A heavy knock upon the stout wooden door shattered the silence that had covered the room like a heavy blanket. The sole occupant looked up from where he sat, the flickering light of the crackling fire casting countless dancing shadows upon the walls and the oak portal. From within the depths of the plush, ornate chair, he grinned wickedly, savoring the sweet feeling of victory. After their conversation hours before, the other outside the door had protested such a meeting in the most vehement of terms. However, the man in the chair had been confident even then that the other would show, in spite of the indignant rejection given at the time.
"Enter," the man in the chair called out simply.
The iron handle creaked loudly in answer, the door slowly swinging open with a groan. A robed individual darted into the room, wearing a large cowl that hid his face. The seated man smirked at the sight of the other, regarding him with slight disdain.
"Come now," he chided the newcomer. "Is such melodrama really necessary?" he asked, referencing the man's attire and his stealthy entrance. "It's not as though we have anything to hide," he added ironically, his voice full of cynical amusement as he watched the newcomer close the door behind him.
The other stood at his full height and regarded the seated man quietly from within the shadowy depths of his hood. He was obviously a tall man and would likely tower over the one in the chair if they were to stand side by side. "Have a care, Lord Hafgan," the tall man said with a cold voice. "You may have profited by Lord Arawn's death, but his demise was the Queen's warning to us all. Even you should have been able to discern that."
Hafgan chuckled at this, glancing away from the man to stare into the fire once more. The cloaked man continued. "She knows that you were just as keen to challenge her as he had been. Now that he's been put aside, she may yet turn her vengeful eye towards you." He paused, then sneered, "An eye that is now also filled with Origin and the powers of the Ori..."
The man in the chair turned back and barked harshly at the other. "Then why did you ask me here to talk, Lord Teranis, if I am so marked for death?" he asked bitterly. "Why risk your own life with this clandestine meeting, if you fear her so?"
Stepping forward, the tall man pulled back his hood to reveal a scarred, disfigured face, framed in jet-black hair. The man scowled at at Lord Hafgan, a glower reflected in the dark eyes that would have bored holes into the man in the chair.
Once before, that face would have been considered handsome, his hawkish and stern features looked as though they had been chiseled out of marble. Now, however, his countenance was a horror to look upon. His skin was scarred and disfigured, as though it had been burned and melted. A long scar ran the length of his one cheek, and his one eye drooped. Now his countenance was a sickening mockery of the handsome features that had been there once before but was now no more.
When Teranis spoke, his voice was caked with hatred and bitterness. "Because when that bitch branded me for my failure at Daraka but three days ago, I forsook being her pet and found my own thirst for revenge..."
Jackson charged down the hallway from the infirmary at a dead run. A sickening, panicky feeling knotted up inside of him, growing with every step. His mind was ravaged by the knowledge that at this very moment Teal'c and the men with him were under assault by the strange invaders. Frustration tore at the archaeologist. His legs couldn't carry him fast enough to where he wanted to be, and with each step the urgent need grew stronger and stronger.
"How many are there?" came the words of one of the SFs running with him, the question tearing Daniel from his thoughts.
Glancing over his shoulder, he momentarily made eye contact with the man whom had asked the question. "Six," the archaeologist answered quickly, adding between heavy breaths, "We're going up to level nineteen, we'll hit the armory there and continue up to sixteen."
As the three turned a corner, he quickly added, "Here, give me your radio." The SF who still had his didn't hesitate, tossing the device to Daniel. The archaeologist caught it without missing a beat. Turning it on, he dialed to channel six and listened anxiously.
A tense expression came over Daniel's face as he heard only a quiet hissing sound. He pursed his lips as a feeling of dread swept over him. Keying up the radio, he asked hastily, "Teal'c, what's going on??" As he spoke, the three came to the end of the corridor, turning and charging down the length of yet another hallway.
The three ran on in silence for several seconds. Suddenly the radio came to life with Mitchell's stressed voice, "he hasn't made contact since I gave him Vala's warning."
Just then, Daniel and the two with him reached the access tunnel. One of the two men immediately spun the wheel on the door, popping the hatch. Without hesitation, he swung the iron portal open and started to climb in. While the archaeologist waited, he keyed up and said into the radio, "Vala, can you see him or his men up on sixteen?"
After a moment's pause, he heard the raven-haired woman's voice answer. "No, Daniel," she said flatly, adding, "I saw them in a fire fight, but then I lost the feed from the camera." There was a pause and then she added with a worried tone, "I think it might have been destroyed in an explosion."
"Dammit!" Jackson cursed quietly to himself as the other man with him finished climbing in and started his ascent on the ladder. Keying up his radio again, he said, "Alright, we're on our way to nineteen, we've gotta hit the armory. We'll advise when we're ready to climb to level sixteen. I'll be listening on this channel in the meanwhile"
"Roger that, Daniel," Cam answered. Daniel clipped the radio to his belt and climbed in the hatch. As he did, he heard the Colonel continue, "Now that Vala's on the radio, I'm moving out with my teams. We're going to head up to sixteen and help Teal'c out." The archaeologist reached back and pulled the heavy metal door shut behind him, closing it with a heavy boom that resonated loudly throughout the tunnel.
