Chapter 6

Jack O'Neill was getting perturbed. Twice already, he and Daniel had to work hard to avoid the patrols that peppered the canyon. He was moderately pleased that Daniel was keeping up, but a large part of him wished it was Teal'c at his side rather than the archaeologist. It was a matter of having the most effective cover fire in the hills should trouble arise. Daniel was no Annie Oakley by any stretch of the imagination. He did not even carry a standard issue rifle. It had taken an extraordinary event just to get him to carry a sidearm. Cover fire would require something more than a nine-millimeter and pent-up rage.

The storm Car'met had pointed out in the shuttle was on top of them. Thunder was clapping in the canyon like a rock in a tin can. The sound was helping to mask their movement down the hill, although they still had to work to remain hidden. Ground vegetation repeatedly snagged in their boots. O'Neill gave a quick thought to how Carter and Teal'c were doing. He had to – they were the other half of his team. He knew how his half was doing, and he loathed the idea of splitting up SG-1 on a tactical mission. There was no way they could go as a group, though. The risk of being caught was too great. This way, they at least stood a chance that the mission could still be completed even if he and Daniel fell into enemy hands.

O'Neill stopped for a moment, taking in a view to his right. He tried to find Carter and Teal'c against the darkness of the canyon but failed. He had anticipated losing site of them once the two approached a smaller ridge down below their starting point. That was the only direction they could go if Carter was to get a good look at the grid. He just hoped they didn't venture too far to be outside a reasonable range of Daniel and he.

Daniel stopped short, freezing in his tracks. Another patrol was approaching. Luck was running with the two men as they moved silently and quickly into another hiding space, using the brush as cover. The patrol passed by, unaware of the presence of intruders. Jack looked at Daniel and saw the tense expression on his face. He couldn't blame his friend. He felt it, too. There was nothing comforting in the thought of capture. O'Neill had opposed the mission from the start, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Hammond had made that clear.

Daniel looked at Jack, sighing in quiet relief. "That was a little close," he said.

O'Neill nodded. "Yeah, that was a little close. Let's carry on, shall we?" Jack whispered back.

As O'Neill began to stand, Daniel grasped his sleeve. "Jack, I know I asked this before, but I didn't quite hear an answer. How are we going to get out of there and meet up with Sam and Teal'c once we find Avedra?"

"We'll just call 'em up and see where they are."

"Yeah, but you told them to maintain radio silence. Doesn't that mean they won't answer when we call?"

The colonel shrugged slightly. "Technically."

"Well, what if we need help . . . technically?"

"We just have to hope we don't need it until after zero-four-fifteen hours."

Daniel gave a pensive look. "Okay . . . I think."

"Let's carry on, shall we?"

O'Neill began to stand again when his sleeve was tugged at once again.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Daniel?" came the exasperated reply.

"I'm not trying to be difficult, but if Avedra isn't on the work crew, how are we going to find him?"

O'Neill shrugged. "I don't really know, Daniel. I didn't plan that far ahead."

"Don't you think that might be important to consider?"

"Why? You have a plan?" Jack was getting irritated again.

"Well, no, not exactly."

"And neither do I. We'll deal with it if it happens. Your mistress and mine gave detailed layouts of the complex that doesn't exist. We're just going to have to wait and see what we see."

Daniel looked as though he was going to voice another question but thought better of it, much to Jack's relief. He wanted to get a move on to the palace, and Daniel was holding things up with intellect. Jack was all for a thought-out plan, but there was no way they could have the intelligence reports they would need to do that.

O'Neill stood without further interruption from Daniel and proceeded forward. He checked his watch, noting it had taken only forty-five minutes to reach their first checkpoint, sixteen minutes less than he had anticipated. He could only hope their efficiency could be maintained. It would give them more leeway making the trek back up the mountainside with Avedra in tow.

The storm was overhead again, blasting lightning and thunder every few seconds. It was a system with horrific power. The trees swayed with the intensity of the wind. Rain began stinging their faces again as they moved down the mountainside. Small streams began appearing.

