The pocket of subspace that Sam passed through to travel between China and the SGC had been a study in impossible events combined with the sheer immutable fact that she had participated in their execution. One could not breathe in space. One could not walk through a pocked of subspace.
Once could not do any one of a thousand things that were now simple facts of reality for her. It would probably take longer than she had the luxury of living in her lifetime to fully document and understand the combination of phenomenon required to explain what had happened to her.
Entire disciplines of theoretical physics and biology could have been devoted to the mass to volume shifts required for the dragons to shift between human form and their dragon shapes. Were they just reshaping their bodies from some malleable materials or were they, as she suspected, restructuring subspace matter to fill and contain the mass not required at any given moment? These were the questions that would keep her busy for years to come.
The universe was full of unanswered and unanswerable questions. One could only take the information provided to them and do their best to answer them empirically based off the evidence provided. For example, Sam knew empirically that the leader of the dragons was able to manipulate the minds and bodies of people proximate to the sound of his voice.
Did he achieve this through telepathy? Telekinesis? Was it manipulation of air pressure? She wouldn't be able to know the exact methods used to achieve it without further study – anything she provided wouldn't be a functionally useful hypothesis unless she had the ability to study it and eliminate faulty suppositions.
The simple reality of these new creatures defied any current understanding she could provide for their interactions with physics and biology as she understood them, which in turn meant that her understanding of both physics and biology would have to adapt to the new reality. For example, she would have to adapt to the reality that the weapons she had available to her were woefully inadequate to resolve her current situation.
Samantha Carter reflexively placed her hand on the Zat weapon on her belt more out of habit than out of any belief that the weapon would be of any use against the elder Dragon. Her last experience in even trying to fight the man effectively proved her inability to defeat him, but the habits she'd been inculcated into weren't rooted in logic and she found the cool alien metal beneath her fingers to be comforting as the besuited man's apoplectic rage rose the temperature of the room around them.
The scions were quite literally quaking in their boots as they dropped to the ground, pressing their bellies to the floor and trying to make themselves as small and non-threatening as possible. They slid back with inhuman grace, crawling up the walls like geckoes – lizard eyes quivering with fear. Even the First Nameless had been reduced to a quivering cretin in the presence of the man's horrific spite.
"Have we met?" Queried Colonel O'Neill. "Because I'm generally accustomed to remembering people who've killed me. It tends to leave an impression."
"I have slain thee time and time again." The man seemed to grow with every word, the roiling serpentine body concealed beneath his human flesh seemingly at the verge of just ripping through the flesh-mask concealing his true form. "As a man, as a prophet, as a warrior, and even as one of the Knights Three – You are such an affront to the orderly procession that The Six of Moros became Seven to prohibit your infernal meddling in the involatility of entropy."
"Gee, you're going to make me blush – and I don't even know what to call you." Replied the Colonel. "Is your name Michael? You seem like a Michael?"
"Ah, the humor. I do always enjoy these moments of mirth." Replied the man. "They provide a nice distraction from the sheer monotony of your interference in my work. You cross between time and reality without a care, shredding causality without fear of paradox."
"I know thee better than any child or lover, Fisherman. We have been enemies since before your birth, trapped in a war that you scarcely even begin to understand. You are an affront to the orderly procession of reality, a violation of my purpose."
"Come on – that was one time." Protested the Colonel. "And we came back without changing too much. We went out of our way not to meddle with 1969."
"Your early meddling was not your only meddling. In this or any other existence." Snarled Ferrovax before something occurred to him. "We… it can't be. Can it?"
He blinked for a second before his head whipped around to Daniel, examining him with new interest. He hissed in something bordering horror as he looked to each of the human member of SG-1 in turn. "The Scholar… unascended? Then she must be the Architect!"
"Oh, oh!" Sam exclaimed in shock as the elder dragon's frustrations became apparent to her. "You're angry because of stuff that we – or a version of us – did to you in the past?"
"Past, present, and undoubtedly future." Growled the man.
"We're a fun bunch." Jibed the Colonel.
"I have finally found you before you've had the chance to ripen." His rumbling laughter could have curdled milk, so sour was it in its vitriol as he looked skyward. "Do you heart that meddler! I have found your puppets before your plans could come to fruition! I wonder – If I remove the pieces in the present will the misfortunes of the past be purged as quickly as they were brought down upon me and mine!"
"But… couldn't you just interacting in the present divert us from that happening?" Sam blinked in surprise. "And wouldn't stopping it risk paradox?"
