Stargate SG-1
INTRUSION
by Julia Reynolds
Julia@wrenlea.demon.co.uk
DISCLAIMER:
Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/ Viacom,
MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written
this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has
exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original
characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. Not to
be archived without permission of the author.
CHAPTER ONE
SHOCKWAVE
Into the cold evening air came the brutal sound of an energy weapon
discharging, swiftly followed by a loud raucous cheer. The unmistakable
voices of men engaged in untold savagery. The sound of monsters on the
loose. Of a race lacking the chains of morality or the burden of
compassion.
As the slim pale figure hit the floor, eyes cast skywards, the light
within them banished forever, a silence filled the chamber. There was
no groan of pain, no regrets, just the simple, soundless extinction of
life.
"Want more my little friends, or are you going to tell me what I need to
know?" the harsh voice taunted as another of their kind was dragged
soundlessly into the light and pushed to its knees.
"It is time." The whisper was soft, urgent. Its owner standing within
the shadows, hidden from view.
With eyes lowered, its companion nodded, its face a picture of calm
resignation.
"Yes, I will go," came the sad reply as it turned to leave, turned to
seek out those who could help. Before it was all too late.
oOo
A thick silence smothered the atmosphere of the briefing room, the sound
of the gently whirring tape player breaking the monotony. Only the
light from the flickering screen gave away that there were people
present. Its strange glow illuminating their expressions for a single
moment and then fading, the light dancing across the room. As the
footage unfolded in front of their eyes, a long, exasperated sigh pulled
their attention away. As four sets of eyes glanced in his direction,
the owner of the sigh shifted deliberately in his seat.
Colonel Jack O'Neill was a man who head butted authority with alarming
regularity. A regularity which was the cause of much heated debate in
higher military circles. Tonight, however, had started out to be the
exception to the rule. Called to an emergency briefing at midnight,
he'd taken it on the nose and dragged his tired backside up the stairs
and into the room. Now, with a growing irritation gnawing at his gut,
his patience with his Commanding Officer was starting to wear thin.
He sat at the farthest end of the briefing table and rubbed
energetically at his tired, grit filled eyes. He squinted, peering
closer as the MALP camera scanned the immediate vicinity to the alien
Gate. He shrugged and turned to look at General George Hammond with a
frown. His usual mask of cheerful tolerance a distant crease on his
forehead.
"And this is a view of?" he muttered irritably, finally breaking the
silence, curious as to why he should have been called to an urgent
meeting in the early hours of the morning. Curious as to why it was so
damned important to view this tape, here, right now, before his team
could recover from their last mission.
In fact, Jack O'Neill was feeling pretty pissed about the whole damn
affair and if something real interesting didn't emerge on this tape soon
he wasn't sure he'd be able to remain civilised for long. Commanding
Officer or not, he was getting close to protesting. He only had to
glance at his team to know they were more than dead on their feet.
"Bear with me, Colonel," General George Hammond said, realising that his
best officer was close to losing it with him, but trying to keep as calm
a voice as he could muster. A voice which drawled slowly and patiently.
A voice which exuded calm at the worst of times, and yet tonight the
voice was agitated and even he couldn't mask it. At the same time a
vaguely anxious look passed across his features, his finger holding the
remote control play button down.
Dr Daniel Jackson exchanged a puzzled look with Samantha Carter. His
boyishly handsome features reflecting the worry they were both beginning
to feel. Jack was reacting just as Daniel would expect him to. Tired,
irritable and impatient. The General however was unusually on edge,
despite his pretense at otherwise, and that was a cause for concern.
The Major raised her eyebrows and yawned, then put her hand to her mouth
to stifle another. Her other hand ran firmly through her short blond
hair and pulled it back from her face. They'd been given forty-eight
hours stand down only six short hours ago. Forty-eight hours of
promised rest after a particularly arduous mission to rescue SG-5 from
some back of beyond planet. A planet which had turned out to be
inhabited by pretty near cannibalistic natives. A planet on which
they'd lost two good men and been on their feet, awake and fighting for
some thirty-six hours. She felt tired and she felt irritable. She
empathised with her senior officer and his attitude and wished that in
some way, whatever was on the tape would turn out to be a mistake. She
wanted sleep. Sleep and a warm bed. Not much to ask.
"There!" Hammond almost shouted, shattering the silence and making more
than one nerve twang. He hit the pause button and moved towards the
screen, tapping it hard, then rewinding and pressing play again so that
the scene could unfold. So that they could make no mistake about what
they were witnessing.
Carter found herself jumping down from the table on which she had
perched, and moving towards the screen herself, her eyes mesmerised by
what had appeared in front of the MALP, her tiredness temporarily
forgotten in the surge of adrenalin.
"Oh, my God," mumbled Daniel, pushing his glasses firmly onto the bridge
of his nose. He rose to his feet and joined her.
O'Neill stared at the screen and his brow furrowed even deeper. He ran
his hand briefly through his greying hair.
"Oh for crying out loud," he muttered under his breath and felt his
hands clenching together, his nails biting into the skin beneath, an
anger rising, fresh from within. Now he understood the General's
urgency. Now he wanted to be a part of whatever needed to be done. His
tiredness temporarily banished, O'Neill stared, his mind racing.