They navigated their way around two more patrols until they found themselves in position to view the work area some one hundred fifty meters below them. The valley floor was flat, seemingly unnatural in its formation. O'Neill surmised that was Neja's doing. Recent blasting had taken place in one area, the land waiting to be hauled away and smoothed down into a workable terrain. Daniel and he skirted it on their way down the mountainside, stumbling over loose rubble that tumbled here and there as they crossed.

O'Neill checked his watch again. Their rate of travel had increased. They were now approaching the fifty-meter mark where they could begin tracking Avedra's signal. More of the rubble served as cover as they took a leisurely survey of the compound. The serpent guards patrolled in predictable patterns around the palace. O'Neill was tempted to take the complacent attitude toward the patrols but knew that could be a fatal mistake. The last thing he intended to be was bait. He and Daniel had to be ever vigilant of the patrols, now more than ever.

They hid behind a large pile of rubble near a wall of the palace. Daniel leaned his back against the hill and switched on the tracking device. As hoped, a red dot appeared on the display, indicating the device was detecting Avedra's signal.

To O'Neill's frustration, the tracker showed Avedra within the bowels palace, not among the work crews as Freya had suggested he would be. "Of course not," he mumbled.

"Looks like they've got him in some sort of cell," Jackson whispered. "He's moving a little, though. Probably not tied up."

O'Neill sighed, studying the readout. "I suppose that's the good part?"

Jackson nodded ahead of them. "It is if you consider that squad moving straight for us the bad part."

O'Neill saw it – a squad of six serpent guards approached in formation, staff weapons vertical and unsuspecting. There was nowhere for Jackson and O'Neill to hide. They were as covered as they were going to get. Unfortunately, they knew it would not be enough. The squad was bearing down on them faster than there was time to think.

Jack heard Daniel hold his breath. He found himself doing the same as the guards approached ever closer. It was possible the darkness would shield them enough against the seeking eyes of the squad. Jackson closed down the tracker so the light of the display would not reveal their location.

Daniel withdrew the nine-millimeter from his side while O'Neill removed the safety from his FN/P90 assault rifle. If they were going to die, it would be with a fight at least. If anything, they might buy enough time to make it back into the hills. By then, hopefully, Teal'c and Carter would see the battle and join in to give them a snowball's chance in hell of living to fight another day.

The patrol continued to approach, still in formation and seemingly unaware of the two intruders before them. O'Neill and Jackson lay dead still, trying their damnedest to look like terrain. What O'Neill wouldn't have given for a bunker above his head, but the United States Air Force had not yet devised a way to fit one into a field pack.

The squad remained in formation as they continued to bear down on O'Neill and Jackson. Only at the last moment did the squad turn ninety degrees, one row at a time. There was a visible shift in the tension in Jackson's shoulders as they moved on. O'Neill could feel his own heart skipping a few beats at that very last moment.

All the attention paid to the serpent guards in front of them left their backs unguarded. It was a controlled surprise when O'Neill felt the cold metal of a staff weapon placed squarely against the back of his neck. His back stiffened at the threat. For a brief moment, he thought of turning and emptying his magazine into the attacker. The old adage that discretion was the better part of valor made him decide otherwise.

Looking over at Daniel, he found that the archaeologist was equally held at bay by a weapon. In fact, there were many weapons trained on the two men. O'Neill did what was expected of him and held up his hands in surrender. Weapons and packs were confiscated as the guards moved in on them. Brought roughly to his feet by his collar, he was pushed and pulled toward the palace entrance.

The palace was dimmed on the outside with only sporadic lamps along the passages to light footpaths. The number of guards appeared to increase, probably alerted to watch for additional intruders. Their numbers were higher than Freya had suggested, but not to O'Neill's surprise. She had not been right about anything so far except the name of the planet. SG-1 was on its own, but at least the Tok'ra were out of the picture of operations for the time being.

O'Neill looked up at the ornately decorated building, eerily reminded of the others he'd seen just like it. Usually, being inside one was not a good thing. Too many powerful people had this kind of taste in home decorating, and none of the good guys seemed to come out in one piece after entering. The Tok'ra had underestimated Neja's abilities.

"Lord Neja will be pleased to see you," the Jaffa leading them said.

"Oh, hey – we can't wait, ourselves," O'Neill said in retort. "Heard he puts on one hell of a party."