As the echoes bounced through the confined space, the archaeologist immediately started to climb up the ladder. The metal of the ladder felt particularly cold in his hands as he gripped each rung in turn. The same tension he felt while running was even more pronounced now that the going was slower while he climbed. Within the tunnel there were even fewer lights than out in the hallway. Looking up, Daniel peered into the deep shadows. He was barely able to see the two SFs above him, their forms were almost completely hidden in the darkness.
The radio fell silent after the Colonel had finished speaking, but only for a moment. "That's not an option, Mitchell" came Vala's voice. The sound reverberated throughout the narrow enclosure, giving the woman's voice a strange, distorted sound. "The Goa'uld software seized control of the elevators shortly after I shut them down. What's worse, I'm locked out of that computer now, which greatly limits my options." Jackson pursed his lips at the grim news, but focused on just climbing, moving as quickly as he could.
Shortly after the raven-haired woman's transmission, the radio come back to life with Mitchell's voice. "I copy, Vala," he said wearily. There was a brief pause, and then the Colonel added, "have you made any progress in trying to break into the Goa'uld software?" The frustration in his voice was palpable, echoing the churning that Daniel felt in his gut as he continued to climb up through the depths of the dark tunnel.
No sooner had the radio fallen silent than it came to life again, this time with Vala's voice. "No, I haven't, Colonel," came her bitter reply, "and if you don't stop pestering me about it, I'm not going to have time to do so." Daniel couldn't help but grin as he heard her exasperated voice. In spite of the circumstances, he was glad to hear someone else on the receiving end of Vala's sharp tongue.
As he continued to climb, Jackson heard the sound of a hatch opening above him. He looked up at this, watching as he saw the first man climb out of the tunnel. The archaeologist quickened his pace, causing his one boot to slip on a rung, the sensation of gravity pulling him down filling him with panic. He instantly redoubled his grip upon the cold, metallic rings, readily stopping himself from what would have been a long trip to the bottom. Drawing in a deep breath, he continued the rest of the way at the same pace he had before until he reached the open hatch.
While he climbed out, the radio came to life again. "This is Landry. I've been in communication with Hammond, he's moving additional forces topside. Given the intruders we're now facing, I'm going to ask that his teams breach the mountain immediately."
Stepping out from the dark tunnel, Daniel took the hand offered to him by one of the two men standing outside, the other pulling him out of the hatch. "Thanks," Daniel said as he got his balance. Not wasting a moment, the three began to run down the hallway.
As they ran, they heard Mitchell's voice on the radio again, asking, "Any idea when we can expect the cavalry, sir?"
"Last I talked to Hammond, he said they'd be in place within the hour," Landry answered quickly. At the same time, Daniel and the two men with him turned yet another corner, running all the faster as they saw the door to the armory. They continued listening to the General's reply as the one SF swiped his badge and the three entered the room. "I expect I'll get a more aggressive estimate once I let him know of our current situation." As Landry's voice continued over the radio, Jackson and the two with him immediately started donning their tactical vests, grabbing for various weapons and pieces of equipment.
"I'm calling now," Landry continued. "The four of you keep after them. Stay on this frequency, we'll be monitoring from down here."
"Understood," came Mitchell's reply. Then the radio fell silent.
The Jackson and the two with him were now all armed with P-90s and sidearms, as well as grenades. "Let's go," Daniel said and the three quickly left the room, darting back down the hallway to return to the hatch. As they ran, the archaeologist hoped desperately that they weren't too late.
Artix walked forward quietly, holding his rifle-like weapon with an ease and comfort that spoke to the years he had been in his profession. The darkened corridors of the SGC were deathly silent as he and the four with him went forward from the holding cell, the stillness thick and oppressive.
Given that this floor seemed to be purposed for incarceration, the old mercenary had expected to meet heavy resistance. He was surprised by the complete absence of any. But then, he reasoned, perhaps the Tauri did not hold prisoners at the volume or regularity typical of the Gao'uld or Lucien Alliance.
The six continued through the shadowy darkness, the only light coming from the four rifles held by Artix and his confederates and the distantly placed emergency lamps at the tops of the walls. As they walked, the elder mercenary watched the four before him with a steely gaze, considering them each in turn.
Kethmal still lead the way, occasionally consulting the computer strapped to his arm while he held the Tau'ri pistol ready, for what good the small trinket would do him. Silently, Artix wondered why the Goa'uld did not or produce some other weapon or at least don a hand device. Although the days of the System Lords were done, many Goa'uld still relied on their ancient all-purpose tool, which was a ready aide in not only combat but other situations. The old warrior furrowed his brow as he considered this, wondering if Kethmal really was an idiot or if he had other tricks up his sleeve.
A step behind of the Goa'uld was Delmas, one of the three young mercenaries Artix had brought with him. The younger was keenly watching Kethmal, keeping a sharp eye out for signs of treachery, as Artix had ordered hm to. Whatever tricks were in the mind of that parasite, Artix decided, there would be ample warning with Delmas watching him. In spite of his youth, the mercenary was a quick-witted, able fighter, and not one who was easily duped by deception.
Next was the former prisoner that Kethmal had liberated before their arrival, one of the fighters Artix had trained and taken to Dakara in the doomed job that had ultimately spawned this effort. The old mercenary gave this one little thought. He was as much fodder as his fellows had been. In spite of how well their training had gone, Artix knew there was little of substance that could be done in the space of only three months. To build a true fighting force would have required years of training and experience in the field.
