Four
/ P3X-796 /
The Command Center was silent.
The alarms had ceased a couple of minutes ago, and all was once more in relative calm. Until the doors slid open, and Koraes and their guest rushed into the room.
"What was that, Ssendrriya?" Koraes breathed softly as she ran to the Tactical Display. At least, she assumed it was the Tactical Display since on the few occasions when the station had been in danger, things had been shown there.
O'Neill was right behind her, looking over her shoulder. He did not see anything that looked like hostiles; but then, he could not really tell what was supposed to be there and what was not. So rather than seem completely dumb, he waited silently for the other voice to answer. A voice, he noted, which had never shown itself. A voice which the girl talked to from both the medical section and now the Command Center. An idea started to form.
The voice answered almost immediately. "There is no danger, Koraes." The AI told them. "The tremors were caused by the shifting of tectonic plates on this world."
Koraes relaxed and sank into the chair near where she had been standing. She had let the Human out on the premise that, being military on his own world, he might be of value in an attack, which was what she had thought was happening. Now that it was not, she did not know what she should do.
On the one hand, if he meant to threaten her, he could do so now. He had perfect opportunity. But on the other hand, maybe he was just waiting for a better chance. They were, after all, at the core of the Sector Post. Maybe he was waiting for her to take him closer to its fringes so that he had a better chance of escape. The simple fact was that she just did not know.
O'Neill was studying the Tactical Display. Or he assumed it was the Tactical Display since she had gone immediately to it when they had thought the station was under attack. But still, the symbols and diagrams refused to make sense to him. He was beginning to feel that sense of frustration again.
"What does all this mean?" He finally asked of both the girl with him and the ever-present voice. Then it occurred to him fully what the second voice had just said. "Wait. You called us up here like the place was on fire because of an earthquake?" His voice was incredulous.
Not that he was complaining really. It had gotten him out of the confinement. Still, having been built by the Ancients, he would have expected it to be better designed. Surely its sensors could tell the difference between an earthquake and an attack!
Koraes looked at what he was looking at and shrugged. "I think it is the Tactical Display." She offered softly. She was taking a great risk admitting to him that she did not know for sure, but did she really have much of a choice?
"She is correct." Ssendrriya affirmed. "Currently, it shows all sections and systems in optimum Security Configuration and on standby." She chose not to answer his second question.
He nodded. "So all that was . . . what? An earthquake?" He asked again, incredulously.
There was a pause as Koraes tried to make sense of what he had said and Ssendrriya processed the translation. "That is your term, yes." The AI finally answered.
Koraes blinked. "Then we should return to Medical and-"
"Oh, no." O'Neill protested, taking a step away from her and shifting to defensive readiness. "I am not going back into holding." He stated as though it were a simple fact.
Koraes did not understand at first. He seemed to be preparing to defend himself, but from what or whom? Her? She tilted her head and looked at him carefully.
"I mean you no harm." She assured. "Why do you retreat?"
"Because I am not going to be put in a cage again . . . that's why." He answered, not moving from his defensive pose yet. Not until he was sure she would not put him in lockup again.
"A . . . cage?" She asked. "I do not understand." And she did not. As she understood it, she had not caged him . . . only protected herself. "You understood the self-protection as a Cage?" She queried, head tilted still.
O'Neill's frown deepened. "Of course I did . . . if you meant the forcefield. How the hell else was I supposed to take it?" He shot back.
Koraes shook her head. "It was not intended in that fashion." She told him gently. "It was only for my own protection. As I said before, I did not know your intentions in the beginning. Thus, the forcefield was not designed to keep you in but to keep you from me." And in Builder technology, those were very different things. Has he pressed any other angle on the shield, it would have given way to allow him more room, so long as he did not attempt to move toward her . . . or any sensitive equipment. Had it been meant to cage him, to keep him in, it would not give in any direction . . . period.
O'Neill narrowed his eyes. "Then why take me back if you don't 'intend to cage me'?" He questioned, remaining carefully alert and ready.
Koraes thought about that for a moment. "I . . ." She shrugged a bit, and her eyes turned down. "I guess I was afraid." She admitted.
Now it was O'Neill's turn to be confused. He relaxed his stance only a hair though. "Afraid of what? Me?"
Her metallic azurite eyes came back up to meet his brown ones. "Yes." She admitted in a small voice. "You are military. I am . . . not."
At first, O'Neill was not sure how he should take that. Of course, she did not carry herself with the bearing of a military officer. Maybe she was just too young to belong to her people's military. But that brought up another question.