"How?" Carter asked hesitantly, as she gazed at the view which the MALP
was obligingly showing her, "It doesn't make any sense," she added
tentatively.
O'Neill moved his hand to his mouth and stared silently. His thoughts
turning over. He didn't answer her. There was no point. He agreed
that it didn't make sense. And yet the evidence was in front of his
eyes. He felt the stable presence of Teal'c move near to his shoulder.
The Jaffa's quiet voice saying what they all felt, all knew inside.
"We must help him, O'Neill."
oOo
Carter cupped her hands together around a hot, welcoming mug of coffee
and sat back on the chair at the briefing table. She waited impatiently
for the caffeine to kick in. How many times had they watched the
recording? She'd lost count. Her mouth felt like the bottom of a
bird's cage and her clothes seemed to be stuck to her. She knew she
needed sleep, lots of it. She also knew that she wasn't going to get
it. Not now. Not having seen the tape. Not having realised that they
would have to go in as soon as possible. They had to help.
"I'm not happy about sanctioning SG-1 going in without some back up,"
Hammond argued hopelessly and patiently, as he sat back in his chair and
put his hands on the desk in a futile gesture of finality. "I'm sorry.
Either you accept a back-up team or you don't go." He knew he was
arguing up against a wall. It was an empty threat and he knew it. So
did they. He knew he had to try. He knew he'd fail. He was right.
"And what? We leave him to the slaughter which could happen if we don't
try to rescue him? Come on, General. You and I both know I'm right,"
O'Neill argued back. He felt tired, drained. The adrenalin rush had
subsided. He was resigned to facing another battle and soon. He
couldn't sit back and watch while some alien species held prisoners and
taunted them with it. One particular prisoner in fact, of a race he
respected, and who respected him. At least he believed that. A race
who were important somehow to their own future, to Earth's future. A
race who figured high in the rescue stakes, whatever the cost.
"Look. If you send a back-up squad with us, they could be killed the
minute we step through that Gate. I don't think some gung ho squad
careering in, watching our butts is an option. They don't have the same
knowledge about the prisoner or frankly, sir, the same history with that
particular prisoner." He continued. "My team is prepared to take a
chance. The others don't have that option. You know it would be a
blood bath if they tried, General. You know it."
"I believe that Colonel O'Neill is correct. They may be expecting you
to send a large rescue force, General Hammond. In fact, they may want
you to. A small group will have the tactical advantage. A larger group
will not." Teal'c fixed his dark eyes on the General as he spoke.
Hammond sighed with frustration. "And what sort of tactical advantage
do you think anyone has?" he said looking from Teal'c to O'Neill.
"Well..oh, hell, General I don't know, damn it. Just give us a chance
and we'll work one out. We haven't failed yet and you know it!" O'Neill
said, his voice rising with passion, his eyes burning fiercely.
Hammond ignored his officer's tone of voice, his impatience. He knew he
was right. This team. This best of all his teams had had their backs
against the wall more times than he cared to remember. This team had
always come through. They were the most passionate, caring bunch of
soldiers he'd ever had the pleasure of commanding, even if Daniel
Jackson didn't really count as a soldier, Hammond sure felt like he was.
SG-1 always had a way of bringing home the goods, against all the odds.
The trouble was the odds were real stacked up against his people this
time and he wasn't sure how they were going to get over them.
"General, are you sure the first signal definitely originated from
there?" Daniel asked quietly, ignoring O'Neill's impatience and
frustration. He had questions of his own.
"Quite sure," Hammond replied, grateful for the interruption and
relieved to be engaged in conversation with a less volatile member of
SG-1.
"Um..just so I can get this straight in my mind..so you sent the MALP in
response to what?" Daniel continued, wanting to get all the facts
straight in his head before he jumped to the same conclusions as Jack,
that there was no alternative other than to go in totally unprepared for
what might greet them.
"A standard Earth distress signal," the General replied, quietly
confident that he had all the answers Jackson would need.
"So, the aliens were able to communicate our standard SOS to elicit the
response they'd hoped for," Daniel surmised, thoughtfully turning it
over in his mind. "Interesting," he added.
"It's possible, Daniel. We've been sending messages out into space for
decades now. They could have picked one of ours up and be using it to
their own advantage," Carter commented.
"Or they could have tortured it out of their prisoner," O'Neill muttered
under his breath.
Carter shot him a look, trying to communicate that they knew what he
needed to do but wanted to get there at their own pace, but he didn't
seem to notice. She could almost taste the impatience about to boil
over.
"It has to be a trap," Daniel concluded, shaking his head. "Why send a
distress signal when you're the ones holding the prisoner? It makes no
sense unless they want us to think it was sent by their captive. Surely
they don't think we're that gullible?"
Carter nodded. "I agree with Daniel, sir. They want us there and they
don't care how they get us there."
"Oh, come on you guys. We know they want to get us there. We know it.
Let's just go in and get the little guy out. What do you say?" O'Neill
said, and looked from one to the other.