But then, that wasn't what his sponsor had seemed interested in. As different as she and her followers seemed from their kin, some things just never changed.
Behind the three came Brakxis, who walked with an air of contempt that was grating on Artix's nerves. The brazen youth's arrogance had seemed exceptionally audacious to the elder back on the cargo ship. The only reason Artix had been selected the younger to come on this job was because he had known the man's' father. As such, he expected great things from this one.
Instead, Artix had been found a petulant youth that was not worthy of his sire's name. He knew shortly after starting their journey that unlike the other two, this one could not be trusted. The old mercenary also knew that he could not take his eyes from the younger for a moment, lest a knife find its way into his back. It was a pity, the elder lamented. The youth's father would have been supremely disappointed that this fool that was his seed, were he alive to see it.
Then again, Artix reasoned, perhaps there was something of the father in the son. After all, when all was said and done, wasn't it because of an arrogant and foolish choice that he had killed the youth's father?
Shrugging off his philosophical pondering, Artix looked over his shoulder to glance at Yarvin, who brought up the rear. The man was slightly older than the other two young mercenaries, and had accompanied the elder warrior on many jobs over the past half a decade. There wasn't another that Artix would dare trust with his back.
The five moved quickly and quietly through the corridors, putting as much distance as they could between the four corpses in the hallway and the holding room, winding their way towards the lift that would take them down and to their ultimate target. As they made their way through the many passages, Artix wondered idly when they would encounter the first waves of resistance. Such a heavily fortified facility would doubtlessly have a considerable force at its disposal, and he was surprised that with all of the mistakes made by Kethmal that they had not encountered more opposition yet.
They came to yet another corner. Delmas peaked around to ensure the way was clear, as he had at each previous juncture. Artix frowned as his man paused a moment longer than he should have. The younger then looked back at the elder with dark eyes and held up a wide open hand with all five of his fingers spread.
The aged mercenary frowned, but nodded, readying his weapon, as did the rest. He made a single, sweeping motion with his hand and then turned off the light on his weapon, an action mirrored by his three fellows. The four then quickly moved around the corner, spreading out wide in a line. As they emerged into the next hallway, they began rapidly firing their weapons down the length of the corridor. Almost at once the far end of the hallway erupted in a roar of machine gun fire as a hail of bullets flew at them in response, but the weapons fire was unsteady. Clearly they had surprised these five.
As he repeatedly discharged his weapon, Artix looked down the dark depths of the distance to see five men. Four were Tau'ri and the fifth was an exceptionally tall, brawny man, who was dark-skinned and bald with what like a gold emblem on his forehead. Of course it must be Teal'c, the elder mercenary realized, even as he fired the shot that fell one of the men to the Jaffa's left, the energy discharge from his rifle cutting the man's leg like it were butter.
He heard the Jaffa yelling at his comrades whom all immediately started to pull backwards. "Back", Artix likewise barked at his own men as the bullets started to whiz dangerously close to them. Their enemy had recovered from their initial surprise and would not continue to be so careless with their weapons fire.
Continuing the whithering assault with their energy weapons, the four moved back behind the cover of the corner. Delmas stood at the corner and Brakxis knelt to his side, both firing their energy weapons down the hallway. Artix noted that the machine gun fire lessened considerably. The deafening, baritone sound of the Jaffa's larger weapon had fallen silent, as had the smaller weapons fire of the fallen man.
Glancing over at Yarvin, he said simply, "Finish them."
The younger nodded, hefting his rifle which was considerably larger than those the Artix and the other two carried. The weapon was a good foot and a half longer, and had more than one barrel on it. Moving towards the corner, he tapped Delmas on the shoulder. The man pulled away from the corner without a word. Yarvin assumed the position behind Brakxis that the other man had just evacuated, and leveled his rifle at the other corner where the Tau'ri were positioned. The other before him continued to kneel and fire his weapon relentlessly, either unaware or unconcerned by the activity behind him.
Looking through the sophisticated sight on the top of the weapon, Yarvin quickly centered his viewfinder not on the three men peaking around the corner, but on the corner itself. He wordlessly pulled the trigger and a small rocked exploded forth from one of the barrels on the weapon. Brakxis grinned as he watched the projectile streak forward, hissing down the length of the corridor to strike the edge of the wall with an explosive force. Chunks of concrete sprayed for several yards, along with showers of dust and debris as the three men screamed out their dying breaths.
In the silence that followed, Artix looked at the prisoner that Kethmal had liberated. "You," he said, "and you, Brakxis," looking at the other mercenary as he left his position and approached. "Go down the hall and ensure that the threat has been eliminated. We will wait here and provide supporting fire if you encounter any survivors."
Brakxis nodded and grinned with a conceited look as he glanced at the other and nodded his head towards the length of hallway. The former prisoner glanced at Artix hesitantly for a moment, then proceeded after Brakxis without a word, holding the small Tau'ri hand weapon ready. The little pistol looked foolish in comparison to the larger and more elaborate weapon that Brakxis carried. Artix grinned slightly as the two slowly made their way down the length of hallway.
Yarvin came back from the corner even as Delmas resumed his position, reading his rifle to support the others. Yarvin glanced sideways at Kethmal, who was standing a little ways away from the other three. As the young mercenary glanced back at Artix, he saw that the elder warrior's eyes glancing away from the Goa'uld. The younger smirked, realizing that even through all the excitement, his mentor hadn't given the parasite a moment's opportunity, keeping him under watch while the others finished dealing with this trivial bit of interference.