In their run for the Command Center, he had seen no one else. Not a single sign that the place was inhabited except for her. Strange, to say the least. Did that mean that this girl was alone here? If so, his chances for escape just improved by a great margin. She had said that no one had come here since the place was abandoned. Oh, now how many brain cells had that one taken!? Of course she was alone!
O'Neill shifted posture to a more easy stance, something akin to Parade Rest. "Well, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna go home." He told her matter-of-factly. "Let me do that, and we don't have a problem."
"We do otherwise?" Now she was getting nervous again. Was that a threat?
O'Neill sighed heavily and shook his head. Damn, he hated when he was forced to play diplomat. Daniel and Sam were so much better than he was at it.
"Not what I meant." Besides the fact that she appeared to be so young, he was fairly sure he could best her in hand-to-hand if it came to it. So, really, there was no true problem. "I only meant that . . . never mind." He sighed again. "Just . . . can you turn the Gate back on and let me go home or not?" He asked, fighting that sense of frustration again.
Koraes frowned deeply in thought. "Restart the Gate?" She asked. Her metallic eyes turned to the console in front of her. "Ssendrriya, can the Gate be restarted from here?" She asked.
There was a pause. Then the soft voice of the Post's AI came back. "I cannot restart the Gate since it was shut down manually and not by use of my systems." She answered.
Koraes looked apologetically up at O'Neill from where she still sat before the Tactical Display. "I am sorry. It can't be reactivated from here." She told him softly in that same very small voice.
O'Neill blinked and frowned. "Wait, you shut it down; but you can't turn it back on?" He pressed, starting to feel the futility of this situation again.
She shook her head. "No." She answered honestly. "I don't know how. And Ssendrriya can't."
He shook his head firmly to clear the confusion flooding it. "Okay, wait . . . you turned it off but you don't know how to turn it back on?" He asked, incredulous. "Then how the hell did you know how to turn it off in the first place?"
Koraes felt as though she were going to cry. He had so many questions she could not answer; and the more she could not answer, the more agitated he became. She started to feel helpless again.
"I did what Ssendrriya told me to." She answered this latest of questions, knowing it would likely not be good enough an answer for him.
Good enough was not the problem. He was not angry with her, merely confused. He shook his head again and sank into the chair before the console next to the Tactical Display heavily.
"She told you how to shut it down without her, and you did this. But because of this, neither of you can reactivate it. Why can't she just tell you how to reactivate it without her?" He tried a new tack.
"Because it is not possible." Koraes said very softly. "Ssendrriya just told you this."
"Correct." The voice of the Post's AI confirmed. "In the event that the Gate is shut down manually and not by a maintenance cycle, it sends out a signal to the Area Post informing Homeworld that the Gate has failed. In this event, a Maintenance Team is dispatched to repair and reactivate the Gate." Ssendrriya informed the Human.
O'Neill felt as though he were in way over his head. He put his head in his hands for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. "So . . . basically, I'm stuck here until a maintenance team comes who isn't likely to ever come since this base was forgotten so long ago. That sound about right?"
Koraes wished she could give him better news. "Correct. I am sorry." She offered in her gentle voice tinged with apology.
O'Neill sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. Except to try to find another way home. If the Gate could not be reactivated, then there had to be another way off this planet and station. Didn't there? But even if there was, it was likely beyond his ability to use it.
"Koraes, Is there another way off this base maybe?" He asked.
Koraes nodded. "Yes. The Sector Post has ships." She told him. "Though most of them were used in the evacuation. I think the only one left is a little scout ship."
"Correct." Ssendrriya told her immediately.
"Good. Then you" he looked hard into Koraes' eyes "are going to take me to it and show me how to fly it." Damnit, he was going home; and that was all there was to it.
Koraes shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't."
"What!?" He protested then sighed and sank back into the chair. "No, wait. Let me guess. You don't know how to fly it either?" He knew his vice sounded a bit acerbic, but he did not care right then.
"Correct." She answered apologetically.
O'Neill had the sudden urge to bang his head against the console he was sitting before until either he fell unconscious or he woke up from this bizarre dream. But he didn't follow that impulse as the only likely outcome was to be the former. Instead, he merely sighed and laid his head back against the back of the chair, eyes closed. He was right back where he had started.
Stranded.