Carter knew that look. She also knew what she had to do. She nodded
her agreement, followed swiftly by Daniel. "Count me in," he said and
caught the look of appreciation from O'Neill.
"I concur," said Teal'c quietly.
Hammond rose to his feet. No more debating. He'd known all along, in
his heart, what their reaction would be. He'd called O'Neill and his
team back from stand down because he already knew what was necessary.
He'd already been given his orders, from higher up the chain. From the
highest in fact. The President had been explicit. To let O'Neill take
a team through and attempt a rescue of those who had been taken
prisoner. Hammond was merely playing Devil's advocate and he knew it.
He'd wanted O'Neill to take more people, not just his own four team
members. What he wanted he didn't always get. Not with Jack O'Neill.
"Very well, Colonel. You have authority to take your team through the
Stargate and attempt a rescue." Hammond said and rose from the table.
He felt a sense of relief in one way, but in a thousand others he felt
apprehensive. What were his people going to face when they already knew
it was a hostile environment? They were starting out with the odds
stacked against them.
"Ship out in twelve hours," he said and then looked at Carter and
Daniel, his voice softening. "Major Carter, Dr Jackson, get some sleep
before you do anything else," he advised gently, seeing their dark eyes
as they both looked up at him. They looked like hell. The others
didn't look much better.
Carter nodded and smiled weakly. "Yes, sir," she replied. Hadn't she
wished that some four hours ago? Now she had eight hours maximum to
look forward to, and certainly not at her own place. She'd have to make
do with a quick shower, a bed at the SGC, and a change of gear from her
locker rather than a hot warm bath and a long sleep in her own bed.
Carter sighed inwardly and steeled herself for the inevitable.
Jack O'Neill looked across at the members of his team as Hammond left
the room. This could prove to be their most dangerous mission yet.
They were tired, unprepared and with no information on exactly what they
were letting themselves in for. The enemy could be, in fact probably
were, laying down a trap and here they were walking right into it. They
had little in the way of choices, and little time to formulate a plan.
Daniel was rubbing his eyes ruefully, his short brown hair looking
uncombed and unruly, a stubble shadowing his chin. Always the
idealistic member of the team, the archaeologist would be desperate to
attempt the rescue. O'Neill knew that. He also knew that he'd be right
there looking at his surroundings, the architecture if there was any,
and trying to analyse the people they met. O'Neill allowed himself an
ironic smile.
Carter rose from the table. "I need to get some rest," she said and
lifted the briefing pad on which she'd scribbled a few notes.
O'Neill waved a solitary hand, excusing her, and watched her leave the
room, the dark circles around her eyes telling him the whole story about
how she felt. The tall, attractive, blond scientist would be moving
hypotheses over in her mind as she walked, he knew that. He also knew
that she'd got them out of trouble more times than he cared to admit.
If things got tough out there, Sam Carter would be right there in the
thick of it, and right there with an answer if they needed one.
Daniel rose and muttered similar words about needing some sleep or
dying. O'Neill smiled at the exaggeration and rose too. As Daniel left
the room, O'Neill stopped to look at Teal'c. The Jaffa's face was a
picture of composure. He looked fresh and untroubled by the lack of
sleep.
"This will not be easy, O'Neill," Teal'c said quietly. As usual his
understatement was of no surprise to the Colonel.
"You don't say," O'Neill quipped back and then added quietly "I know,
Teal'c, I know." O'Neill sat down again, but heavily, and placed his
hands on the large table in front of him.
It seemed like the rest of the SGC were asleep. Hell, maybe the world
was asleep. The place was hauntingly quiet. O'Neill had a vague memory
of walking the floor with his own son when he was a small baby. Of
staring out into the night sky and feeling like he was the only one
awake, pacing with a screaming, teething infant. The memory pulled at
some well-used heart strings and he swallowed them back quickly. He
had no time for them right now. They'd have to wait. Regret was a
useless emotion, rating right down there with guilt. O'Neill knew both
intimately.
A dull glow from two lamps in either corner, was casting shadows across
the floor, lending the whole atmosphere a sombre effect. Pretty much
how O'Neill felt at that moment, as it happened.
"Okay, so what's your take on all this, Teal'c?" he asked, reaching
across and pouring himself a fresh mug of coffee from the already
cooling pot in the middle of the table. For a change O'Neill had
dropped the sarcasm. He was serious. He needed Teal'c's thoughts on
what they were about to face. He needed his experience and his calmness
right now.
"As you do, O'Neill, I believe it to be a trap," Teal'c replied quietly,
his face registering no emotion.
"Yeah, well.." O'Neill said, squinting his eyes as he did when he didn't
know where to look. He nodded slightly. He knew it was probably a
trap. In his heart he knew. That didn't stop him from wanting to go in
there and beat the crap out of the aliens he'd seen on the MALP camera.
The aliens he'd seen holding a member of the most peaceful bunch of
people they'd met so far in their travels.
The fear on the face of Nafrayu, was all he, Jack O'Neill, needed to
see. He'd seen enough. The Nox were peace loving, damn it. O'Neill
had difficulty in getting his mind around what he'd seen. About why a
small boy was being held by a race of aliens he'd never encountered
before, on a planet which they'd never visited.
