Chapter Five -
[Author's note: Wow! Thanks everyone for your feedback. : ) It pulled this story off the back burner for me. I was almost ready to remove it and re-write it. I really appreciate that you took the time to read and comment. As always, thanks to Pettygrew for advice, guidance and encouragement.]
Two days after the bomb had been sent through to P8T-119, Jack found himself haunting a new office. This time, instead of being surrounded with carvings, stellae, weapons and books and books and books, he was surrounded by bags of soils, rocks, odd little mechanical implements… and books and books and books.
He pulled an old looking book off the shelf absently. It was a "History of the Earth" type of textbook, printed in the 1800s. A piece of paper stuck up from between the pages. Jack flipped it open and unfolded the paper.
Auntie Em,
Thought you'd like this. This book claims that the Earth is essentially one big raisin, and the mountains are wrinkles being created as it shrinks. Double dare you to source this in your thesis.
D.
Jack grinned. He didn't think he could ever recall hearing Daniel use the words 'double dare'. He could see the archaeologist finding the books in old stacks in the back of a used book store, chuckling away at his acquisitions. He folded the note up and put it and the book back on the shelf.
He traced a finger down the uneven spines on the shelf and then turned back to Emma's desk. While Emma had only returned to the field teams a few months ago, she had been working with the SGC for almost three years. Her office definitely had a 'well-lived-in' look. This was certainly the only office with a broom in the corner. Jack scuffed his toes on the tile floor, scraping a fine layer of soil aside. One of the few offices that needed a broom in the corner.
A book on the end of the couch caught his eye. It was Emma's scrapbook. She'd had it with her on P3X-888, one of her few personal items to keep her distracted on a three month mission. A mission that was abruptly aborted. Still, it was good to know that she had gotten the book back.
Jack's lips set in a straight line as he considered something. He flipped open the pages until he got to the large black and white one of Daniel taken after their misadventures with Machello's little toys. Harris, in the act of kidnapping Emma, had stepped on the photograph. Jack grunted softly and nodded. Of course she had replaced the photo. The original had been carefully removed and a reprint inserted. Jack could see the faint traces of mud on the paper, the curled and wrinkled texture showing where it had been lovingly dampened and cleaned.
He flipped through the pages, his face twisting slightly at some of the older pictures… Daniel's slow recovery from his near miss in the padded cell, the death of Sha're and the half a dozen soul-crushing weights that had fallen on his shoulders that year. What was the saying…? Death of a thousand cuts? Small wounds weren't enough to kill, but get enough of them and…
He shook his head. Daniel hadn't died then. He'd changed, yes, but they more or less got him back. Jack flipped through the pages, watching Daniel pull himself back from the edge, seeing that smile appear more and more often. He stopped at a picture that must have been taken by Chaka… or one of the other SG teams sent to help Emma out on P3X-888. Daniel was sitting by a fire with an MRE in his hands. Emma was leaning behind him, arms wrapped around his chest, chin on his shoulder. They were cheek to cheek, smiling, the firelight glinting off their glasses. Jack's jaw clenched. They both looked… content.
Clearing his throat, he looked from side to side, like a sneakthief, before using his fingernail to pry the picture out from the glued paper corners holding it to the page. If he had to admit they were gone, then this is how he would want to think of them. He tucked the picture into his breast pocket and turned to leave.
"I miss them as well, O'Neill."
Jack leapt three feet in the air and jumped back behind the desk, clutching his hand to his heart. "God… Teal'c." He slumped down, sitting on the edge of Emma's desk. Had it not been for his black ops training, he would have been on the ceiling, holding on with his claws like the cartoon cat. "How the hell can such a big… guy walk so silently?" He snapped rhetorically and turned back to the desk, composing himself.
"It's a Jaffa thing." Carter said brightly, appearing from behind Teal'c, sending Jack skipping another step sideways.
"Dammit, Carter." Jack scratched at his head, trying to look nonchalant.
There was an awkward pause while all three looked around yet another empty office nobody was eager to pack up.
Finally, Sam broke the silence. "We did do the right thing, didn't we, sir?"
Jack picked up a rock, a real rock this time, and flipped it over. He contemplated the rock for a few seconds. "Wasn't our call, Carter." He grimaced and tilted his head like he always did when his mouth skipped ahead of his mind and came out with something… dumb.
"Sir…" Carter started off with an earnest look in her eyes, but was unable to continue. She dropped her head and looked sideways.
Again, the long pause slid over the trio.
