. What good would it do if you toss the Aschen out on their asses and not reap the fruits of your labour?"

"Have you thought of something else?"

"Then give us a better idea."

All over, variations of the question were yelled out.

Jack thought on his feet, wondering if the half-baked plan he'd started formulating during the briefing would actually work. SG-1 had always escaped by the skin of their teeth even when the odds were overwhelmingly against them. Not that he tempted – or even believed in – fate, but why wouldn't things work out?

"It'll work," he argued, "if there aren't too many of you involved in this. One or two of you will take care of the explosion, another two can come with me to get my team and we'll go through the Stargate together and take several hops to cover our tracks until we reach Earth."

"Is there more to this plan?" Ferdan asked evenly.

"There is a chance that the explosion will bury the portal."

Kynal spoke for the first time, the disbelief in her voice obvious to all. "You want us to settle on Earth? And abandon our people?"

Jack shook his head, ignoring the rest of the questions for now. "It'll only be temporary," he told her. "We have many addresses of other planets far from the Aschen worlds where you can settle. Trust me, we've done this before for folks who have lost their homes. We can and will relocate your people to another friendly planet, only that this time you'll have a home with beaches and blue skies. We also have allies who can help. Just sayin', you know. And whether the gate explodes or not, the question is, are you willing to take that risk, no matter how big it is?"

This time, brief silence descended following his pronouncement, the collective murmurs among the resistance members growing in volume. From beside him, he heard Hedin's sudden, soft intake of breath.

"We never knew that the portal went to other places other than the Aschen-controlled worlds," Sorel murmured in awe.

To his surprise, Jack found himself looking into tear-filled blue eyes as Kynal turned to him. "Could you really do that? Take us somewhere else?"

In a flash, understanding dawned. In his haste, he'd come up with something he assumed was simply a way of minimising the number of fatalities in this short, intense strike. He knew that the people needed their leaders; his offer of relocation was merely an intention of keeping the flock close to their shepherds.

Inadvertently, he realised that he'd given them something more than a logistical solution.

Hope. He'd given them hope.

But as it had always been in his life, hope was a dangerous thing. It led to outcomes that were almost never in his favour and often left him in a worse place than before he'd even dared to hope.

Yet only god knew how much these people needed something beyond this hell.

Jack held Kynal's solemn gaze with uncharacteristic seriousness.

"Yeah sure, you betcha'."

P3A-194
Volia
May 9, 2001

"SG-3 will form a perimeter around the gate for a period of three hours until you check back in with us. This will be extended to a maximum of another two hours if necessary."

"Thanks, Sir," Sam said to Albert Reynolds and turned to the archaeologist who was already scanning the horizon with his binoculars. "Let's go, Daniel."

They walked the edge of a yellow field, keeping their eyes on the distant tree line as their strides quickly ate up the distance.

Daniel was first to break the contemplative silence that had befallen them. "Never thought that anything could go wrong with the Aschen."

The resignation in his voice halted her perusal of the landscape and made her determined strides falter.

Her reply was a long time in coming, knowing what she was about to say was the closest she'd come to admitting this aloud to someone else. "You're not the only one, Daniel. Only the Colonel had his doubts and we pushed him aside because someone else offered a solution that now looks too good to be true."

Daniel had stopped beside her, his own voice troubled. "It's a question I keep asking myself, Sam. Have we really been that naïve? Why are we so quick to trust a superior race promising improvement for all humankind and so slow to trust those with whom we served?"

"I don't know, Daniel," Sam said a bit too sharply, causing Daniel to pin her with an assessing stare. Ignoring his pointed gaze, she continued, "Maybe it is because they offered an easy way out for the world's problems. Because in the four years since we've started this, we're seeing no end to a war with an alien race that has dominated much of this galaxy for eons."

And, a part of her whispered softly, because she had been so caught up with the Ambassador's attentions that it had made it easier for her to overlook just what the Colonel had been saying about the Aschen, despite his fervent, eloquent arguments of which she normally would have taken heed. Sam bit her lip, willing that particular, unspoken insight away. At the very least, she was willing to admit that the Colonel had much to do with her apparent inability to form meaningful relationships. And if she were perfectly honest, it was the unconscious, lingering hope of him – of them – that had made her pull back from a perfectly eligible man like Joe.

