Name: Better Ways To Self Destruct (aka 'Politics...Oy')
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Summary: Jack and Sam deal with accusations of trespassing; meanwhile, Teal'c needs to find a way to dial home.
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Disclaimer: Stargate SG1 and the characters are the property of MGM. There is no infringement intended and no profit made.
–Part 5–
Acrobatics
"Colonel?" Carter said again. It was a question this time; though his vision was impaired, she was certain his judgement was still sound. He was her superior and she was trusting in his instinct for direction.
"Find a way for us to survive, Major."
"Yes sir." Sam surveyed the four men, standing in two rows in front of them, shoulder-to-shoulder. A woman blocked their retreat, weapon trained on O'Neill. Warily, Sam lowered her P–90 an inch or so. Jack's grip was tight on her shoulder.
"We were transported here by accident," she called to their ambush. "We need to find a way down – can you help us?"
Not how Jack would have done it, but then again he'd never been good at asking for directions.
"This is Triyan territory," one of the men responded. "There is no place for the Dueteri here."
"We're explorers," Sam called back. "We came through the Stargate."
"Oh, well, if you came through the Stargate…" the woman behind muttered. Sam glanced back at her; the young twenty-something accompanied offered a sarcastic half-smile.
"Hey," Jack interjected, "we did!"
"And in what way, exactly, is that supposed to convince us to trust you?"
"Well, it's the truth, for a start," Jack snapped. "Besides, do you actually think we wanted to be beamed up to this darned mountain?"
"Sir," Sam warned. She was still acutely aware of the number of weapons currently threatening their position. Jack hadn't forgotten, but his annoyance overcame any thoughts of diplomacy. Playing the sarcastic cynic was his gig.
"Whatever," he muttered. "Look: we saw what it was like down there when we arrived. Now from the looks of it you guys were fighting a pretty heady war around here, and I'm guessing there are a lot of hard feelings still – but we're not, I repeat not, involved in that. So, fellas, I think we'll just be on our way."
"And where will you go?" jeered one of the younger men. "A blind man and his guide."
Jack's grip became so tight on Sam's shoulder that it was painful.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you," Carter responded, "never to underestimate a potential enemy? I assume you're in a military of some kind." The looks they exchanged were telling. Though Jack didn't see them, he found great satisfaction in Sam's next words. "No? Well, I'm afraid we're trained to do a lot more than taunt our enemies, so unless you want to put that to the test I propose we all lower our weapons."
An uncomfortable silence. One of those silences that always made Jack O'Neill feel slightly smug, when it was only a matter of time until their opponents gave because the scumbags knew their card had just been majorly trumped.
Heh. Major-ly.
Bad joke, Jack.
He heard the lowering of weapons, felt Carter bring her P–90 down in a characteristically smooth motion. His own pistol remained in hand, relaxed at his side. The safety was off, but they didn't know that.
"Now, isn't this better?" he remarked with a distinctly condescending air. "Let's start simple. I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill. This is Major Carter. We are peaceful explorers from a planet called Earth. We came through the Stargate – big, silvery ringy thing, you'd know it if you saw it."
"We just need to get back there," Carter added. "We didn't come here looking for a fight."
"See? Peaceful."
Sam watched as the men ahead turned to each other in muted discussion. It was concluded by the most subdued of the four, who simply remarked, "The war ended a long time ago."
"You say you are peaceful," the first of them said, turning back to address Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter. "We will help you – if you help us. A trade deal."
The woman behind Jack and Sam snorted loudly. They ignored her.
"What kind of help?" O'Neill asked.
"Our people have been living in the mountains for some time, Colonel. Our supplies are beginning to run low and our technology is failing."
"What kind of technology?" enquired Sam.
"Down, girl," Jack muttered wryly into her ear.
"We will show you," another of the men offered.
"What," O'Neill responded, "you mean you're actually going to trust us?"
A pause. Then: "Yes."
"Sweet."
----------
Teal'c moved with precise care towards the Stargate. He had determined that the armed barrier could be overcome but was clearly not without risk. He suggested Daniel should take Sarai back to the caves; the archaeologist had protested, unwilling to leave his friend; now, he and Sarai watched from a safe distance.
"He has courage," Sarai remarked, her eyes following Teal'c as he ducked out of sight.
"Yeah," Daniel agreed, his sense of trepidation evident in his voice. "Truth is, my friends and I wouldn't be here without his courage. Same applies to a lot of other people, too."