"Of course you sent them down there knowing that the Jaffa had not been caught in the blast," Yarvin said quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, the younger saw Delmas glance back over his shoulder at his words and snicker.
"Of course," Artix said simply. "Consider it a test for the both of them." Yarvin smirked at his mentor's words, glancing back over to share a knowing look with Delmas. He then moved back into position with his fellow, assuming the kneeling position that Brakxis had vacated.
Suddenly a quiet beeping began to emanate from Kethmal, the computer console he wore on his forearm flashing with muted colors. All eyes turned with irritation towards the Goa'uld.
"Silence that device," the elder warrior warned with a dangerous tone, raising his rifle slightly.
The Goa'uld quickly reached up with his other hand and tapped on the display, instantly silencing the device. "Someone has locked down the lift," he said in an astounded voice.
"Can you restore it?" the elder mercenary asked in a tense voice, glaring at Kethmal, his expression growing pensive as he considered the implications of this action against them.
Chuckling, the Goa'uld answered in its usual throaty voice, "Of course." He tapped a few more times on the device, and the red icon that had been flashing vanished. Several lines of Goa'uld writing appeared, and he tapped a few more icons. Again more text appeared, and he smiled malevolently upon seeing them. "I have restored the lift and have also locked out all access to the computer that controls them." Artix nodded, and the four turned their attention back to the adjacent corridor.
They waited in silence as the seconds ticked by. Suddenly, down the length of the other corridor, they heard the sound of a metal object striking the floor and bouncing a few times, accompanied by the sound of Brakxis and the other shouting in panic. Delmas and Yarvin watched the two as they scrambled to get away, just as an ear-splitting explosion shook the hallway.
The two continued to look on without emotion as the scene unfolded at a distance before them. They readied their weapons, waiting in silence. At the edges of the dust cloud that resulted, they could see the shape of one of their fellows limping along, the other no where to be seen. Suddenly a hail of bullets flew from the far end of the hallway as a loud, staccato machine-gun clatter was accompanied by the heavy bellowing of Teal'c's larger weapon.
The two mercenaries fired without hesitation, the loud shrieking sound of their weapons filling the hallway again. The bullet fire from Teal'c's weapons and some of their own energy fire cut the stumbling man to pieces, his body falling like a limp rag. Delmas and Yarvin didn't hesitate, continuing to fire mercilessly, spraying energy bolts throughout the dust cloud, as neither was able to see clearly through the haze.
Suddenly the machine gun fire stopped. Almost immediately, the two mercenaries silenced their own weapons and waited, looking down the hallway without moving. They waited for many moments, but no sound could be heard. The moments turned into seconds, and soon the seconds into minutes. All was still and silent.
"Proceed," Artix said with finality. With that, the four ventured into the hallway.
Halfgan looked up at Teranis with a cool eye and an emotionless face, having seen the man's disfigurement before. While others in their world might have been shocked and repulsed by it, Halfgan knew better. The outward appearance of men was of little consequence. Rather, what was important was their strength and power. He knew that Teranis had enough of both to still be a force to recon with, in spite of the branding that their queen had inflicted upon him.
In fact, it could easily be said that Teranis was even more dangerous now because of it.
The two lords looked at each other in silence for a moment before Halfgan answered, "Such rage is understandable, but surely will be your end if you do not control it." His voice was harsh and condescending, as he began to regard the other with a contemptuous eye. "Indeed, I begin to wonder if I should have approached you at all. Your recent discipline at the hands of our Mistress makes you a marked man. She would suspect you first above all to seek your revenge upon her for what she has done." He paused, smirking wryly, "and you are a fool to be seeking it so freely this quickly."
Teranis regarded the other with a stony gaze. He was silent for a moment before answering. "Who is the greater fool, Halfgan? Myself, for seeking revenge so quickly," he paused, leering at the man in the chair before adding, "or you for not thinking of such a thing before you sought my help in overthrowing her?" The man in the chair listened in silence, his face unchanged by the other's' words.
The two stared intently at each other, the only sound coming from the fire pit. The wood burning within snapped and popped, and a loud crack could be heard from a log splitting as it was consumed by the flames. Teranis spoke.
"Of course I know the risks of moving against her so quickly," he said in a dangerous voice, pausing for a moment. "But she forced us into action when she swore her allegiance to the Ori." He spoke with a cold voice, one laced with an underlying fury.
Halfgan stared up in silence at the other, saying nothing for some time. Finally he nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Lord Teranis," he answered simply. "Which is why I asked you to join me here tonight."
"Dammit, someone get those lights back up!" Dr. Lam yelled as the OR plunged into darkness. A heart-stopping panic seized Jack's heart as he heard her muffled shout through the glass, the intercom failing along with the lights.
The General immediately started to sweat as his breath suddenly came in quick, shallow gasps. The resulting silence from the loss of the sound system had left the observation deck in complete silence. All he could hear was his own breath and the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.
As he continued to watch in the pitch black, he did see a few lights on instruments in the room below. In spite of the lights going down, the various machines and instruments being used on the two operations still seemed to be running. But Jack couldn't hear anything that was going on.
For what seemed like an eternity, Jack waited.
Finally, the lights came up again, along with the intercom.