"Silence!" the Jaffa admonished in a loud voice.

As they entered the palace, the lights became subtle, even pleasant. What was not pleasant was the constant prodding in the back by staff weapons that O'Neill was certain would be leaving a few bruises. He had the urge to bite back, but that might have only gotten his head blown off with a single shot. Daniel was more cooperative, though O'Neill could see the unabashed hatred in his eyes for the enemy that had captured them. How the doctor had changed over the course of one year was almost frightening. Gone was the sense of wonder and adventure. Daniel had grown up into a capable explorer who had cast aside his idealism for practicality. They were dealing with the enemy, and no amount of diplomacy would change that.

Something was not right about the interior of the palace, and O'Neill sensed Daniel was thinking the same thing. Where were the rings? Where were the personnel? Their footfalls were a flat sound that didn't travel far. The inside was warm and humid, no climate control in effect. Had someone forgotten to close the doors at night? They walked along in what he thought were repeating squares, as though their trek was meant to appear long instead of actually going somewhere. O'Neill filed that fact away with the rest, ceasing to fight the rough instructions given to him by the Goa'uld.

The smell of food was in the air. It was good food, at that. Meat, something sweet, and the smell of perfumed wax burning. Another hard push to the back and O'Neill was sent through the doorway to a main chamber. The door was one he could have sworn they passed before, but he said nothing. Instead, he proceeded inside as ordered with Daniel in tow. They passed through another doorway and found themselves inside an even larger chamber where the smell of food was strongest.

Seated on the far side of the room in a throne of sorts was Neja, just as Freya's picture show had presented him in the briefing. He did not look nearly as menacing as the other system lords O'Neill had seen in his time with the SGC. Neja was more casual, more laid back and at ease with intruders than others had been.

The party continued toward him. When they were in proximity, the Jaffa kneeled before Neja, casting his eyes down in respect, or perhaps it was fear.

"Lord Neja, we kept vigil as you ordered. These intruders were found hiding outside near the compound."

Neja, seated lazily in his throne, sat there a moment and studied the scene before him. Then he spoke quietly. "And have you identified these men?"

The Jaffa raised his eyes now. "We have, my lord. They are of Earth."

A sly smile crept upon the lord's face. "Earth? How interesting. What else have you learned?"

"They are of SG-1, just as you predicted, my lord."

The smile grew broader now, more arrogant. "Have they been checked for weapons?"

"They have, my lord. We have confiscated everything."

Neja sat there a moment more, unmoving and still. He then stood up quickly and stepped down off the throne toward them. "Excellent!" he said jovially. "Then we can begin feasting. Return to the hills and see if you can find the rest of Colonel O'Neill's team. There should be at least two more. When you find them, bring them here."

"As you wish, my lord," the Jaffa responded.

"Leave us now to feast. We have much to discuss," Neja said, directing his comment to O'Neill.

The Jaffa turned and left the room, followed by his unit of guards. There were two at the door to keep Neja safe against attack, though. O'Neill and Jackson found themselves standing in the middle of an empty room with a long dining table. Neja offered it to them.

"Come," he said, "it is time to eat and talk."

"About?" O'Neill said quizzically, speaking for the first time since being brought into the palace.

Neja stood still, contemplating. Then he smiled again. "People, Colonel O'Neill. It's important we talk about people tonight."

He offered chairs at the table to Daniel and Jack again. This time, they accepted the offer and reluctantly took their places. Neja took the richly carved wooden seat at the head of the table, adjusting his golden robes as he sat down, with Jackson and O'Neill flanking him.

The smell of food was intoxicating. O'Neill could not help but to compare it to the commissary food at the SGC. It smelled wonderful. However bad Neja was, the man had good sense when it came to meal preparation. A smell akin to roast beef filled the air. Outside, the storm raged with clap after clap of thunder.

"Are you hungry, Colonel?" Neja asked politely.

How familiar those words were. His mind flashed back to Iraq where he was asked those same questions over and over by his captors. They ate whole meals in front of him while he starved for food and water. As if the beatings were not enough, they had tortured his physical need for sustenance.

"No thanks. I ate before the last time I killed a system lord. I hate fighting on a full stomach, if you know what I mean."