"Yet you keep fighting," Sarai observed, "keep risking your lives. For a noble cause, I trust?"
Daniel smiled. "We fight for a reason, yeah."
"Of course you do," Sarai answered with a gracious nod. "I simply hope it is a cause or threat sufficient enough to put you in the path of such peril."
"Yeah," Daniel sighed, "trust me when I say that it is."
Sarai fell silent a moment, her ancient eyes sweeping sadly over her much-loved homeland. "Many lives were lost here," she reflected. "Many lives."
Daniel tried to summon a suitable response, but could find no answer to the despair in her eyes. He took a deep breath: the air seemed to be clearing. Glancing up at the sky, he muttered, "The smog's lifting."
"Smog?" Sarai enquired curiously.
"Oh, er, it's the word we use for smoke and fog, means a cloud of pollution."
"I see. Well, Doctor Jackson–"
"Please," he interjected, "I'd much prefer 'Daniel'."
"–I am afraid you are mistaken. The haze moves because of the wind but it never lifts. It has held its place in our heavens for twenty-eight years and it rests heavy on our shoulders still."
"That cloud has been here for all that time?"
"Ever since the city was destroyed, yes."
Another solemn silence as Daniel looked towards the source of the smog. He shook his head, unable to comprehend the scale of the lasting damage.
"Why haven't you tried to rebuild?" he asked. She did not answer. Daniel dropped his head and wondered if Teal'c had succeeded in contacting the SGC.
---------------
The road was an important factor in Teal'c's estimation. The light and heat intensity of the flare had caused the barrier's defences to respond – presumably designed to repel weapons fire – but luckily body heat didn't appear to be enough to set it off. Movement didn't seem to be a factor and sound he kept to a minimum; therefore, logically, the only other sensor would be pressure.
Whether or not the road did act as a huge pressure-pad, Teal'c was unwilling to take the risk. He skirted round it on the verge but the grass was becoming more and more resistant, pulling on his boots. He moved swiftly to prevent the ground gaining a permanent purchase on his steps and, his staff weapon strapped firmly onto his back, kept cautious.
Teal'c soon came to realise that the strip of grass – or whatever it was that formed the verge – was becoming narrower. The ground on his left was gradually rising and ahead Teal'c could see that it began to form a slope upon which the tree line perched. He could not afford to stop moving: he had to decide now whether or not to risk following the road further.
As the bank rose up beside him, instinct told him to jump. His feet left the ground only to be pulled back by the grip of the grass; Teal'c had anticipated this and had compensated with a controlled leap towards a low branch that stretched out overhead. He grabbed onto it, its roughly textured bark providing the grip he needed to pull himself up. With all the lithe precision of a man who had done this countless times before, Teal'c swung himself out of the grasp of the grass and onto the bare bank.
The soil was loose and he almost slid back down to the roadside, but he had controlled for that eventuality. One booted foot was angled to dig into the earth, slowing his descent; the other skimmed ahead and came to rest on a protruding tree root.
He stood there a few moments, one foot deep in the soil, the other supported by a natural platform. Teal'c surveyed the road beneath him calmly. He glanced ahead and noted that the verge did indeed give way to the road further on.
Unstrapping his staff weapon from his back, he used it as an aid to climb. He dug it into the soil, pulled himself up and quickly ascended to the level of the trees again.
-----------------
Jack O'Neill was making a vague attempt to look interested. If he had been able to see, his gaze would no doubt have been wandering around whatever room he was now inside, but he had decided that this time he'd make an effort – for Carter's sake. Usually Daniel did all this negotiating stuff. It wasn't that she was out of her depth – she was doing brilliantly, in fact, especially considering the persistent snide remarks of the female 'soldier' in their company. It was just that she sounded almost as frustrated as he felt. Standing here in goodness-knows-where, making trivial agreements about goodness-knows-what, he silently asserted that they should be finding a way back to the Gate instead.
Of course, this was a way back to the Gate. Still, its lack of immediacy meant it was far from ideal. Jack would never admit why, but he was getting edgy. His sight hadn't returned yet. He had expected it to gradually fade back in, attributing the term 'temporary' to his impairment.
Still not blind, his thoughts muttered. Slowly, he tuned back in to the conversation.
"…a lot to ask," Carter was saying. O'Neill detected a hint of warning in her tone.
"It is," a voice agreed. They had encountered an older man upon arrival, a spokesman of some sort. "Our situation demands that we ask these things, Major. Perhaps there is something else we can offer you, aside from safe passage?"