"Finally!" Jack heard Dr. Lam say as the speakers crackle to life, the room filled once more with sweet, blessed light. Jack could see that both Carol and Dr. Challis still had their instruments inside of Sam, in fact it looked like they hadn't moved at all since the lights went down. "Now what the hell is..." she started to say in a worried voice.
"Shit! Sally, I need a clamp on that bleeder!" Carol shouted in a panicked voice.
"Carol, watch for that other one by your left hand..." came Dr. Challis' voice.
"I see it, Jeffery" she answered tensely. Jack's heart leapt into his throat as he watched the two work feverishly, listening as the metallic clink of instruments being picked up and discarded again filled his ears. He heard the din of chatter as the nurses started talking again, informing the doctors of Sam's blood pressure and condition. It was several minutes before he realized that his knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the back of his chair.
"Okay, I think I've got it," he finally heard Dr. Lam say with a ragged voice. The General had no idea how much time had passed, but it had to have been nearly twenty minutes.
O'Neill watched as Dr. Challis leaned in closer, pausing what he was doing. "Looks good, Doctor," he answered. Returning his focus to his own work, he answered, "I'm just about done on this one, here."
"That looks like the last of them," Carol said, looking intently as she poked around in Sam's gut.
"I think you might be right, Carol," Jeffery said as he tossed his instrument into the tray for dirty tools. "Well, let's get this little lady sewn up."
Jack breathed a heavy sigh of relief, his head coming down to rest on his folded arms upon the back of his chair. He felt exhausted as the tension drained out of his body.
"Greg, how's Corporeal Nelson?" Jeffery asked while he and Dr. Lam started to close up.
The other surgeon hesitated before answering. "Not bad," he finally said, "I'm just about done, actually."
There was again silence as the people below continued their work. After some time, the surgeons finally finished, instructing the nurses to close up the operations as Dr. Challis had when he finished working on Vala. In the course of about ten minutes, the nurses had finished closing the patients and had readied them to depart the room.
Jack waited until they were wheeling Sam out on her table. Then he quickly left through the same door that Daniel had, rushing out just as fast as the archaeologist had.
At Artix's word, the three moved forward, making their way down the hallway quickly and silently. As the dust settled from the explosion, they saw that the Jaffa was not laying dead as they had expected. Delmas and Yarvin shared a worried glance as Artix narrowed his eyes dangerously. This one was a formidable opponent, the old fighter realized, as good as his reputation that preceded him. Pausing only for a moment, they continued until they came upon the bodies of their fallen comrades. Each looked down at the two with a detached stare.
The body of the former prisoner was grisly sight, laying contorted in a large pool of its own blood. Countless bullet wounds and energy burns covered the body and his face was a mask of horrific pain.
By contrast, the other body was crumpled near the blast center of the grenade that the Jaffa had tossed out in his assault. Delmas and Yarvin quickly trained their weapons on the corner, waiting expectantly for another assault by the Jaffa. Walking over and kneeling down, Artix grabbed Brakxis' shoulder and rolled him on his back. The man's body bore countless wounds from the blast, but they were more minor than would have been expected. The armor he wore had absorbed most of the blast. Nonetheless, the multitude of injuries he bore clearly had a combined effect to be life threatening. Artix figured it was a matter of minutes before the man died.
Brakxis breathed in weakly, coughing quietly and spitting up blood as he did. He looked up into Artix's face regarding the man with a mixture of surprise and fear. The elder mercenary smirked at this, regarding the arrogant youth disdainfully. "You see what your petulance gains you, young one?" Artix asked in a whisper. The man stared up at the old man wordlessly, his breathing labored. "So the question that is left to me is whether to let you live or not."
Brakxis eyes flew wide at this, clearly he had already thought he was doomed for a quick death. He gasped in muted shock as he stared up at Artix, wondering if the old man was just toying with him before he passed out of this world. "I will spare your life," the elder said quietly, "if you swear an oath binding yourself to me. You shall do me no harm, and heed my words without question." He raised an eyebrow at the younger, waiting patiently with an expectant eye.
The wounded man hesitated only for a moment before nodding slightly. He winced, even that motion apparently caused him considerable pain. Artix nodded and stared intently into his eyes. "Good," he said in a hushed whisper, leaning in closer and speaking with a lethal voice. "Let your word be worth your life, Brakxis, for if you break your oath, this death I now save you from would seem blissful compared to what would await you at my hands..." The younger nodded again, coughing silently.
Artix turned to Kethmal, who stood off in the shadows. "Goa'uld," he said quietly. "Come forth and heal this one."
The Goa'uld stared incredulously at the mercenary. "I have no healing device," he said.
The gray-haired warrior frowned at the other's words, quickly drawing a large pistol from its holster on his thigh and aiming at the other. "You conceal one in your left pocket," he challenged him bluntly. The elder stared hard into Kethmal's furious gaze, the parasite regarding the mercenary in shock. "Heal this one or your death will come quickly on the heels of his..."
The Goa'uld''s eyes flashed brightly in anger as he stared at the mercenary for another moment, considering his options. His hand tightened on the grip of the Tau'ri weapon, but he regarded the larger pistol Artix aimed at him with apprehension. Never before had he seen such a device, and the proportions of the weapon reminded the Goa'uld of the rocket-firing barrel that he had seen upon Yarvin's larger rifle.