"Ah, I'm a system lord now, am I?" Neja said more than asked with amusement. "My list of accolades continues to grow with each visitor. Soon, they may be calling me 'the creator'."

He picked up a goblet in front of him and took a long draw from it. He hesitated before putting the cup back on the table, looking over at Daniel. "You are very quiet. Not at all what I expected, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel's face was still stony. "I guess I don't have much to say," he answered flatly.

Neja sighed. "You condemn me before you even know me. I have not wronged you, have I? You know nothing about me other than what the Tok'ra have told you. I would think by now you'd have learned that the truth is not always forthcoming with them." He looked back at O'Neill. "Surely you, Colonel, have come to realize that?"

"I know what I've seen here so far."

"And that is?"

"That little slavery thing you have going outside," O'Neill said, thumbing over his shoulder. "How much you paying in labor around here?"

Neja shrugged. "Building an empire is a dirty business, Colonel. All of the great empires in history have come at the expense of peasant labor. I'm simply carrying on the tradition."

"And Granthem is okay with this?" Daniel asked.

"Granthem is nothing more than a tool to me. He does as I will, and he serves a purpose in my quest for my empire. Once I am through with him, he will be released."

Daniel's anger rose. "When? A thousand years from now? Maybe two?"

Neja gave a slight smile. "When I am finished with him, Doctor Jackson. You see, I make the rules in this empire. I decide who lives and who dies, who is captive and who is free. While your idealism is admirable, it is also futile."

At that, two young girls appeared in the far doorway holding platters of food. Neja raised his hand and motioned for them to approach. They deposited the carefully balanced load on the table and served the three men their dinners. The food was undeniably tempting. Something O'Neill guessed was a steak of some sort sat in large portion on the plate in front of him surrounded by exotic vegetables in an array of colors.

The girl serving O'Neill kept her eyes down, never looking up at him. She was pretty, probably thirteen or so. Her long black hair tied back in a cloth band. Her pale skin gave her eyes a tired and sunken look. She looked sad, defeated. Most of all, she looked afraid. It was clear she feared Neja, never even glancing in his direction. Her hands shook slightly as she finished serving their meals and quietly slipped back through the doorway.

O'Neill sat back arrogantly in his chair. "Did you tell them you were a god yet?"

The room echoed with Neja's hearty laugh. "Oh, come now. Even I do not go that far." He calmed. "No, Colonel, I do it the old fashioned way. I use fear of death and pain to motivate my labor. It's much easier than keeping up the façade of a deity."

"Don't know too many magic tricks, do you?"

"As I said, I have no need for them. Human beings are little more than cattle who move about where they are told and do what is demanded of them. They lack the ability to fight for their freedom."

Jackson pushed the plate in front of him away. "Well, if they escaped, you'd kill them anyway, right?"

"And thus the theory comes full circle. Very good, Doctor Jackson. You are beginning to understand."

"Except," O'Neill interjected, raising an index finger, "that Doctor Jackson and I are both human. So, it kind of begs the question as to why we're invited to dinner while the rest of the folks around here are pretty much starving to death. Aren't we cattle, too?"

"Of course you are," Neja answered matter-of-factly. "The difference is that you have something I want. To get what one wants, sometimes one must break from hard philosophy to attain it."

O'Neill furrowed his brow. "So, this all boils down to eating with cows?"

Neja took another drink from the goblet. "No, it 'boils down', as you say, to you telling me what I want to know."

"And what could that be?" O'Neill was tiring of the game, and he did not mask the weariness in his voice.

"It should come as no surprise that I want your iris codes."

Now it was O'Neill's turn to smile. "Been there, done that."

"Ah, yes," Neja said rising from his chair. "You have been through Apophis's version of torture. The Blood of Sokar – highly overrated in my opinion. Your team is too stubborn for such tactics."

He walked to the center of the room and motioned to one of the guards. The guard turned and left through the same door the girl had used as though to retrieve something at the command.

"Going to beat it out of us?" Jackson asked.

"I had considered that option, but that infernal idealism of yours would have just gotten in the way again. So, I began considering what your greatest weaknesses were. I decided that your ability to endure pain for the preservation of nobility was, well, rather noble. However, it would not get me what I wanted."

