Author's Note: I have returned, written, criticized, rewritten, and here is a much better chapter 4. Or, as Becky, my darling Creative Consultant wants, longer. ;) I only ask one thing of those of you who are still hanging around, waiting for this damned story to be finished—review. But don't ask me to write more. I'm going to write more. But if you tell me to do so, it makes me feel pressured and results in a yearlong writer's block. Fair warning.
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She moved silently down the hallway, robes flapping slightly with her movements. She was alone, her guards left behind by strict orders. She'd overthrown their government a few years ago, not without violence, and despite the respect she'd gained, they were still fearful and slightly distrustful. She despised having to earn respect. Had that incident with several of the System Lords not occurred, she simply could have revealed who she was and had them cowering at her feet. The slip earlier could have ruined it all, but none saw but the boy, and that could work to her advantage. He wasn't free to slink away and spread news that could reach the ears of the System Lords. She could use what she was to gain advantage, but only he must be around to see it.
She feared to be discovered and for word to get out, and her hiding to be in vain. Yet she also feared there may already be a spy in her midst. Could it be that this boy was sent by the System Lords in order to destroy her? To kill her? He, despite being severely wounded, still came towards the city in a determined manner. Yet, after a search of the bodies, the boy, and everything they carried, all that was found were meager weapons that didn't even pierce the armor of her warriors. The circumstances were much too confusing. Why would they wait so long to attack? For weeks, they'd come, watched by hidden spies, searching. Looking. For her? At least, she set her soldiers upon them, perhaps for good, perhaps not. Now, here was this man, and she planned to get answers from him.
She unlocked the cell and entered, and stood over him. He was half-dead, at least, unconscious in the corner. Only at the last minute would the sarcophagus be used. Until then, weakness from wounds, and confusion, perhaps fear, as well, judging from the screams heard throughout the stone corridors, throughout the underground city, induced by the hallucinogen, would serve to break him, and to gain information.
"Wake," she napped. Getting no response, she kicked him. He groaned and opened his half-glazed eyes. No fear, but confusion. "What is your purpose here?"
He furrowed his brow, and then a look of amazement and hopeful disbelieve filled his eyes. "Sha're?" Delusion. She signed, and he continued. "Am I dead?" Realization, but not what she wanted, dawned on him. More a sad disappointment. "No. No. You are. Like my parents." He closed his eyes, shutting her out with desperation that seemed reluctant, as if part of him still wanted to see her. "You're dead," he said, more convincing himself than talking to her. "Dead. Teal'C. He…"
She stared at him as he mumbled on, drifting slowly into unconsciousness again. Teal'C. She yelled for a guard then, in the planet's native tongue. As footsteps approached, she glanced down again, and smiled. Here was her key. Her freedom to walk amongst the System Lords again without fear of death.
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It was so frustrating, and only because he knew now that there was no point any longer. He paused for a second in the doorway of the room, and looked in over once more. It was the uppermost level—a single large room filled with footprints left in the dust, and scattered notebooks of illegible handwriting. Jack decided that all archaeologists must have this trait. And he'd thought for so long that it was something only asked for on doctors' resumes. Now was not, of course, the time to joke. But it served pretty well as a defense mechanism, didn't it?
His group had been the slowest to search. Maybe he had pushed them too hard. Especially as they go higher up. Now they were done, and no trace was to be found of Daniel. He headed down, still glancing every now and then into empty, dark rooms, his flashlight beam glancing over words on the walls that he didn't understand, as if he was going to suddenly find Daniel sitting an waiting in a corner they'd checked again and again. They'd looked everywhere. Never mind that there was no trace in the lower rooms and no external way up to the higher levels. Daniel could have sprouted wings and flown, right?
Outside in the rain, SG-5 (with the exception of the two of its members sitting at the 'Gate to send messages back to the SGC) stood off at the third temple, huddled together. Their talking stopped as he stepped outside, and they looked at him. Like children talking and playing after the teacher had left the room, and pretending to be perfect angels when she walks back in. Carter and Teal'C waited silently just outside of the doorway of the first temple for him. Jack exited, pulling his hood up over his head. What was left to do? Hell, he'd single-handedly search the planet if he could, but between the weather and Hammond, he'd never get away with it or find Daniel. All they could do was wait. The weather was becoming increasingly worse, and Carter was uneasy about the prospect of a hurricane. They'd have to wait and return when it was possible to find him outdoors.
Or course, they'd all had the unspoken thought that he was taken through the Stargate. Chances were, if he'd come here and was captured, and then taken to the 'Gate by another path, they'd never know, as the rain had now washed away all traces of everything. And if he'd been taken offworld, that would be like trying to find a needle in a roomful of millions of haystacks.
A movement caught his eye, then, and he drew his gun, moving forwards without a word. Carter and Teal'C followed suite without question. In the clearing in front of the temples were scattered boulders of several sizes. A flatter, but wider one, was moving, sliding across the ground. They reached it as it stopped. At their feet was a roughly circular hole, and up a ladder within came a shadow. Jack yelled at it to stop, but the words were swept away by the wind. Up it came, and in the glow of flashlights, a figure hooded and robed in black came up, and out, standing in the mud with a lowered face. The others moved back a ways, still holding guns and flashlights steady upon it. Jack snapped for identification, and the words reached the figure this time.
Daniel lifted his face, squinting in the beams. He stared at them, startled. Black figures behind bright lights. Uneasily, Jack stepped forward. He put his own weapon away, but gestured for the others to keep their own out and ready.
"Daniel?" he asked, uncertain. This wasn't right—it was too easy. Just didn't sit right in his mind. Daniel stared at him, opened his mouth to speak. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and Jack caught the unconscious man before he fell backwards into the yawning dark below.
TBC (and soon, I promise)