Finally, Kethmal stuffed his other hand in his pocket and produced the healing device he had taken from Vala. Holstering the Tau'ri pistol, he placed the apparatus on his newly freed hand. Stepping forward, he watched as Artix regarded him with a cold eye then stood, stepping away from Brakxis' body to allow the Goa'uld to take his place.
Kneeling down by the dying young mercenary, Kethmal looked the injuries over briefly before holding out his hand. The device quickly came to life, humming as it bathed the wounds on Brakxis' body with an eerie, ruby-red light. Within very little time at all, the man's breathing evened out and became stronger as the healing process took its course. Suddenly, the red light vanished and the Goa'uld withdrew his hand, standing. He turned to regard Artix with a contemptuous gaze, one the other returned with a cool, even expression.
After a few moments, Brakxis sat up, taking a deep breath. He looked at himself and saw the twisted holes in his armor. Wincing uncomfortably as the damaged metal poked and prodded his newly healed body, he removed the torn, flexible metal and cast it aside. The black, skin-tight shirt he wore beneath was a strange contrast, particularly with the myriad of small holes that covered his front.
Nonetheless, the youth stood readily, as fit as ever. Picking up his rifle, he looked at Artix who said simply, "Remember your oath." The youth nodded, regarding his elder with a blank expression.
The gray-haired warrior turned his gaze to the Goa'uld. "Is there another path down?" he asked plainly.
"There is," the other said in the voice of the Goa'uld. "It will not take us too far out of our way," he said further.
Artix nodded, then said to all four that were with him. "Come. We have wasted too much time and effort on this one," he said in reference to the Jaffa who had mysteriously vanished. The party wordlessly followed his instructions, all falling into the same marching order they had before their encounter with the Tau'ri.
"I don't like it, sir," Captain Becker said in a dour voice to Colonel Parker. The two men glanced at each other, sharing a tense gaze.
They, Lieutenant Sanders, and Jason Balinski were gathered together in a circle inside of the Ancient facility on PX8-317. Balinkski sat in a chair at one of the computers, turned away from the console so he could focus on the other three. Parker sat on the console to the left of Jason, near the next terminal over. Becker and Sanders both stood opposite the other two men. All four of them looked very worried.
"None of us like it, Captain," came the Colonel's reply. It had been several hours since SG-16's last scheduled check in with them.
Shortly after arriving on the planet this morning, the Colonels of the three SG teams had quickly established their operating procedures. Hourly check-ins with the team below the surface was the first thing suggested. They had also agreed that in the case of trouble, at least one man would ring down into the Ancient library to let SG-9 know what was going on.
The time was now approaching 3 hours late since the last check-in, and no one had shown up.
"Sir, we can't just sit down here forever," the Lieutenant said, speaking up for the first time since they realized something was wrong. His voice was tight, filled with anxiety.
"No," Parker answered, looking over at the Lieutenant and pausing before he continued, "but we can't just run up there, either." He sighed, pursing his lips. "Whatever's happened topside, it must have been pretty bad for Colonels Anderson and Davis to have failed to send someone down here." He then stared off into space with a thoughtful expression.
The four were silent for a few minutes, until Balinksi spoke up. "So, what do we do?"
After a moment's hesitation, Parker glanced back over at Balinski. "For now, we wait and see if someone comes down here." He paused, looked away again, then nodded to himself. "We've got enough rations and water to hole up here for several days, if it comes down to it." He paused for another moment, then asked, "Balinski, do you think you can shut the door leading to the ring platform? Can the computer tell you when it's been activated?"
The red-haired archaeologist looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned in his chair to tap at the computer console again. After a few moments of investigation, he turned back to the Colonel. "I think so, sir."
"Good, do it," Parker answered. As Balinksi turned back and typed away at the computer, the Colonel looked over at the two men standing opposite him. "Guys, I want you to stand guard by the door." Sanders and Becker nodded as the Colonel looked back at the archaeologist again. "Balinski, you let us know the second those rings activate." With that, he hopped off of the console.
"What're you going to do, sir?" Captain Becker asked as the Colonel's feet hit the floor.
Parker paused, then looked Becker dead in the eyes. "I'm going to see about booby-trapping the ZPM." The three other men blanched at this, looking at each other with dread-filled eyes. The Colonel continued speaking, looking at each man in turn. "If our teams have been taken out by hostiles, it may be only a matter of time until they come down here. We can't risk either the ZPM or the Ancient library falling into the hands of the bad guys."
One by one, the other three began to nod in reluctant agreement.
Teal'c peered out from behind the shelter of the corner he leaned against, his breath coming in heavy gasps. The hallway before him was empty and deathly silent. Sweat rolled down his forehead and he winced in pain as he put his weight on his injured leg. A burning sensation tore at him as he aggravated the wound left by the energy blast that had sliced his thigh open. It was one of the many injuries he had received from the hail of weapons fire that greeted him when he had attempted to surprise the invaders.
The white streaks of lightning had injured not only his leg, but also cut him on his left arm and on his side. One of the blasts had also destroyed his radio, and would have punched a hole in his chest, if not for the now useless hunk of electronics. As with the SF that was now hiding in the room back down the hallway, Teal'c's wounds had been cauterized by the same energy blast s that cut him open. The pain was considerable, in spite of the Jaffa taking morphine and an extra dose of Tretonin.