"We'll never give you the codes," O'Neill said adamantly.

"We'll see, Colonel."

With that, the girl who served O'Neill's meal was dragged in by the guard Neja had summoned. She was dragged across the floor, held aloft by her arm. There was sheer terror in her eyes.

O'Neill rose from his chair in alarm. "This is between us, Neja" he said. "Leave the girl out of it."

"Fear of pain and death as a motivator, Colonel. I told you that before, and that is exactly what will happen now. Not to you, but to her. Your cooperation in this matter determines whether she lives or dies."

"For God's sake, she's a child!" Jackson shouted, rising from his chair.

Neja was calm but direct. "No, Doctor Jackson, she is your motivation. There are over one hundred children in this community just like her. We'll go through every one of them if necessary until you reveal the codes. You wouldn't want the deaths of one hundred children on your conscience, would you? Such a heavy burden it would be for you humans to bear."

"You can't do that!" Jackson took two steps toward Neja then stopped immediately at the sound of a staff weapon opening and energizing. Daniel stopped short, realizing the guards would shoot him to protect their master. He stood there in a standoff with Neja and his troops.

The storm outside raged on with louder claps of thunder that rumbled in the floor. A loud crack cut through the silence followed by a deafening roar. All in the room flinched at the sudden sound. A bolt of lightning had hit incredibly close to the palace followed by a loud explosion. A rash of frantic voices filtered in from the hallway outside the dining area.

Neja was visibly concerned. He turned to the guard holding the girl. "Take her away and report to me what has happened."

The guard nodded and left quickly, dragging the terrified girl with him. For the first time since they had been brought to the room, O'Neill thought Neja looked lost, even worried. The explosion was loud, and a distant rumble could still be heard groaning in the distance.

The guard returned a moment later. "My lord, lightning has struck the weapons complex. There are overload alarms sounding."

Neja's eyes closed in frustration. He sighed heavily, his frustration mounting. When he opened his eyes again, he said, "Take these men to a holding cell and convene the constructs in the main chamber."

"As you wish, my lord," the guard said.

The guards moved in quickly and took custody of O'Neill and Jackson, leading them out of the dining chamber and into yet another hall. This one, though, was damp and laden with dirt. There were no shining surfaces in the part of the palace. The floor became mud beneath their feet.

They were quickly ushered into a cell near the end of the hall. As they entered, O'Neill saw a man sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. His legs were drawn up as he rested his forearms on them. It was no surprise that he was dirty. The entire cell was becoming one big mud pit with the rain leaking in from the walls.

The guards slammed the door shut, leaving the three men alone. Daniel walked to the wall and hoisted himself up to look out the small window. Outside, workers were running toward the teardrop complex as the emergency klaxons sounded in the night.

"Jack, take a look at this," Daniel said, dropping back down to the floor.

O'Neill moved to the window and pulled himself up to the bars. At first, he saw the confusion with the people running toward the teardrop. Then he saw the bright flash from within the shell. It lit the teardrop up in a blue glow. The light subsided, then was followed a few seconds later by another pulse. A hum began filling the air. The hair on O'Neill's arms stood on end. A highly charged electrical field was building.

He let go of the bars immediately and dropped to the floor once more. "Get down – it's gonna blow," he said to the two men. As he lay on the floor of the cell, he realized they were in an inch of water.

O'Neill closed his eyes. "Of course," he said, wincing in preparation to be electrocuted.

A bright flash and a deafening explosion filled the small cell as the teardrop overloaded. O'Neill was uncertain if he was still alive. He felt alive, but maybe that was a cruel joke being played on him. They should be dead. They should all be dead by the electrical current generated by the complex. Instead, only a tingle was felt.

O'Neill did a quick count of his fingers and found them all to be right where they should be. He looked at Daniel who was very still and afraid to move.

"Okay, what was that?" Daniel asked quickly.

"I think Neja's popsicle just exploded," O'Neill answered, getting to his feet.

He moved back to the window and pulled himself up again to get a better look outside. Across the compound lay scattered and burned bodies. Most of them were workers who had been running to get to the malfunctioning weapon. Flashes of light still emanated from inside the teardrop, casting a blue glow on the compound.