"Paradox is an over-rated threat for the Immortal." Ferrovax grinned wolfishly. "And the only things that erasing you from history would bring me is joy."
Teal'c interposed himself between the Colonel and the man. "Lord Ferrovax, you are a guest come to bargain."
"I came to deliver terms Jaffa, and I am no longer bound by any Threshold to bar my vengeance upon any in my path. And my terms are the unconditional surrender and death of those who've wronged me." His grin was positively demonic as his serrated teeth protruded from his lips as he commanded. "Stop," as he had done before on the ship.
Once again Sam found herself entirely unable to move, or even breathe without difficulty. Confusingly, O'Neill appeared entirely unaffected. He stared around the room at the frozen men and women, backing away from Ferrovax as he raised his knife protectively. Sam noted that he was backing towards Mayborne and the NID mercenaries – putting the other Colonel's men in the line of fire rather than anyone in the SGC.
"Strong willed as always, Fisherman." The man rumbled with glee. "But you are finally at an end. Vengance will be – "
"Mine!" Shouted a little girl's voice as the child Sam had saved from the Goa'uld cargo ship shoved herself in front of the besuited man. She was obviously terrified, as terrified as any of the other scions were of the man, but she was standing resolutely between Jack and her patriarch with a determined look on her face. She pointed to each of the humans in the room in turn, repeating the word over and over again, "Mine, mine, mine, mine…" on and one she went, going through them all before pointing at the stargate and then to the ground, as though she were laying claim to the mountain itself before pointing at the draconic patriarch. "Not yours."
The nameless scions chittered excitedly in the draconic language, jabbering like basso budgerigars. "It is not done." Murmured the voice of the First Nameless behind her. "Such things are not done."
The man raised his hand as though to slap her only for Colonel O'Neill to shove himself in front of her and grab the other man by the wrist. His eyes were steel as he looked at the dragon patriarch. "You don't touch the kid."
Ferrovax was no more physically limited by the Colonel's grip than he might have been by a fly, but there was something about the physical act of O'Neill's grasp that froze him in place. He sniffed the Colonel twice before his lip curled back in disgust as he turned to the child, "You have claimed allegiance to him and pledged to protect his territory."
"Yes." She replied softly. "No other path."
"You were my heir apparent – your paths were endless." Replied the man.
"There is no place in the stars for one who cannot fly." Spoke the little girl.
"You are a Dragon – no injury can lame you." Dismissed the man as he flung O'Neill to the ground. "Show me."
The girl turned around, pulling up her shirt to expose the injuries to her back. The man placed his palm gently upon her, his paw roiling and reverting to a lizard like state as it glowed with orange flames. He illuminated the scars, making them glow with purple vitriol as he examined the scars.
"Who did this?" The man's voice was suddenly without rage or malice. It was as though he'd entirely forgotten about his purported vendetta with the Colonel. The little girl shook her head, as though too afraid to speak.
So entirely distracted was Ferrovax that his hold over the other humans and Teal'c was dropped and Sam found herself able to move again. She ran over to Colonel O'Neill, helping her superior officer back to his feet with the aid of Doctor Jackson.
"Are you alright, Sir?" She asked, wincing at the bruises already forming where the man landed on his arm.
"Just peachy." Replied the Colonel. "I had him just where I wanted him."
"Hopefully caring for his granddaughter is enough of a distraction that he stops trying to murder us." Daniel provided.
"He doesn't strike me as the paternal type." Replied the Colonel. "Or the forgiving sort."
"I'm with the Doctor." Interjected Colonel Mayborne. "I don't have anything that can hurt that guy with us. And as much as I like seeing Jack taken down a peg, I don't like the optics of him being killed while I'm here to save him."
"Worried about your FITREP Mayborne?" Colonel O'Neill jibed. "It's a while yet till you're up for General, and it hasn't started snowing in hell yet."
"It's at least a bit frosty down there, Jack." Replied Colonel Mayborne. "You called me for help, after all."
"Turns out that I had things under control." Replied the Colonel.
"Clearly." Replied Mayborne as the Dragon's insistent voice echoed with the tone of command once again.
"Is there a particular reason that we're not shooting him?" Queried the man who appeared to be leading Mayborne's mercenaries. "Because I very much want to shoot him."