"I know." Jack tossed a rock from hand to hand. He looked sidelong at Carter and Teal'c. He sighed. "Honestly Carter, I said it before, if I had my way we would have gone in hot. We would have started firing and not stopped until we got our people back and everyone else was flat out on the ground."
Teal'c spoke up then. "Such an action would have been ill considered, O'Neill. Osiris has a number of Jaffa. Quite likely, we would have been killed before we were five steps from the gate."
Jack looked for a moment like he would slam the innocent rock he held into the desk, but at the last second, he pulled his blow and set it softly on the wooden top. "I know that Teal'c." He shook his head. "I just wish we could have done something."
"Me too." Carter said softly.
Teal'c lifted his head, and raised an eyebrow slightly. "As do I."
- - - - -
I'll take 'Life Goes On' for 400, Alex… Jack thought as he swivelled his chair around in the briefing room. SG1 had just completed their briefing in preparation for their half day trip offworld, commencing in one hour. The gate teams had been given a 48 hour stand-down which had ended this morning.
SG6 had been declared dead three days earlier. The memorial service was scheduled for the next day, and General Hammond had indicated that SG6's offices would be cleaned out at the end of the week.
Jack smiled to himself. Six months later and nobody so much as dusted Daniel's office. SG6 got one week… He shrugged it off. The entire team was gone. The 'cleaners' didn't have a cranky Colonel getting in their way whenever they took one step through the doorway. Besides, nobody knew for sure that Daniel was actually dead. For all they knew, he could come back tomorrow.
Jack shut his eyes tightly, the image of Emma crumpling backwards searing his thoughts. Her golden eyes glimmered brightly against the purple bruises on her face. Sanchez's limp body being dragged by Osiris. God only knew what that Goa'uld had done to…
"Unscheduled offworld activation!" The call rang out across the intercom. Jack's head came up, and instantly he was on his feet. It was routine now for him, if he was in residence and a wormhole opened, he was on hand to see what was going on. He skipped rapidly down the stairs to the command room.
"Receiving Tok'ra IDC, sir." The Sergeant called.
General Hammond nodded. "Open the iris."
Jack stuck his hands in his pockets and rolled his eyes, wondering what the Tok'ra had in store for them this time. He followed Hammond down the second flight of stairs to the gate room.
The event horizon shimmered for a few seconds. As Jack cleared the heavy metal doors and entered the gate room, two forms emerged from the gate. Jack's hands stayed firmly in his pockets as Anise and Jacob walked down the ramp. He wasn't giving them an inch and his closed body language reflected that fact. While he respected, even liked Jacob, he had long ago learned to beware Tok'ra bearing gifts.
"George." Jacob stepped forward and held out a hand to General Hammond.
The SGC commander responded in kind. "Jacob." He nodded congenially to Anise. They had not seen the Tok'ra scientist since the destruction of the Tok'ra base. It was good to know that some of their allies had survived.
Jacob looked up to O'Neill, loitering in the background. "Jack! How are you doing?"
"Jacob." Jack kept his response simple, giving a brief smile that did not quite touch his eyes.
"How's Sammy?" Jacob turned back to Hammond.
"Major Carter is well, Jacob." Hammond nodded his head. "Would you like me to call her?"
"We have important news, General Hammond." Anise broke in. "We should speak privately."
"Certainly." Hammond put his hand out, gesturing to the stairs. "Let's adjourn to the briefing room. Colonel, would you join us?"
Jack rocked back on his heels, jingling some change in his pockets. "Certainly, sir." Finally, he gestured to the stairs. "After you." As the two Tok'ra and Hammond exited the room, Jack grimaced and said to the empty air, "Oh I know I'm not going to enjoy this." He shook his head and ruefully followed along.
- - - - -
Five minutes later, they were seated around the large red and black table. As usual, Hammond took the head of the table, like an indulgent father presiding over Thanksgiving dinner. Jack sat to his right, and the two Tok'ra sat to his left. Anise pushed forward a small device with a round crystal set into a mechanical web.
"We received this signal from an operative of ours approximately six hours ago. The signal travelled from deep space, so we estimate it was sent roughly twelve hours ago." She touched a button and an image was transmitted upwards, somehow forming a flat screen in thin air. O'Neill could see the Tok'ra clearly through it, yet the detail of the image was not compromised.
It had the jerky quality of a home movie. The scene was clearly Goa'uld. There were hieroglyphics on the predominantly gold coloured walls. The floor was a white colour, and O'Neill could almost hear the ringing of Jaffa boots.