Once the bolts of energy assaulted him, Teal'c had stumbled away, quickly ducking back behind the corner and moving down the length of the corridor. He had expected them to follow on his heels to finish the job. In an attempt to ambush the enemy again, the Jaffa had hid himself in the room with the injured man, using the window in the door to watch for them to come after him.
To his surprise, however, no one had followed. This was most disturbing. He had expected his foe to press their advantage and finish him off. Not only did they outnumber him, but he thought it must have been obvious to them that their weapons fire took had taken its toll.
Glancing out from behind the corner, he blinked in shock. He only saw one body laying on the ground. It was the one he shot to death after the grenade went off. Teal'c blinked in surprise, wiping his eyes to ensure his vision was not playing tricks. Sure enough, there was only one corpse laying in the hallway.
What astounded the Jaffa even more was that he suddenly recognized the corpse as the prisoner he and Mitchell had been interrogating just hours before.
He frowned intensely at this, furrowing his brow as he wondered how the other could have possibly survived the grenade blast. Still, Teal'c reasoned, he hadn't really had time to look at the now missing body. But it had been lying closer to the blast point than the one he had shot, so he had assumed it was cut to pieces by the explosion.
While the silence wore on, the Jaffa's worry grew steadily. He still wondered what these men were after, and what their next move was to be. Moving slowly and quietly, he started to return back down the corridor, continuing to watch the corner intently. The longer the silence grew, the more Teal'c worried that these men were moving to flank him in some fashion, or take another path to their objective.
Suddenly Teal'c heard the crackling sounds of energy weapons fire in the distance behind him.
They four mercenaries proceeded down the corridor at a quick pace, winding their way through the hallways at Kethmal's direction. Finally they came to a turn where Delmas again paused as he peeked around the corner, looking back at his leader while holding up four fingers. Artix nodded and they all prepared their weapons once more.
The fight was quick and very one sided. They had come up short on the Tau'ri, the hallway they emerged from putting them nearly on top of the four that were guarding the elevator. In the firefight that ensued, the men of the SGC never managed to fire a shot that had any chance of even wounding their killers. Within seconds the battle was over and four corpses had fallen to the the ground in a heap.
Wordlessly, Artix motioned to the elevator doors. Kethmal immediately stepped forward and pressed the down button, lighting up both the button and the down-arrow light above the elevator door. As they waited, Artix stared at the silvery doors with a silent, thoughtful brow.
"What?" Delmas asked, noting the expression on the elder's face.
"They know we're here," the gray-haired warrior said simply.
Brakxis and Yarvin shared a troubled glance at this, then looked back at the master. Yarvin spoke up. "Since the Goa'uld has locked them out of controlling the elevator, they'll be waiting for us when we arrive below."
"Exactly," Artix answered, glancing over at the two. Kethmal regarded the four in silence as they spoke.
Just then a bell rang and the lit arrow and button fell dark as the doors opened.
"What do we do?" Delmas asked warily.
Looking over at the other, Artix answered. "We greet them," motioning to the open elevator. The younger smirked at his master's words.
At his words, the five strode quickly inside. As soon as they were within, Kethmal hit the button for 28. Yarvin turned Delmas around and reached into the pack he wore upon his back, retrieving a metallic object about the size of a breadbox. At the same time the doors slid shut and they felt the downward lurch of the elevator as a quiet hum filled the space.
Delmas turned back around to face Yarvin, removing a smaller device from the arm of his armor, the two beginning to manipulate the small device, securing it to the back wall of the elevator. Artix and Kethmal watched the two in silence as Brakxis observed the counter start incrementing from 16.
The Jaffa's head whipped around with an alarmed expression and he quickly realized that the sound was several hallways away, back the way he had come. He turned, trying to run down the hall but nearly fell forward as he did, his leg burning in severe pain and threatening to give out under him.
He stumbled a few feet and managed to recover, then settled into a slow, gimpy walk. Gritting his teeth, he went as fast as he could, each step sending shock waves of pain up his leg and spine.
Moving forward at a tortuously slow pace, he could hear the sounds of battle in the distance. The shrieking of energy fire was immediately accompanied by the chattering sound of machine-gun fire, but almost as quickly followed by the sounds of men screaming.
In an effort to move faster, Teal'c started to lean against the wall as he ran, attempting to shift some of his weight from his wounded leg. The hallway seemed incredibly long as he forced himself forward, each step both causing a sharp stabbing pain in his leg. The warrior felt incredibly frustrated at his inability to get there any faster, cursing himself inwardly for his slow pace.
Then suddenly the sounds stopped just as abruptly as they had began. Teal'c pushed himself all the harder, putting more and more weight on his leg with each step. The pain grew considerably as he limped forward, but the Jaffa merely gritted his teeth and pressed onwards. It was a struggle for him to keep from crying out in pain, but he continuously bore it in silence.
As he reached the end of the hallway, he peered around the corner just in time to see the elevator doors closing silently. He also saw several bodies strewn in awkward positions before the door.
With a greater urgency than before, the Jaffa nearly managed to get himself up to a run. He cursed himself through the haze of pain as he made quick work of the hallway. His entire leg felt like it was aflame in an inferno that was now shooting up his lower back and spine. Without a care for himself, he pushed forward until he came upon the bodies of the four men he'd left to guard the elevator.
