Chapter XII

"Orici," Vesuvius entered her chambers. "A missile has been sent up from Earth."

"They think to blow us up? Shoot it down," Adria ordered. As if there was any other course of action. Sometimes the Priors' utter dependency on her direction was puerile.

"I do not think it was meant to hit us. Its propulsion has stopped, and it is in a low orbit beneath us."

Her eyes narrowed. A message? She had planned to make first contact, but it appeared the humans were very eager to speak with her. "Check it for explosives and those anti-Prior devices, and then bring it onboard," she said. She waited in her quarters while her warriors carried out her orders, overseeing Tomin's teaching session. When Vesuvius informed her that the object was waiting for her on the bridge, she sent Tomin away and left Vala to continue on her own. Without knowing exactly what form this message might come in—or if it was a message at all—she did not dare open it in Vala's presence lest it try to somehow help her escape, or even report back to Earth on her condition. Adria liked being the one who held the cards, and there was no way she was going to show her hand so early in the process of converting Earth.

Upon her arrival at the helm, the Orici immediately noticed the black box placed on the floor. There was a small rectangular object lying next to it, with a piece of yellow paper sticky on one end that said: Press here! Small nubs decorated the device in rows, and the one the note was pointing to was at the top left.

She gingerly pressed the button, raising one hand filled with the beginnings of a fireball as the screen flared to life and the device began to emit sound. The grainy image moved of its own accord, a man and a woman seated in armchairs talking to one another. "Yeah, no, I can't believe it'll be five years this year," the man said, as if answering her question. He had very short-cropped hair and the fuzzy beginnings of a beard going all the way around his face. "Nathan, Alan, and Morena were just at my house for dinner and we were reminiscing on all the jokes we had on set and it just kind of hit us." Adria cocked her head at the device, hitting another button on what she now presumed was the remote. The voices disappeared, although the man's lips still moved. She hit it again, and the sound was back.

A different button caused the image to change entirely. "—is not intended for use with antidepressants. Common side effects include rash, fever, nausea, and dizziness, and may occur hours or days after taking—"

Click. The roaring of a crowd filled the room as bulky men lined up on a verdant field surrounded by spectators. All of a sudden they rushed at each other, tackling and brawling in a manner that reminded Adria of scuffles between giant brown bears on the planet Akinth. Humans from Earth thought themselves civilized, when they went at each other like brutes over some small brown object. It must have been made of gold or filled with precious jewels to be worth fighting over like that.

Click. A cucumber with eyes, a nose, and a mouth stared back at her, frozen on the screen wearing a dark jacket. "And now it's time for Silly Songs with Larry, the part of the show where Larry comes out and sings a silly song," said a voice.

"...pizza angel, please come to me...tomato sauce and cheese so gooey..." sang the cucumber, hopping around a table. He lifted things without arms. How disturbing.

Click. "Adria?" She nearly jumped at the sound of her name coming from the device, barely managing to maintain her composure. A man in his late fifties peered at her from onscreen. He wore a dark blue suit with stars on the shoulders. "Good, you got our present. Dr. Lee said he could take that functionality out, but I said, 'What the heck?' Are you enjoying the television channels?"

"Who are you?" Adria demanded.

"Major General Jack O'Neill of the United States Air Force and Head of Homeworld Security," he introduced himself.

"General O'Neill," Adria smiled. "I have heard of you on several of the planets I have visited."

"All good things, I hope," O'Neill replied, with a touch of sarcasm. "Here, I have someone here with me that you might recognize." The image angle tilted upwards, revealing Colonel Mitchell and another man standing on either side of O'Neill looking over his shoulder.

"Adria," Mitchell said.

"This is Carl Strom, head of the IOA," O'Neill continued, gesturing to his left. The man said nothing, looking rather like he'd been forced into silence by the general and was currently biting his tongue as hard as he could.

She hoped it bled. "I assume you're here to make a demand, General?" Adria asked.

"It's more of a threat," the IOA man burst out. "Get out of our solar system, or we'll be forced to destroy you and your ships."

One look from O'Neill shut him down even as Adria raised an eyebrow. "You cannot think to threaten me with your primitive weapons, O'Neill."

"Look, let's start small," O'Neill said. "No one's threatening anybody yet. I want to talk to our people, the ones you took prisoner. Carter, Daniel, Teal'c, Vala. Are they all right?"

"They are...enduring," the Orici told him. "I will...consider...it."

"All right," O'Neill agreed. "And Adria, this isn't a threat, but if you attack Earth, we will defend ourselves."

"It's your move," Mitchell told her. She hit another button and the device shut off.

"Yes," Adria smiled. "Yes, it is."

This was an interesting turn of events to say the least, she reflected as she turned away from the device. She honestly hadn't expected the people of Earth to make the first move… Cower, perhaps, but this was bold. And foolish. It showed their hand, their weaknesses. Carl Strom, head of something called the IOA—Adria had little interest as to what the IOA might be, but he obviously hadn't been completely in agreement with General O'Neill throughout that conversation. The people of Earth weren't even trying to present a unified front against her army.