"I know I badly wanted things to change." Daniel's musings pulled her out of her troubled, wayward thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I wanted to see a better, brighter future for Earth," he clarified pointedly. "And I don't think I'm too wrong in saying that most of us wanted the same thing."

She caught on quickly. Right. That.

Her returning smile was wry and ironic. But as much as they could go in circles rationalising their fears and expectations, this was neither the time nor the place for hard soul-searching.

Sam hefted her P-90 more securely in her hand as she resumed walking, trying to keep a wary eye on a seemingly peaceful agricultural landscape. "Look, Daniel, we don't have time for this right now."

Daniel nodded his acquiescence, started behind her, then stopped again. "Sam, there's a farmer in the distance."

She craned her neck to see a man who was hunched over a metal protrusion of sorts a few metres away.

"Let's go."

After introducing himself as Keel, the farmer had immediately ushered them to his modest home where they sat nursing cups of a tea-like infusion grown from the red bushes that lined his small garden.

Sam took her tentative first sip of the purple liquid. "Thanks for bringing us here, Keel."

The man was still dressed in the heavy clothing that he wore to the fields, watching with satisfaction as Daniel downed the contents of his own cup.

"It is never a problem. We seldom have visitors coming this way," Keel shrugged, smiling. "So everyone who comes to Volia always gets invited to our houses. I just happen to see the visitors first because my dwelling is closest to the portal."

"How many are there of your kind on this world?" Daniel asked.

"We're scattered all over the place and because we've got large farms, it's hard to keep count," the farmer replied. Then giving into his curiosity, he asked, "What's your business here anyhow? To trade with us? The Aschen ha-"

"Actually, not really," Daniel hastily said, then amended, "well, not yet at least. In fact, we're just recently acquainted with the Aschen and would like to know more about their place in your lives."

Keel was more than happy to talk. "They've been friends to us since I remember. I'm an orphan but was raised by an Aschen family. They give us medicine and machines freely, providing abundant light and heat for our homes."

"Really? So, they've never been…unreasonable with your people in any way?"

Daniel's deliberate choice of words gave Keel pause. "They just float around in their harvesters mostly, what few of them there are. But they're not always here. We're left alone most of the time until the harvest rolls around and we need their help. So if you want to meet them-"

"We don't have to, Keel," Sam put in quickly. "We're just interested in visiting the scenic worlds of the Aschen Confederation."

"They are beautiful worlds, Samantha," Keel agreed wholeheartedly. "But there is nothing like home. And I've been here all my life. The fields, the sun, the sky. I will never tire of these sights."

Sam stole a quick glance at her watch and saw that they'd spent nearly a half hour far from where they wanted to be. She made a move to get up, seeing Daniel mimicking her movements from the corner of her eye. "Anyway, I'm afraid our time's up here. But thank you for everything."

"Not a problem. My only regret is that you aren't going to stay any longer," Keel said, then looked as though he remembered something he'd forgotten to add. "Oh, the next you see and speak to an Aschen, tell him I've got an iron root in my south field. I can't dig it out myself. Need one of their machines."

Sam and Daniel exchanged glances.

"Maybe we can help," Daniel offered after a beat.

"Actually, you passed it on the way here. It's in the way of my planting."

"We'll try our best," Sam reassured him.

Keel looked grateful. "I'll bring you there."

The visible portion of the protrusion was akin to the top half of an iceberg, the remainder of the girder going much deeper into the ground than Daniel had expected. He removed his worn, miniature set of archaeological tools, knelt on the dry mud and started to dig. Sam got on her knees next to him, helping to shovel dirt out of the way.

"We're going to need some time, Keel."

To their relief, the farmer was already starting to head in another direction, content to leave them to their own devices. "There's a jug of my best sweet water in it for you if you manage."