Jack lowered himself back to the cell floor. "We may have just caught a break. Looks like the inside of that thing is fried."

Daniel stood up. "Which is good for us, but we're still locked up. We have to find a way out of here."

"There is no way," said the man in the corner. "Believe me, I have tried."

Both men turned toward the voice. The man was in the process of sitting up, having hit the floor with O'Neill's warning. "And you are?" O'Neill asked.

"Probably the reason you are here."

O'Neill and Jackson glanced at one another. "Avedra?" Jackson asked.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Avedra said in a tired voice, leaning back against the wall.

"Irony, my ass!" O'Neill exclaimed. "You weren't where you were supposed to be!"

Avedra rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me, general."

"Colonel!"

"Whatever. It's not like I begged to be thrown in here."

"Hey, the least the Tok'ra could have done was tell us we were going to have to infiltrate a castle."

Avedra rubbed at his eyelids. "Palace," he said quietly.

Daniel gave a little wave of his shoulders. "I was going to say 'fortress', but that might be overstating the matter."

"It's certainly no straw hut." Avedra lowered his hands from his eyes and looked at them curiously. "No one told you of the construction here?"

O'Neill's sarcasm was reaching its peak. "Perhaps next time you and the Tok'ra can get on the same page before you send us out here. I'm sure you can understand why we don't trust you guys."

"Yes, I see your point," Avedra conceded. "In any case, we're locked in the bottom cells of a palace, which is rather ironic. Neja can barely afford to feed his troops, yet he can build this with all the ammenities."

Daniel leaned against the wall and folded his arms. "I think he forgot to send the decorator in here."

O'Neill calmed his voice. "So, what about that big blue lightning thing out there?"

"That, Colonel," Avedra said, "is what should have you worried."

"Before or after it blew up?"

"It does not matter. He has already made enough developmental progress on this prototype to build others in a fraction of the time."

Daniel sat down on the floor, finding a spot that did not have too much standing water. "What does it do, exactly?"

"I still do not understand the entire process behind it, but I have observed its construction and design for many days. It uses a combination of minerals found on Beman to create an energy field. Devices inside the complex focus this energy into a flat beam. Once the Stargate is activated and a wormhole established, the beam can then be directed through the gate to the other side, regardless of the origin of the traveler."

"What happens on the other side?" Daniel asked.

"Matter transferrence," he continued. "Energy particles are sent through the wormhole to a destination and reassembled. With it, Neja could transport entire weapons systems and strike at his enemies without ever leaving the comfort of this world."

"Kinda sucks that he doesn't work for the good guys, eh?" O'Neill quipped.

Outside, another torrent of rain began. Water seeped down to the floor of the cell. The air filled suddenly with energy. The three men instinctively lay flat on the floor. A bright flash and a thunderous explosion filled their senses. When it was over, they cautiously sat up, the scent of ozone hanging thickly.

"That was interesting," O'Neill said to no one in particular. He hoisted himself up to the window again. "It's still glowing."

Avedra stood now and moved to the window. O'Neill stepped aside and gave him room. The young man drew his head up to the bars and looked out. "I think it is overloading. The controls may have been damaged by the lightning that struck it."

"Now there's irony for you," Jackson said. "A lightning machine being struck by lightning."

Avedra lowered himself to the floor. He turned to the two men. "You know my name, but I do not know yours."

Daniel held up his hand. "I'm Daniel Jackson of SG-1, and this is Colonel Jack O'Neill."

He accepted the handshake. "I am pleased to meet you but regret the circumstances."

O'Neill felt his anger at the situation beginning to subside. It would not do them any good to be angry. They had to think of a way to get out of their cell and back to the shuttle. "We've been in worse," he offered. "Look, we need to get out of here. Anyone have any ideas?"

"I am sorry, but I am at a loss," Avedra said shaking his head. "I have been here for days, moved from place to place. The corridor to this cell is the only way out. Of this I am sure."

Jack leaned up against the cell wall but pulled away when his shirt began to soak through. He brushed off the grit from the wall that stuck on his sleeve. That made him stop. He put his hand on the wall, feeling the sandstone roll beneath his fingers. He smiled inwardly.

Cells, like cookies, were made to be broken.