"It doesn't make sense, Teal'c" he said and met his eyes. Eyes which
registered an empathy with what O'Neill was feeling. An empathy which
O'Neill hadn't seen there before, at least not so obviously.
He continued. "I mean, why haven't the Nox summoned help from the
Asgard and they could have just gone in there and removed the aliens for
them? And what the hell are any of the Nox doing there in the first
place? Why didn't Lya or one of the others just make the aliens
disappear? They seemed able to do it on their own world, and damn it,
their gate was supposed to be inaccessible." O'Neill shook his head
with frustration, a hundred questions tumbling chaotically through his
mind, trying to find answers and failing.
"I have a theory," Teal'c said and put his head on one side. O'Neill
took this to mean did he want to hear Teal'c's theory.
"Shoot," he said.
"I have no weapon," Teal'c replied, looking puzzled.
"Damn it, Teal'c, it's an expression, that's all," O'Neill said with a
small degree of exasperation. "I just meant, give me your theory." A
part of him usually found Teal'c's innocent reaction to strange sayings
funny, but somehow any humour was gone from the room this night.
Teal'c nodded his understanding. "I believe that these aliens are
working for the Goa'uld to lure you, O'Neill, to their world."
"What, me in particular or any old human?" O'Neill asked, somewhat taken
aback by this bold statement.
"I believe that they want SG-1 and that you as the leader is important
to them," Teal'c replied.
"And you believe this because..?" O'Neill said quizzically.
"These aliens hold captive, a members of a race which could pose a
potential threat to the Goa'uld. The Nox are a race which so far, the
Goa'uld have been unable to overcome. They are allied with the Asgard.
These aliens may possess other members of the Nox. It is also strange
that they have chosen Nafrayu, a child who is known to us and to you,
O'Neill. Does this not seem odd to you?"
O'Neill nodded. He had to agree that the coincidence was alarmingly
convenient. His heart sank at what he heard next.
Teal'c continued, his voice calm but certain.
"The System Lords would risk certain war with the Asgard if they were
seen to have captured one of their allies, a member of the Nox, who are
peaceful. I do not believe that they would risk carrying this out
themselves. However, their hatred for you, the humans, the Tau'ri,
has become an overriding obsession. You have hurt them, O'Neill. They
harbour a burning desire for revenge. However, at present their treaty
with you, overseen by the Asgard, must stand. By involving another
alien race they deflect the blame onto them and away from themselves.
They will not be seen to break the treaty.
I believe that they will do anything to trap your team and take them
prisoner. SG-1 symbolises the defeat which your race has inflicted on
several of their own. Our deaths would be seen as a victory. Their
possession of the boy is the lure, O'Neill."
"Oh that's wonderful. So we're about to hand them their revenge on a
damn plate," said O'Neill, his mind racing, turning over what Teal'c had
told him. "Sweet," he muttered to himself.
Teal'c raised his eyebrow.
"Still doesn't explain how in Hell they came to get hold of the Nox in
the first place, and why they or the Asgard haven't retaliated," O'Neill
said, his thoughts a jumbled incoherent mess of hypotheses, plans and
down and out fears.
"We do not know of these aliens. We do not know the power which they
possess," Teal'c advised quietly. "Perhaps the Nox and even the Asgard
are in fear of them," he added.
"Not on your life," said O'Neill with feeling. "The Nox don't need to
fear anyone, and hell, the Asgard seem pretty able to take care of
themselves. Well okay, they had a little run in with a bunch of
spiders, but hey who's counting."
"I agree that it is unlikely," said Teal'c unconvincingly. "But the
evidence of Nafrayu's capture is there nonetheless, O'Neill."
O'Neill rose from the table and started for the door. "I gotta think
this one through, Teal'c," he said as he walked. "Somehow we've got to
get through the Gate in one piece. Maybe take some extra firepower, that
sort of thing. That's got to be our first priority."
"O'Neill," Teal'c said before the Colonel could open the door.
O'Neill turned, his eyes quizzical.
"I have been reading about your Earth legends. Its mythology. Daniel
Jackson has been instructing me so that I may better understand the
System Lords and how they assumed the role of your Gods."
"Well, that's great Teal'c," said O'Neill, confused at what this could
possibly have to do with the current predicament. "I hope you've
learned something."
"I have," the Jaffa replied quietly and then continued. "Was it not
during a great battle that an enemy invaded another's dwelling by
sending a false gift?" he asked.
O'Neill's mind raced, recalling his ancient history. He nodded. "The
Trojans did," he said moving back towards the table, and then hit his
hand down hard in front of him. Teal'c didn't flinch.
"Of course," he said enthusiastically, "Teal'c, I could kiss you," he
added and a broad grin spread across his face.
Teal'c put his head on one side and raised both eyebrows.
"Okay, okay, I won't, but a Trojan Horse, of course. It might just work
here," he said and sat back down in his chair, pulling a large pad of
paper from across the table and starting to sketch.
He looked up momentarily. "I hope you didn't want to get any sleep," he
said and then looked down at his drawing.
"I did not," Teal'c replied, a glint of a smile crossing his face and
burning in his eyes.