"Got it," Daniel grunted his exhaustion, pushing the sand and rust deposits as much as he could to one side. "It took a load of effort but I've loosened the rocks and sediment that have been causing the iron girder to-" He broke off abruptly, staring into the small gap created by the small rock fall. "Uh, what's that?"

She peered into the hole they'd created, then straightened back up. "Looks like a cave. And it goes deep. Deeper than we think. And the iron girder leads all the way down."

Daniel didn't need to think. "I'm going down."

"Me too. I'll be right behind you."

After sending a quick message to Reynolds about their unexpected find in the fields, she followed him down, her hands tightly gripping the rusted metal structure that had become flimsy in parts.

Her feet touched hard ground a minute later, her torch already in hand and switched on.

The shaft of light from the surface illuminated the cavernous space that was littered with what resembled industrial detritus. Several rusted steel bars similar to the one they just climbed down were tilted precariously to one side, while others had collapsed into the rubble.

The realisation came to her after a few seconds. The bars weren't just iron girders; they seemed to be part of the major scaffolding of a collapsed building. In fact, the scaffolding pierced the ground, going even deeper from where they stood.

"Looks like an abandoned city," Sam commented, dusting the remnants of the reddish-brown Volian soil off her BDUs. "Or one that just fell into ruins." Then she signalled Daniel to look at the structures. "It seems as though we're only standing on the highest buried layer."

Daniel frowned, circling each one carefully, then squatted to take a closer look.

"It's not impossible," he finally said, his soft reply sounding harsh in the dusty silence. "Heinrich Schliemann found the ruins of not just one city, but the remains of eleven cities, each one built on the ruins of the earlier settlements in his search for the lost city of Troy. The same thing could have happened here." Then he stood up gingerly, casting another glance around him. "The level of technology appears to be similar to early twentieth-century Earth. I'd say circa 1910."

"War? Natural disasters?" She guessed.

"Barring natural disaster, it generally takes the forces of nature several centuries to bury a city. This place looks like it was just ploughed over recently."

"Volia today is agrarian. Maybe the city was buried or abandoned so that farmland could be created."

Daniel was already shaking his head. "It makes no sense. Why would they return to agriculture after all the economic and cultural progress the Volian civilisation had made? The only reason – and a farfetched one at that – that I could possibly think of is that the Volians could have had their version of a Luddite movement. There's something else strange here, Sam. Look around you. There are no human remains. The question is, why?"

"That's what we're going to find out, Daniel." Sam was starting to pick her way through the fallen columns and the partially-crushed scaffolding. "There's something else ahead."

A sweep of her torch lit a path up to a circular, ornate entrance framed by thick, broken columns.

"This looks like it may have been a public building of some sort. I'm going to go inside and take a look around."

The door that stood at the top of the stairs opened easily with a creak and a puff of thick dust when Daniel leaned his entire body weight against it. He stumbled into the darkness, barely missing a pile of loose rocks that had fallen near the entrance.

"Rocks, rocks and more rocks," Daniel muttered the O'Neill-ism to himself, wandering the edges of an uncluttered area, not liking the creaks that the ceiling seemed to be making. Then he called out to Sam, "I think this place used to be an archiving office or a public library."

Sam's voice floated through to him from a distance, sharp and loud. "Daniel, the building's unstable. By opening the door, you've displaced some rocks that have been holding up its foundations. Get out of there!"

What was it that he'd just seen? "Just a minute, Sam."

He cast a frenzied look around, his gaze finally coming to rest on a pile of…tubes that lay undisturbed in the corner, just an inch beyond his reach.

"Now, Daniel!"

Her warning didn't register; instead, he found himself gingerly crawling towards the cardboard tubes, reaching just a bit beyond-

"Daniel!"

The ominous creak became the start of a rumble. A small rock came loose from the ceiling just as he grabbed all the tubes that his arms could carry.

A second, small rock fell on the side of his boot. The third piece of disintegrating concrete bounced off his shoulder. The fourth and fifth followed, until the slight, bouncing noises became a cackling stream of loose rock.

Shit. That was too close. "Got it!"

His triumphant yell was lost in the rockfall.