/ P3X-796 – AN HOUR LATER /
O'Neill sat in the pilot's chair of the small scout ship and stared at the controls before him with a frown. After almost an hour of sitting just like this, they made no more sense than they had in the beginning. The symbols refused to resolve themselves into something familiar to him. He sighed.
Had the situation been different, he might have stopped to marvel at the advancement before him. He might at least have been impressed by the weapons carried by even this small scout. But right now, all he felt was frustrated, powerless, and lost . . . and he refused to let those feelings win.
Lost he was. Oh, he knew the name of the world; but that did not put him any closer to getting home from it. So lost was accurate.
Powerless was . . . mostly accurate. Without the knowledge of the Ancients, he had no idea even what these instruments were telling him much less how to fly this thing! Yet, the Sector Post had to have records, right? But then, if it did, why had the girl not read them already and gone home?
Uncurling is legs from beneath the Navigation Console, O'Neill exited the small ship and made his way back to the Command Center. There had to be records. This was, after all the Watch Post for an entire Sector . . . whatever that meant to the Ancients.
"Koraes, I need some more information." He began as he approached where she was seated in a chair that vaguely resembled one of the 'throne' chairs on Goa'uld ships but was much less ostentatious.
Koraes' metallic blue eyes came up to meet his brown ones, and he could see that she was afraid. "Yes, O'Neill?"
She had finally, after their last talk when it had become clear to her that they were going to be here together for some time, asked his name. But she seemed reticent to call him by his given name, referring to him by his House name.
He shook his head a bit. It was a small thing, and he decided it was not worth upsetting the girl over. "Are there records here on how to fly those ships?" He asked instead.
Koraes tilted her head in that fashion he was becoming accustomed to. It seemed to indicate thought or confusion. "Yes." She answered.
So he had been right. He frowned. "Can they be translated into my language?" He pressed.
She frowned, seeming not to know. "Ssendrriya?"
"They can." The AI answered his question. "Do you wish to review them?"
Was she kidding!? Of course he wanted to review them!
"Yes." He answered, seating himself before one of the Consoles while the AI translated her database for him. "Koraes?"
"Yes, O'Neill?" She queried, seemingly relieved that his question had been answered satisfactorily.
"Why haven't you reviewed these records, taught yourself to fly the ship, and gone home?" It was a legitimate question, after all. Why remain trapped here alone when you had the means to return home as he was doing? Something itched in the back of his mind, but he tried to ignore it for now. That sensation usually meant trouble, and he had enough of that right now.
"Because I do not wish to endanger the rest of the Empire." She answered without hesitation though her voice was very soft. But this was not the softness of voice that told him she was afraid her answer would displease him. This was a softness of voice that told him that she carried some guilt he had no name for.
That itching sensation in the back of his mind increased; he would regret asking the next question. "Endanger them how?"
She looked up at him, and he could see deep regret in the metallic blue eyes. "By carrying the Plague back to them."
/ EARTH /
Sam felt like banging her head against the desk, but she took a deep, calming breath instead. She and Walter had been at this for hours with the same result as simply dialing the Gate . . . nothing. Standing, she began to pace, stretching a bit as she did so.
Walter sighed heavily. It had been a good idea. It seemed though that the Gate Systems were a bit more complex than at first thought when it came to such things as overriding lockouts. Or maybe they had to open the Gate at that end to get into its systems?
"Maybe it's because we can't open the wormhole." Sam had thought of it just as he had but had voiced it first. "Which puts us right back where we began." She sighed and turned to stare at the Gate itself as though she were seeking answers from it. "Could we dial the six chevrons that will lock and then feed a low-level power through to the other Gate, build up the power and force it to lock the seventh?" She wondered aloud.
Now you're grasping at straws, Sam. And implausible ones at that. Get some rest. You're no good to him like this. She counseled herself. But she could not bring herself to leave the Control Room until she had found it.
General Hammond solved that particular dilemma for her as he entered the Control Room and looked her over. "Major, you look like hell. Get out of here and get some rest. We won't give up on him, I assure you. But I need you in top form."
That was an order, and Sam knew it. She sighed again and nodded. He was right, and she knew that too. After all, even she had been thinking it just before he had come in. She nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."
As she reached the door, Hammond's voice reached her. "And, Major?"
She stopped in the doorway and turned. "Yes, sir?"
""We'll find him." He assured.
"Yes, sir." It was not simply trust in her commanding officer. It was determination. She would not stop until she had done just that. She would not leave him exiled to some dead world.
I will find you, Jack. She promised him silently as she left the Control Room.