In the space Carter left for him to speak, Jack asked: "Ya got any ointment?" He gestured casually: "For the eyes, y'know."
From somewhere in the corner, the female member of their ambush sucked her teeth loudly.
"It is the rarest of all our supplies," the spokesman, Cain, explained. "Great quantities were made during the war but since then…"
"Perhaps we can help you manufacture more," Sam offered. "We could send a sample of it back to Earth and have it reproduced."
Jack added, " 'Sides: four eyes are better than two, wouldn't you say?"
Cain smiled. "You are quite right, of course."
O'Neill had to give it to the guy, he knew the right time for flattery.
"Now, if you don't mind, I have one honker of a headache," the Colonel began.
"Oh – yes. Of course, the device must have caused you much pain. You must be hungry also. Come." A hefty hand settled non–threateningly on his shoulder.
"Cain, have you lost all sense of duty to your race?" demanded the voice of the female cynic from across the room. "You're leading them away to rest when half of your own people haven't slept in weeks, leading them away to eat when your own family is practically starving."
"Step down from the platform you constructed for yourself amongst the clouds, Gale. These people have agreed to help us, is that not enough?"
O'Neill got the strong impression from her silence that it wasn't.
"If you want us to help you," he said, "you gotta let us get our bearings first. We've only been here five minutes. As for food, we've got our own supplies, thanks."
"It's alright, Colonel," Carter replied; "I can get started with their technology right away."
He was afraid she'd say that.
"Fine, whatever. Okay Carter, you go with Miss Optimistic over there, I'm sure she's just dying to show you around." He turned towards where he thought Cain must be standing. "We're grateful for your hospitality, sir, but I really do need to lie down before my head implodes."
Cain laughed softly. "Surely, I believe you. Our thanks, Major Carter. This way, Colonel, your accommodation is not far."
Carter watched as the elderly man slowly led O'Neill out of the door of the make-shift negotiation chamber. Dubiously, she turned towards Gale, who met her gaze with a glare. The young woman stood very suddenly and crossed the room, muttering as she exited.
Sam took a deep breath to brace herself, then followed.
-------------
Teal'c crouched low on the ridge overlooking the Stargate. The majestic alien ring was surrounded by the grass-like organism; some feet away, the road began, guarded by its towering defences. The Dial Home Device resided idly somewhere between the two.
It was clear to him what he needed to do.
Teal'c had climbed a lot of trees in his childhood; Chulak had been a planet with many forests. As a boy, he had wanted to get closer to the gliders as they trained in formation. The gods' power had always seemed to come from the sky.
Now, he selected a broad tree and scaled it with ease, his staff weapon still in one hand. It was fortunately positioned: a tree on the opposite side of the cutting had been felled and one of its sturdier branches stretched half way across the gap towards Teal'c's side of the bank. The branch on which he now sat was considerably thinner but he could use that to his advantage. Employing his weight to bring the wood further down, he found he could use his body to bridge the gap between the two branches, directly over the DHD.
Careful to retain his balance, Teal'c stretched out his staff weapon, which he had kept securely in one hand. He held it vertically and, with controlled loosening of grip, allowed it to slip through his grasp; he caught it again just before the bulbous end and began to punch in Earth's address.
It was difficult from this angle to see all of the chevrons and harder still to reach them, but Teal'c knew the layout of the DHD well. Once all the symbols had been punched, he touched the tip of his staff weapon against the smooth domed crystal in the centre of the pedestal. It did not respond.
He became aware that his staff weapon would not suffice to activate the Gate; it seemed that the red crystal only reacted to the pressure distributed by one's palm. He drew his weapon back up. Kneeling precariously on his wavering branch, he placed the staff flat over the two branches. Then, he wrapped his fists around both staff and tree. His ankles locked together in a similar manner and he somehow managed to swing downwards. He was now upside-down, hanging perilously above the awaiting DHD.
Slowly, he reached down with one outstretched arm. Not enough. He re-adjusted his legs, bringing his knees in to add increase his grip on the branch. He removed his other hand and let his whole upper body be pulled downwards by gravity. He was quite unused to such acrobatics but his years of training meant his body had both the flexibility to reach and the strength to support him. The tips of his fingers contacted with the smooth crystal and it glowed; Teal'c had to pull himself back up immediately to avoid the destructive wave of the event horizon. The Stargate had engaged.
Teal'c hoisted himself back onto the topside of the branches. Moving backwards towards the trunk of the tree, he took up his staff and climbed down.