To be continued....
INTRUSION
by Julia Reynolds
Julia@wrenlea.demon.co.uk
DISCLAIMER:
Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/ Viacom,
MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written
this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has
exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original
characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. Not to
be archived without permission of the author.
CHAPTER ONE
SHOCKWAVE
Into the cold evening air came the brutal sound of an energy weapon
discharging, swiftly followed by a loud raucous cheer. The unmistakable
voices of men engaged in untold savagery. The sound of monsters on the
loose. Of a race lacking the chains of morality or the burden of
compassion.
As the slim pale figure hit the floor, eyes cast skywards, the light
within them banished forever, a silence filled the chamber. There was
no groan of pain, no regrets, just the simple, soundless extinction of
life.
"Want more my little friends, or are you going to tell me what I need to
know?" the harsh voice taunted as another of their kind was dragged
soundlessly into the light and pushed to its knees.
"It is time." The whisper was soft, urgent. Its owner standing within
the shadows, hidden from view.
With eyes lowered, its companion nodded, its face a picture of calm
resignation.
"Yes, I will go," came the sad reply as it turned to leave, turned to
seek out those who could help. Before it was all too late.
oOo
A thick silence smothered the atmosphere of the briefing room, the sound
of the gently whirring tape player breaking the monotony. Only the
light from the flickering screen gave away that there were people
present. Its strange glow illuminating their expressions for a single
moment and then fading, the light dancing across the room. As the
footage unfolded in front of their eyes, a long, exasperated sigh pulled
their attention away. As four sets of eyes glanced in his direction,
the owner of the sigh shifted deliberately in his seat.
Colonel Jack O'Neill was a man who head butted authority with alarming
regularity. A regularity which was the cause of much heated debate in
higher military circles. Tonight, however, had started out to be the
exception to the rule. Called to an emergency briefing at midnight,
he'd taken it on the nose and dragged his tired backside up the stairs
and into the room. Now, with a growing irritation gnawing at his gut,
his patience with his Commanding Officer was starting to wear thin.
He sat at the farthest end of the briefing table and rubbed
energetically at his tired, grit filled eyes. He squinted, peering
closer as the MALP camera scanned the immediate vicinity to the alien
Gate. He shrugged and turned to look at General George Hammond with a
frown. His usual mask of cheerful tolerance a distant crease on his
forehead.
"And this is a view of?" he muttered irritably, finally breaking the
silence, curious as to why he should have been called to an urgent
meeting in the early hours of the morning. Curious as to why it was so
damned important to view this tape, here, right now, before his team
could recover from their last mission.
In fact, Jack O'Neill was feeling pretty pissed about the whole damn
affair and if something real interesting didn't emerge on this tape soon
he wasn't sure he'd be able to remain civilised for long. Commanding
Officer or not, he was getting close to protesting. He only had to
glance at his team to know they were more than dead on their feet.
"Bear with me, Colonel," General George Hammond said, realising that his
best officer was close to losing it with him, but trying to keep as calm
a voice as he could muster. A voice which drawled slowly and patiently.
A voice which exuded calm at the worst of times, and yet tonight the
voice was agitated and even he couldn't mask it. At the same time a
vaguely anxious look passed across his features, his finger holding the
remote control play button down.
Dr Daniel Jackson exchanged a puzzled look with Samantha Carter. His
boyishly handsome features reflecting the worry they were both beginning
to feel. Jack was reacting just as Daniel would expect him to. Tired,
irritable and impatient. The General however was unusually on edge,
despite his pretense at otherwise, and that was a cause for concern.
The Major raised her eyebrows and yawned, then put her hand to her mouth
to stifle another. Her other hand ran firmly through her short blond
hair and pulled it back from her face. They'd been given forty-eight
hours stand down only six short hours ago. Forty-eight hours of
promised rest after a particularly arduous mission to rescue SG-5 from
some back of beyond planet. A planet which had turned out to be
inhabited by pretty near cannibalistic natives. A planet on which
they'd lost two good men and been on their feet, awake and fighting for
some thirty-six hours. She felt tired and she felt irritable. She
empathised with her senior officer and his attitude and wished that in
some way, whatever was on the tape would turn out to be a mistake. She
wanted sleep. Sleep and a warm bed. Not much to ask.
"There!" Hammond almost shouted, shattering the silence and making more
than one nerve twang. He hit the pause button and moved towards the
screen, tapping it hard, then rewinding and pressing play again so that
the scene could unfold. So that they could make no mistake about what
they were witnessing.
Carter found herself jumping down from the table on which she had
perched, and moving towards the screen herself, her eyes mesmerised by
what had appeared in front of the MALP, her tiredness temporarily
forgotten in the surge of adrenalin.
"Oh, my God," mumbled Daniel, pushing his glasses firmly onto the bridge
of his nose. He rose to his feet and joined her.
O'Neill stared at the screen and his brow furrowed even deeper. He ran
his hand briefly through his greying hair.
"Oh for crying out loud," he muttered under his breath and felt his
hands clenching together, his nails biting into the skin beneath, an
anger rising, fresh from within. Now he understood the General's
urgency. Now he wanted to be a part of whatever needed to be done. His
tiredness temporarily banished, O'Neill stared, his mind racing.