"Uh… could you turn up the sound a bit?" He queried, making little circular motions beside his ears. "Too many years in the Air Force without proper hearing protection…"
"There's no sound, Jack. Video only. Watch." Jacob pointed to the image, drawing Jack's attention back. The camera stilled, its owner apparently reaching his or her destination. Jack swore under his breath as the camera panned across a disturbing scene.
The first image was that of a young man, his tall, lean frame curled up around itself, knees to his chest as he leaned against the wall. He was dressed in green camouflage fatigues and a black t-shirt. His eyes and ears were covered with a strange gold-metal device. His t-shirt was ripped, and he had an impressive collection of bruises patterning his jaw, chest and neck. His hands were off to the side, but Jack could see enough to know that they had been cuffed together.
"Is that…?" Hammond began, sitting upright and leaning forward, his palms pressed to the table top.
"Sergeant Dimitri Vale." Jack said softly. "Assigned to SG6. Dammit, someone still has him."
His next words died out as the camera panned to a burly African-American man, in a matching uniform. Like Dimitri, his eyes and ears were covered. His head moved slightly, like he was scenting the air. He was in front of Dimitri, the younger man's feet against his leg as he sat cross-legged on the floor. His dark skin hid the worst of the bruises, but Jack could see that he was in rough shape. From the angle of the camera, they could not tell if Moresby's hands were bound, but it was likely.
Jack continued. "Captain Joe Moresby, also SG6."
"Are you saying the Goa'uld still have two of my people?" Hammond burst out.
Jacob merely pointed at the screen again. Jack whispered, "Oh God." The camera panned sideways to a man sitting next to Moresby. O'Neill instantly recognised the tall, muscular form of Major Patrick Sanchez. Sanchez was blindfolded like his team-mates and battered. His sleeve was almost gone, cut away, and dried blood covered his shoulder and upper arm like the work of a drunken tattoo artist. An impressive bruise stood out along his jaw line as well.
Jack's head shook in denial. If Sanchez was there, then…
"Emma." He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as he briefly looked away. Emma leaned against the wall next to Dimitri, in front of Sanchez. Like the others, she was blindfolded and bruised. Jack could see three holes in her t-shirt, but no blood underneath. Someone had gotten her to a sarcophagus. The bruise was gone from her forehead, replaced by a reddish burn.
The camera panned down. Now, Jack could see that all of SG6 had been bound, their hands cuffed. They sat with their hands together, layered like the high-school cheer, one hand on top of the other, leaving each of them with one hand free. Sanchez was patting his hand on theirs.
"What are they doing?" Hammond cocked his head and squinted at the image.
"They are wearing Goa'uld sensory deprivation devices designed to weaken the spirits of their captives. With the devices on, the prisoners can neither see nor hear."
"And they can't communicate…" Jack finished. He nodded his head. "Morse code."
Hammond's head slowly bobbed as he understood. "Sanchez is speaking to all of them at the same time. He's communicating through Morse code." He looked from the Tok'ra to Jack. "What's he saying?"
Anise spoke first. "We have analysed what we have seen of their… conversation."
"And?" Jack said shortly, not in the mood to wheedle information out of the scientist with a snake in her head.
Jacob leaned forward on his elbows, interlacing his fingers. "Knock-knock jokes, Jack."
The Colonel sighed and put his hands over his face, laughing. Trust Sanchez to come up with something to divert his team… or perhaps it was the influence of their civilian.
Hammond got them all back on track. "Who has them now?"
As usual, the Tok'ra preferred not to simply tell what they knew. Anise crossed her forearms on the table's surface. "Watch."
Jack and Hammond looked back at the image. The camera operator had moved around until he or she was behind Sanchez. As to be expected, the Major appeared oblivious to his stalker. The camera operator moved back as a slim arm in a white sleeve darted into the frame and took Emma by the collar, hauling her bodily out of the circle of her team-mates. The camera panned right back, as if the operator had retreated ten feet.
As one, the three remaining SG members surged to their feet. Sanchez and Moresby each grabbed one of Emma's arms, trained reflexes overcoming their sensory disabilities. Dimitri, too far away to grab, edged forward, cuffed hands before him until he touched Joe's shoulder.
He jerked his hands away as Jaffa stepped up behind both Sanchez and Moresby and touched the vicious cattle-prod devices to their backs. Both Sanchez and Moresby received the full force of the shock, while Emma twitched between them. Setting his jaw, Dimitri thrust himself at the spot he judged the Jaffa shocking Moresby to be standing. Jack clenched his fist as the young man hit his target, pushing the surprised Jaffa back a few steps. Dimitri used the heavy cuffs on his wrists as a battering weapon, slamming them into the Jaffa's chest and throat, knocking him down.