Daniel had barely managed to fling himself out of the entrance and down the steps just as the rocks came down in a steady flow. A rough hand yanked him up by his collar as he scrambled to his feet and ran like hell back to the space where they'd started.

"Let's not try that again, shall we?" The reproach in her voice was obvious as he tried to catch his breath. She was looking cautiously around, apparently satisfied that this particular part of the cavern was still sufficiently stable.

Daniel shot Sam a brief, contrite look and walked to the nearest slab of rock to examine the cardboard cylinders. From their openings, he pulled out several pieces of yellowed paper and spread them as evenly as he could.

Curiosity overtook annoyance as she came to stand next to him. "What have you got?"

Not answering yet, he examined the sheaves carefully. Fragile sheets of papers printed in the layout of a news journal, pictures paginated neatly underneath bold headlines in an old serif font. All of which had faded badly.

"Okay, if I'm right, these are newspapers."

"The pictures and text are too faint to make out," Sam said, then grimaced in worry when another faint rumble echoed in the distance. "Daniel, we should continue this on the surface. After that rock slide, I can't speak for the structural integrity of this place even though it seems stable for now."

"Sam, I know, but we can't." They didn't have a choice, did they? They had to take the risk here, in a disintegrating archaeological find, where they were ironically safer than on the surface where Aschen presence was unavoidable.

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah," he affirmed. "If these scrolls don't serve our purposes, we're going to have to take another look around in order to be more thorough in our search. And if the Aschen really do have something to hide, I don't think we're going to get a second chance," Daniel insisted, already rummaging through the rest of the cardboard tubes and sorting them by the legibility of their typefaces. "I'll make it quick. You could help me. We're looking for the big headlines first."

She held up a sheet that had the clearest printing. "Look at this one."

Daniel muttered the headlines aloud, letting the sounds of the words sink in.

"The language seems to be similar to an ancient Celtic text I found in Wales. I should be able to make some of this out. Okay, it says something about pandemic, some sort of – I can't translate that – maybe fever. Now, assuming the Aschen are the newcomers in this article, they provided – can't translate that word either – a sort of vaccine. And the Volian people were immensely grateful for it."

"So there's the implication that the Aschen had helped them," Sam pointed out, still uncertain where this was all going.

"Actually, all it proves is that the city was abandoned sometime after they made contact with the Aschen," he objected. "Cities are usually abandoned when civilisations fall. Why would the Volian civilisation crumble after meeting them? What had happened in between?"

"Perhaps the Volians relocated somewhere else within the Aschen Confederation and Keel is merely a resettler here," she told him bluntly, then added, "As far-fetched as this sounds, I'm going to have to play devil's advocate for a while, Daniel as much as I don't like this. We've got to be absolutely sure."

"Keel said he'd never been anywhere else."

"And how long had the city been abandoned for Keel to have lived this way all his life?"

Daniel changed tack. "Don't you get the feeling that we're somewhere close, but not quite finding anything?"

She nodded wordlessly, the ensuing silence standing between them like a monument to their growing uncertainty.

It was broken only by a loud rumble reverberating through the cavern, effectively snapping them out of the moment.

"That's our sign. "No arguments this time, Daniel."

Daniel nodded, hurriedly stood and packed. "You aren't getting any from me there. I'm going to bring these things back and hopefully get a better handle on the language so it'll give us more insight into Volian history."

They made it to the surface just as the inner chamber walls of the public building caved in, the dust plume rising up the small channel and dissipating into the gentle breeze that caressed the Volian fields. The iron girder that annoyed Keel had merely been wedged deeper into the hard surface of the ground and now lay more horizontal than it did before.

There was no one to be seen, which certainly worked to their advantage, Sam thought as the familiar blue puddle sprang to life.

"Okay Daniel, dial us home. I'm going to radio SG-3 right now."

The Volian farmer wasn't around; he would know instantly from the iron structure protruding from the ground that it hadn't been removed. And upsetting him with their sudden disappearance, unfortunately, was also the least of her worries. He'd get by.

Earth, unfortunately, might not.