"How?" Carter asked hesitantly, as she gazed at the view which the MALP
was obligingly showing her, "It doesn't make any sense," she added
tentatively.
O'Neill moved his hand to his mouth and stared silently. His thoughts
turning over. He didn't answer her. There was no point. He agreed
that it didn't make sense. And yet the evidence was in front of his
eyes. He felt the stable presence of Teal'c move near to his shoulder.
The Jaffa's quiet voice saying what they all felt, all knew inside.
"We must help him, O'Neill."
oOo
Carter cupped her hands together around a hot, welcoming mug of coffee
and sat back on the chair at the briefing table. She waited impatiently
for the caffeine to kick in. How many times had they watched the
recording? She'd lost count. Her mouth felt like the bottom of a
bird's cage and her clothes seemed to be stuck to her. She knew she
needed sleep, lots of it. She also knew that she wasn't going to get
it. Not now. Not having seen the tape. Not having realised that they
would have to go in as soon as possible. They had to help.
"I'm not happy about sanctioning SG-1 going in without some back up,"
Hammond argued hopelessly and patiently, as he sat back in his chair and
put his hands on the desk in a futile gesture of finality. "I'm sorry.
Either you accept a back-up team or you don't go." He knew he was
arguing up against a wall. It was an empty threat and he knew it. So
did they. He knew he had to try. He knew he'd fail. He was right.
"And what? We leave him to the slaughter which could happen if we don't
try to rescue him? Come on, General. You and I both know I'm right,"
O'Neill argued back. He felt tired, drained. The adrenalin rush had
subsided. He was resigned to facing another battle and soon. He
couldn't sit back and watch while some alien species held prisoners and
taunted them with it. One particular prisoner in fact, of a race he
respected, and who respected him. At least he believed that. A race
who were important somehow to their own future, to Earth's future. A
race who figured high in the rescue stakes, whatever the cost.
"Look. If you send a back-up squad with us, they could be killed the
minute we step through that Gate. I don't think some gung ho squad
careering in, watching our butts is an option. They don't have the same
knowledge about the prisoner or frankly, sir, the same history with that
particular prisoner." He continued. "My team is prepared to take a
chance. The others don't have that option. You know it would be a
blood bath if they tried, General. You know it."
"I believe that Colonel O'Neill is correct. They may be expecting you
to send a large rescue force, General Hammond. In fact, they may want
you to. A small group will have the tactical advantage. A larger group
will not." Teal'c fixed his dark eyes on the General as he spoke.
Hammond sighed with frustration. "And what sort of tactical advantage
do you think anyone has?" he said looking from Teal'c to O'Neill.
"Well..oh, hell, General I don't know, damn it. Just give us a chance
and we'll work one out. We haven't failed yet and you know it!" O'Neill
said, his voice rising with passion, his eyes burning fiercely.
Hammond ignored his officer's tone of voice, his impatience. He knew he
was right. This team. This best of all his teams had had their backs
against the wall more times than he cared to remember. This team had
always come through. They were the most passionate, caring bunch of
soldiers he'd ever had the pleasure of commanding, even if Daniel
Jackson didn't really count as a soldier, Hammond sure felt like he was.
SG-1 always had a way of bringing home the goods, against all the odds.
The trouble was the odds were real stacked up against his people this
time and he wasn't sure how they were going to get over them.
"General, are you sure the first signal definitely originated from
there?" Daniel asked quietly, ignoring O'Neill's impatience and
frustration. He had questions of his own.
"Quite sure," Hammond replied, grateful for the interruption and
relieved to be engaged in conversation with a less volatile member of
SG-1.
"Um..just so I can get this straight in my mind..so you sent the MALP in
response to what?" Daniel continued, wanting to get all the facts
straight in his head before he jumped to the same conclusions as Jack,
that there was no alternative other than to go in totally unprepared for
what might greet them.
"A standard Earth distress signal," the General replied, quietly
confident that he had all the answers Jackson would need.
"So, the aliens were able to communicate our standard SOS to elicit the
response they'd hoped for," Daniel surmised, thoughtfully turning it
over in his mind. "Interesting," he added.
"It's possible, Daniel. We've been sending messages out into space for
decades now. They could have picked one of ours up and be using it to
their own advantage," Carter commented.
"Or they could have tortured it out of their prisoner," O'Neill muttered
under his breath.
Carter shot him a look, trying to communicate that they knew what he
needed to do but wanted to get there at their own pace, but he didn't
seem to notice. She could almost taste the impatience about to boil
over.
"It has to be a trap," Daniel concluded, shaking his head. "Why send a
distress signal when you're the ones holding the prisoner? It makes no
sense unless they want us to think it was sent by their captive. Surely
they don't think we're that gullible?"
Carter nodded. "I agree with Daniel, sir. They want us there and they
don't care how they get us there."
"Oh, come on you guys. We know they want to get us there. We know it.
Let's just go in and get the little guy out. What do you say?" O'Neill
said, and looked from one to the other.