It was...rather pathetic, really. And it only served to further the Orici's cause more, providing more proof that the dispersion of leadership roles in government among many and allowing such diversity of thought and ideology as Earth was detrimental to their stability as a society. Too long, it appeared, had Earth been separated from the rest of the galaxy through ignorance and the lack of a functioning Stargate. They had grown complacent with their own protection.

The Orici had no qualms taking full advantage of that.

Adria spun around, leaving the bridge and making her way to the ring platform that would take her down to Daniel. Her prisoner looked up as she entered, fear quickly masked by a an expression of indifference. "Oh, goody, you're back," Daniel greeted her. "I gave that list you wanted to one of the guards."

"I received it," Adria replied evenly. "We have yet to see how accurate it may turn out to be."

"How's Vala?" Daniel asked.

Adria allowed to her lips to curl upward ever so slightly. "She is recovering. But that will change if you don't tell me everything I want to know."

"I want to see her."

Adria's smile widened. "No." Daniel glared at her. "I wish to speak to the people of Earth, but never before have we converted a planet with such a large population as seven billion."

"You could write a book," Daniel suggested.

"And the common masses on your planet could read such a thing?" Adria questioned, eyes narrowed. Of course in the Ori galaxy most everyone could read—they had to read the Book of Origin, after all—but she and the Priors had quickly found that this was not the case on most planets in the Milky Way.

"Oh, yes," Daniel told her. "Reading's a huge pastime on Earth. Everybody reads. We can't get enough of books." His falsehood stuck out to her like a sore thumb and Adria's eyes flashed.

"I do not believe you," she hissed. "Besides, books must be printed and bound. There must be a more efficient means. What of the device you call a 'television channels'?"

"Uh…" Daniel frowned. "How do you know about that?"

"Your General O'Neill sent one as a means of communication with me," Adria revealed, regarding the information of little importance. Perhaps mention of SG-1's previous leader would throw Daniel off enough to say more about this device than he normally would.

"First, it's a television," Daniel corrected. "It's an appliance people on Earth watch for entertainment."

"How does it work?"

"I don't really know," he replied. She raised an eyebrow. "I don't! Not the technicalities. For some of them—and I'm guessing the one you have—companies broadcast signals that go up to satellites orbiting Earth, and the satellites send the signal back down to each. The signal is interpreted as images and sound."

"And how many people have such a device?"

He shrugged helplessly. "Most, in the developed countries anyway." Adria smiled. She had found a way to get her message out, but hijacking the signal between these television systems seemed unappealing to Adria. Colonel Carter could be convinced to help, but Adria did not particularly want to run the risk of having the woman near any sort of technology with which she might attempt to escape or sabotage Adria's ship.

But perhaps there was another way Carter could be of use to the Orici.

"We'll speak again soon, Daniel," she said, turning and walking out of his cell.

"Could you ask Jack to send me a TV too?" he called after her. Adria merely made the door slam shut with a clang behind her in response. She headed back up to her chambers to check on Vala, as it was almost time for Tomin to return for their session and she disliked leaving her mother unsupervised beyond Feríca for long lengths of time.

Upon entering her chambers a surge of dissatisfaction immediately flowed through her that had nothing to do with the sight that greeted her. Vala was seated on the bed with one hand chained and one flipping the pages of the Book of Origin, looking bored—as usual—and Feríca was tidying up a bit of dirt tracked in by Tomin as he had come in to have his lessons with Vala. No, her dissatisfaction had nothing to do with her mother's begrudging progress through her indoctrination or the fact that Adria would be admonishing a certain Ori warrior later for being negligent in the upkeep and polishing of his boots. It was Daniel, despite his providing of some relatively useful information today. His spirit had not yet broken, and that bothered her. In her past experiences with the men—or women, on occasion—she had captured, they had all cowered before her within three days time...usually less. It disturbed her how different these people were. They did not have a legacy of slavery under Goa'uld rule on their home planet, and their backs were thus unused to bending.

Normally Adria would have relished the challenge, given of course her eventual inevitable triumph in the battle of wills. Now, however...with her entire quest hanging in the balance, she wished Earth was just another world she could sweep away like the dust beneath her feet.

She watched Feríca for another moment, who had bowed at her entrance and then continued her task, before turning to Vala. Adria gracefully took a seat on the edge of the bed, and her mother spared a single glance at her before returning her gaze to the pages of the Book. "You are making progress, Mother. You are almost a fourth of the way through it."

"Well, I've got nothing else to do but sit around and twiddle my thumbs," Vala answered with a brief flash of white teeth at her own dark humor. She leaned down again to concentrate on the Book, ebony curls falling to cover most of her face again.

"Mother, are you all right?" Adria asked, a frown creasing her brow. Vala was acting strangely, but beyond that Adria could not describe it. "Speak to me; is there something wrong?" Reaching out to move her mother's hair out of her face, Adria almost missed the flash of Vala's movement.

Almost.

But that split second of realization did nothing to stop Vala's knife from slipping between her ribs.


I apologize for the cliffhanger and give you my sincerest promise to try and update faster than last time to relieve you of it.