Sanchez released Emma and spun, his cuffs finding the Jaffa's throat, sending the warrior crashing to the floor. Bereft of a target, Sanchez put his hands out and felt for Emma's arms. His search ended as a Goa'uld hand-device hurled him against the wall, dropping him bonelessly to the ground. Moresby slumped as the same Goa'uld fist struck him in the temple. Jack winced as Dimitri's long form flew backwards, blood flying from his mouth.
All too soon, Emma was the only one left standing, held by the collar at arm's length by the Goa'uld Osiris. The blonde creature's contemptuous sneer passed over the blinded team. Emma, oblivious to the sneer, cocked her head and lashed out with a foot, striking Osiris in the knee. She put her hands on Osiris's arm, balancing herself as she kicked higher. This time, she hit Osiris in the hip.
The Goa'uld's face darkened with anger, and he used his free hand to hold up a small remote device. A press of a button and the coverings over Emma's ears folded back. Osiris yelled something at the smaller woman, making her cringe backward painfully. The Goa'uld's hands grabbed Emma by the throat and arms, bending her backwards and throwing her off balance so that she could no longer lash out. Osiris continued speaking, Emma simply shook her head and grimaced, once even spitting at the creature pinning her.
Finally, Osiris had enough. The remote was touched again, sending Emma back into a silent world, and then the geographer was hurled, face first, into the cell wall. She dropped to her back, stunned. The camera followed Osiris as the creature laughed and walked away. There was one look back, showing Dimitri struggling upright, reaching out for his team-mates as they lay unconscious on the floor.
Anise touched a button and the image flickered out. Hammond sat for a moment, considering what he had seen before turning to the Tok'ra.
"I don't understand." He said softly. "Did the bomb fail to detonate? What happened?"
"It's a long story, George." Jacob replied.
"And let me guess, you can't tell us." Jack said acerbically.
"Colonel." Hammond said, a mild tone of warning creeping in to his statement.
Jacob bit back a reply and shook his head. "Actually, Jack, I think we can tell you a fair bit here."
"Oh good." The Colonel responded mildly. "Someone remembered the whole 'I know what you know' aspect of our treaty." He waved his hands for a moment before leaning back in his chair.
"Jack." Hammond warned his subordinate softly, before turning back to the Tok'ra. He tilted his head to them. "What can you tell us?"
Jacob and Anise exchanged glances and nodded before Jacob put a small metal box on the table. The male Tok'ra spoke. "Osiris kidnapping SG6 was no accident." He looked up at the steely-eyed Colonel across the table. "They were expecting you."
"How?" Jack grated.
Jacob gestured to the little device Hammond now turned over curiously and examined. "Those are remote transmitters. The Goa'uld have scatted them across any number of worlds. When the gate is activated, they send a signal back to Osiris and Anubis. Presumably they are low-cost, low-maintenance, low-energy ways to monitor who is entering Goa'uld worlds of little strategic importance."
Hammond cocked his head. "Since P8T-119 had no useful resources or people, the Goa'uld did not want to waste firepower or resources on a manned base, so they left this thing to watch instead?"
"Exactly." Jacob continued. "When you did your initial survey of the planet, you triggered the device. By the time Osiris arrived by ship, you were gone. I guess he stayed in orbit to determine if you would return. When SG6 returned the next week…"
"They walked into a trap." Jack finished for the older man.
"Why SG6?" Hammond asked. "They are a young team…"
"We do not believe that SG6 was the original target of the Goa'uld, Osiris." Anise broke in.
"They wanted us." Jack finished.
Before Jack could continue, Hammond stepped back in. "Alright… we understand how they were taken. Where are they now, and how did Osiris escape?"
"Our informant was not able to send a great deal of information. From what we could determine, Osiris used the rings to travel to a waiting ship. The vessel was in position over the gate, preparing to receive Daniel Jackson as he passed through the gate. When Osiris determined that Doctor Jackson would not be joining him, he escaped just as the bomb was detonated." Anise looked to Jacob, who picked up the narrative.
"Osiris's ship was damaged by the blast. He was able to revive Emma and Patrick. They were…"
"We saw what happened to them." Jack didn't want to relive that little slice of his life.
Jacob nodded his understanding. "Yes. Anyway, Osiris is keeping SG6 together until he can meet up with Anubis. He has some very bad plans for them. Very bad."
- - - - -
TBC