Carter knew that look. She also knew what she had to do. She nodded
her agreement, followed swiftly by Daniel. "Count me in," he said and
caught the look of appreciation from O'Neill.
"I concur," said Teal'c quietly.
Hammond rose to his feet. No more debating. He'd known all along, in
his heart, what their reaction would be. He'd called O'Neill and his
team back from stand down because he already knew what was necessary.
He'd already been given his orders, from higher up the chain. From the
highest in fact. The President had been explicit. To let O'Neill take
a team through and attempt a rescue of those who had been taken
prisoner. Hammond was merely playing Devil's advocate and he knew it.
He'd wanted O'Neill to take more people, not just his own four team
members. What he wanted he didn't always get. Not with Jack O'Neill.
"Very well, Colonel. You have authority to take your team through the
Stargate and attempt a rescue." Hammond said and rose from the table.
He felt a sense of relief in one way, but in a thousand others he felt
apprehensive. What were his people going to face when they already knew
it was a hostile environment? They were starting out with the odds
stacked against them.
"Ship out in twelve hours," he said and then looked at Carter and
Daniel, his voice softening. "Major Carter, Dr Jackson, get some sleep
before you do anything else," he advised gently, seeing their dark eyes
as they both looked up at him. They looked like hell. The others
didn't look much better.
Carter nodded and smiled weakly. "Yes, sir," she replied. Hadn't she
wished that some four hours ago? Now she had eight hours maximum to
look forward to, and certainly not at her own place. She'd have to make
do with a quick shower, a bed at the SGC, and a change of gear from her
locker rather than a hot warm bath and a long sleep in her own bed.
Carter sighed inwardly and steeled herself for the inevitable.
Jack O'Neill looked across at the members of his team as Hammond left
the room. This could prove to be their most dangerous mission yet.
They were tired, unprepared and with no information on exactly what they
were letting themselves in for. The enemy could be, in fact probably
were, laying down a trap and here they were walking right into it. They
had little in the way of choices, and little time to formulate a plan.
Daniel was rubbing his eyes ruefully, his short brown hair looking
uncombed and unruly, a stubble shadowing his chin. Always the
idealistic member of the team, the archaeologist would be desperate to
attempt the rescue. O'Neill knew that. He also knew that he'd be right
there looking at his surroundings, the architecture if there was any,
and trying to analyse the people they met. O'Neill allowed himself an
ironic smile.
Carter rose from the table. "I need to get some rest," she said and
lifted the briefing pad on which she'd scribbled a few notes.
O'Neill waved a solitary hand, excusing her, and watched her leave the
room, the dark circles around her eyes telling him the whole story about
how she felt. The tall, attractive, blond scientist would be moving
hypotheses over in her mind as she walked, he knew that. He also knew
that she'd got them out of trouble more times than he cared to admit.
If things got tough out there, Sam Carter would be right there in the
thick of it, and right there with an answer if they needed one.
Daniel rose and muttered similar words about needing some sleep or
dying. O'Neill smiled at the exaggeration and rose too. As Daniel left
the room, O'Neill stopped to look at Teal'c. The Jaffa's face was a
picture of composure. He looked fresh and untroubled by the lack of
sleep.
"This will not be easy, O'Neill," Teal'c said quietly. As usual his
understatement was of no surprise to the Colonel.
"You don't say," O'Neill quipped back and then added quietly "I know,
Teal'c, I know." O'Neill sat down again, but heavily, and placed his
hands on the large table in front of him.
It seemed like the rest of the SGC were asleep. Hell, maybe the world
was asleep. The place was hauntingly quiet. O'Neill had a vague memory
of walking the floor with his own son when he was a small baby. Of
staring out into the night sky and feeling like he was the only one
awake, pacing with a screaming, teething infant. The memory pulled at
some well-used heart strings and he swallowed them back quickly. He
had no time for them right now. They'd have to wait. Regret was a
useless emotion, rating right down there with guilt. O'Neill knew both
intimately.
A dull glow from two lamps in either corner, was casting shadows across
the floor, lending the whole atmosphere a sombre effect. Pretty much
how O'Neill felt at that moment, as it happened.
"Okay, so what's your take on all this, Teal'c?" he asked, reaching
across and pouring himself a fresh mug of coffee from the already
cooling pot in the middle of the table. For a change O'Neill had
dropped the sarcasm. He was serious. He needed Teal'c's thoughts on
what they were about to face. He needed his experience and his calmness
right now.
"As you do, O'Neill, I believe it to be a trap," Teal'c replied quietly,
his face registering no emotion.
"Yeah, well.." O'Neill said, squinting his eyes as he did when he didn't
know where to look. He nodded slightly. He knew it was probably a
trap. In his heart he knew. That didn't stop him from wanting to go in
there and beat the crap out of the aliens he'd seen on the MALP camera.
The aliens he'd seen holding a member of the most peaceful bunch of
people they'd met so far in their travels.
The fear on the face of Nafrayu, was all he, Jack O'Neill, needed to
see. He'd seen enough. The Nox were peace loving, damn it. O'Neill
had difficulty in getting his mind around what he'd seen. About why a
small boy was being held by a race of aliens he'd never encountered
before, on a planet which they'd never visited.