"You want to waste the ammunition, be my guest. Teal'c and two SG teams put enough bullets in him to take out Vietnam and didn't even damage his suit." Replied Mayborne. "I'm inclined to see if Doctor Jackson can talk this situation down. He's done more with less."
"I have no idea what the cultural grounding of the Dragons is to know how to make this better." Disagreed Daniel. "They seem to be entirely focused on the idea of naming rituals. So if she maybe did something worthy of earning a name she might be able to request our safety… but I don't know enough about what "worthiness" constitutes to even begin to suggest that."
"She has a name." Replied Jack.
"No, Jack, the Scions were pretty explicit that she was nameless." Replied Daniel. "Naming ceremonies are such a big deal that they actually have an appointed position whose sole duty is to decide when someone has earned a name."
"That's great, but she has a name." The Colonel Shrugged. "I got tired to saying 'hey you.' Emily sounded good to her, so we went with that."
"Jack… tell me you didn't." Daniel cringed.
"She was a little girl, not a puppy. I wasn't going to just talk about her in the third person forever." Jack shook his head. "She needed a name."
"TELL ME." The man spoke again in the imperative, his will so present that it was a physical weight upon Sam even though it wasn't being directed at her. If she had known even an inkling of what brought the injuries upon the little girl she wouldn't have been able to keep that secret within her. She would have screamed it from the mountain tops.
The girl screeched her answer, words spilling from her in the Draconic language like water. She chittered and hissed without any ability to stop, presumably telling him every secret she had to offer. The man listened to every word before murmuring vengefully, "Heka has betrayed his pact. He uses weapons of the fall against us."
He pulled back his hand from the wound, as though afraid to touch it, his draconic eyes simmering with alien emotion as he purred in a sound that reminded Sam of stone being ground into sand. When he spoke again it was a confused declarative. "She will never fly."
The Scions grew silent, seemingly too horrified by the prospect to even gossip. The man shook his head disappointedly. "Siriothrax's child, nameless forever – a true blood cast aside."
"Not nameless." Replied the little girl firmly.
"What?" The man growled the interrogative as though it were invective.
"A named one has chosen. One who is known and worthy." Replied the little girl. "Emily Bowen Draco! I fought. I claimed. I won."
"Who would dare name the Blood?" Replied Ferrovax contemptuously. "Who would be so bold?"
"Me apparently." Replied O'Neill exhaustedly. "I wasn't going to just keep calling her kid."
"O'Neill." The man shook with apoplectic hatred.
"He is known. He is worthy." Replied Emily firmly. "A name was given. A place claimed. It is my right."
"A name is given by a name earned in infamy." Agreed the elder dragon. "And like the one who provided it to you, are worthy in infamy alone."
"But I am worthy." Asserted the child firmly. "I will never fly, but I am worthy."
"You know the price of what you do?" Queried the elder dragon. "And take it freely?"
"I do." Replied the little girl calmly.
"Very well then, Emily Bowen Draco. You are named and worthy." Replied the elder dragon as he bend down and kissed her softly on the forehead. "May your name live on forever."
And then – before Sam even had the chance to scream out a warning - the man's mangled hand whipped to life, forming into a horrible claw as he used it to slit the little girl from her belly to her throat, spilling her organs to the ground in front of her as he shoved her to the ground. "You die with a name child – take solace in that."
Sam scrambled across the room, firing her Zat fruitlessly at the man in an vain attempt to save the kid. She felt like the room was moving in slow motion as she took in the soldiers, marines, airmen, and Teal'c all firing their weapons impotently into the man as he towered over the mangled child. They all knew that their weapons weren't going to do anything more than irritate the man, but they weren't going to just allow him to kill an unarmed child in front of them.
He raised his hand again to strike the killing blow only for his hand to fall to the ground, sliced off at the wrist as a brilliant light filled the room – emanating from a formless shadow-person.
"Nyet! That will be quite enough of that, da?"
The shadow from Ferovaxe's body leapt up, the boiling absence of light coalescing into a huge man's form wielding a cavalry sabre. As though summoned by the very act of cruelty against a child, the Russian man who'd assaulted her in the medical wing was suddenly – inexplicably – standing between the injured child and Ferrovax, grinning with wild abandon as his body flared with sliver light cloaking the appearance of a second, smaller, shadow figure that melted into the Tok'ra that came on base with Heka's retinue.
"Knight!" Hissed the collective of scions.
"Dragons." Replied the massive Russian. "Now, how about you fuck off back to the Nevernever before I chop you into tiny pieces."