"It doesn't make sense, Teal'c" he said and met his eyes. Eyes which
registered an empathy with what O'Neill was feeling. An empathy which
O'Neill hadn't seen there before, at least not so obviously.
He continued. "I mean, why haven't the Nox summoned help from the
Asgard and they could have just gone in there and removed the aliens for
them? And what the hell are any of the Nox doing there in the first
place? Why didn't Lya or one of the others just make the aliens
disappear? They seemed able to do it on their own world, and damn it,
their gate was supposed to be inaccessible." O'Neill shook his head
with frustration, a hundred questions tumbling chaotically through his
mind, trying to find answers and failing.
"I have a theory," Teal'c said and put his head on one side. O'Neill
took this to mean did he want to hear Teal'c's theory.
"Shoot," he said.
"I have no weapon," Teal'c replied, looking puzzled.
"Damn it, Teal'c, it's an expression, that's all," O'Neill said with a
small degree of exasperation. "I just meant, give me your theory." A
part of him usually found Teal'c's innocent reaction to strange sayings
funny, but somehow any humour was gone from the room this night.
Teal'c nodded his understanding. "I believe that these aliens are
working for the Goa'uld to lure you, O'Neill, to their world."
"What, me in particular or any old human?" O'Neill asked, somewhat taken
aback by this bold statement.
"I believe that they want SG-1 and that you as the leader is important
to them," Teal'c replied.
"And you believe this because..?" O'Neill said quizzically.
"These aliens hold captive, a members of a race which could pose a
potential threat to the Goa'uld. The Nox are a race which so far, the
Goa'uld have been unable to overcome. They are allied with the Asgard.
These aliens may possess other members of the Nox. It is also strange
that they have chosen Nafrayu, a child who is known to us and to you,
O'Neill. Does this not seem odd to you?"
O'Neill nodded. He had to agree that the coincidence was alarmingly
convenient. His heart sank at what he heard next.
Teal'c continued, his voice calm but certain.
"The System Lords would risk certain war with the Asgard if they were
seen to have captured one of their allies, a member of the Nox, who are
peaceful. I do not believe that they would risk carrying this out
themselves. However, their hatred for you, the humans, the Tau'ri,
has become an overriding obsession. You have hurt them, O'Neill. They
harbour a burning desire for revenge. However, at present their treaty
with you, overseen by the Asgard, must stand. By involving another
alien race they deflect the blame onto them and away from themselves.
They will not be seen to break the treaty.
I believe that they will do anything to trap your team and take them
prisoner. SG-1 symbolises the defeat which your race has inflicted on
several of their own. Our deaths would be seen as a victory. Their
possession of the boy is the lure, O'Neill."
"Oh that's wonderful. So we're about to hand them their revenge on a
damn plate," said O'Neill, his mind racing, turning over what Teal'c had
told him. "Sweet," he muttered to himself.
Teal'c raised his eyebrow.
"Still doesn't explain how in Hell they came to get hold of the Nox in
the first place, and why they or the Asgard haven't retaliated," O'Neill
said, his thoughts a jumbled incoherent mess of hypotheses, plans and
down and out fears.
"We do not know of these aliens. We do not know the power which they
possess," Teal'c advised quietly. "Perhaps the Nox and even the Asgard
are in fear of them," he added.
"Not on your life," said O'Neill with feeling. "The Nox don't need to
fear anyone, and hell, the Asgard seem pretty able to take care of
themselves. Well okay, they had a little run in with a bunch of
spiders, but hey who's counting."
"I agree that it is unlikely," said Teal'c unconvincingly. "But the
evidence of Nafrayu's capture is there nonetheless, O'Neill."
O'Neill rose from the table and started for the door. "I gotta think
this one through, Teal'c," he said as he walked. "Somehow we've got to
get through the Gate in one piece. Maybe take some extra firepower, that
sort of thing. That's got to be our first priority."
"O'Neill," Teal'c said before the Colonel could open the door.
O'Neill turned, his eyes quizzical.
"I have been reading about your Earth legends. Its mythology. Daniel
Jackson has been instructing me so that I may better understand the
System Lords and how they assumed the role of your Gods."
"Well, that's great Teal'c," said O'Neill, confused at what this could
possibly have to do with the current predicament. "I hope you've
learned something."
"I have," the Jaffa replied quietly and then continued. "Was it not
during a great battle that an enemy invaded another's dwelling by
sending a false gift?" he asked.
O'Neill's mind raced, recalling his ancient history. He nodded. "The
Trojans did," he said moving back towards the table, and then hit his
hand down hard in front of him. Teal'c didn't flinch.
"Of course," he said enthusiastically, "Teal'c, I could kiss you," he
added and a broad grin spread across his face.
Teal'c put his head on one side and raised both eyebrows.
"Okay, okay, I won't, but a Trojan Horse, of course. It might just work
here," he said and sat back down in his chair, pulling a large pad of
paper from across the table and starting to sketch.
He looked up momentarily. "I hope you didn't want to get any sleep," he
said and then looked down at his drawing.
"I did not," Teal'c replied, a glint of a smile crossing his face and
burning in his eyes.
To be continued....