Falling to his knees amidst the smoldering corpses spread across the floor as his leg gave out, Teal'c looked about with a horrified and sickened expression, at last throwing his head back and crying out in rage. He'd left these men to their deaths. Just as he had left the other three whom had been torn to pieces in the explosion just minutes before. The Jaffa closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, fury burning in his veins. Drawing in a deep breath, he swore a silent blood oath to kill those responsible for this, in as painful a means as he could devise.
For now, however, he realized that all he could do was get the word to his friends. He knew he was in no shape to chase after them now.
One of his large hands reached over to take a radio from the nearest corpse. Keying it up, he spoke with an emotional, ragged voice.
"The enemy has reached the elevator. They are moving, but I do not know where..."
Vala looked up from the laptop with wide eyes and a stunned expression as she heard Teal'c's voice in her radio's ear-bud. She hesitated for only a moment before she looked back down at the computer and started typing away furiously.
Although she'd been locked out of the computer that had allowed her to control the elevators, she was still able to access the base's central logging server. With a few deft commands, she quickly confirmed the Jaffa's warning. She then accessed the security camera network again, and pulled up the feed for the elevator. The sight she saw made her grit her teeth in worry.
"Cam, Daniel," she said urgently quickly into her headset, "Teal'c's right. They're in the elevator. It's going all the way down, they've selected level 28."
Clearing her screen except for the camera feed, she restored the terminal window she'd been working in when the Jaffa's dire warning had filled her ear. The window was half filled with Goa'uld writing, and had been the same screen she'd been staring at for most of the time since Daniel left. She drew in a deep breath and stared at the blinking cursor before her, quickly losing sense of the world around her as she focused. Desperately she struggled to remember anything she could about the Goa'uld software that was installed on the base computers.
In the back of her mind she heard someone talking in the ear-bud she wore, but paid it no mind. Maybe it was Cam or maybe it was Daniel, she didn't notice. Artix was on the move, and given his current destination she had begun to suspect his ultimate goal. It would only be too fitting, given what she knew of him.
She had to stop the man, and controlling the Goa'uld's software was her only means to do so.
The time seemed to both crawl and fly by by as she stared at the blinking cursor, her heart pounding in her ears, counting the fractions of the seconds as they mercilessly flew by. She cursed her mind and her muddled memories for failing to give her what she so desperately needed right now. Self-loathing and frustration boiled in her gut as she watched out of the corner of her eye the camera feed of Artix and his crew moving unhindered down into the bowels of the SGC.
Suddenly her eyes flew wide open and she stared at the screen in complete and utter shock.
"The enemy has reached the elevator," Daniel heard Teal'c's ragged voice say in his radio's ear-bud, "They are moving, but I do not know where..."
The archaeologist slowed only for a moment as he exchanged shocked glances with the two with him. Then the three ran all the harder for the news, barreling through the hallway towards the hatch they had come from. Within seconds, they then heard Vala on their radios with an urgent voice, "Cam, Daniel, Teal'c's right. They're in the elevator and going all the way down, they've selected level 28."
Almost immediately Colonel Mitchell's voice came up on their radios. "I'm moving my teams to the elevator, we'll catch 'em flatfooted when they arrive and take 'em out."
Daniel listened as the two men with him climbed into the hatch. As before, he climbed in after and swung the hatch door shut, the heavy boom that resulted echoing through the dark tube. "Copy that, Cam. For what good it'll do, we're coming down, though you'll probably be done long before that." The archaeologist started ladder as he unkeyed his radio.
His mind was a jumble of emotions and thoughts, everything was going so fast. It took him a moment to even register that Teal'c seemed okay. He hoped that was the case. While Daniel wanted to ask, he knew that he needed to keep the frequency clear for any important messages that might need to be sent by the rest of the team.
The elevator was crammed full with the four mercenaries and the Goa'uld. The seconds counted by while the two continued to manipulate the device they had attached to the wall. Yarvin opened a front panel while Delmas inserted the smaller device he had removed from his person into a newly revealed slot within. Yarvin then started to work a series of dip switches at the bottom of the open panel.
Artix watched his two more trusted men work in silence, yet his eyes kept glancing at Brakxis and Kethmal, in turn. He trusted neither, and did not like the fact that half of those that were with him were as likely to turn their weapons on him as on those they were sent here to kill.
Though Brakxis had sworn the oath that was demanded of him, the elder put little credence in it. He was simply trying to buy time. As for the Goa'uld, Artix knew it was a fool that trusted their kind. Seeing the look the two shared while Kethmal healed the young mercenary had given Artix considerable cause for worry. While the old mercenary knew he could handle either, he didn't like the prospect of having to deal with both at the same time.
He realized he would have to do something to prevent these from moving against him.
The gray-haired warrior glanced back up at the counter just as the counter hit 20. Suddenly the elevator suddenly halted with a sudden jerk, jostling the occupants while every light shut off, plunging the small space into complete and utter darkness.
Within moments of starting his descent into the darkness, Daniel suddenly heard Vala's excited voice over the radio. "Everyone, I broke into their software! I've shut down the elevator!!" The archaeologist stopped as he climbed, a stunned smile crossing his face. He reached up to key up his radio, intending to tell Vala how thrilled he was at the news, but heard Cam's voice just as his hand reached the device on his shoulder.
"Dammit Vala, what'd you do that for?" the Colonel asked in an irritated voice. Daniel listened, completely shocked by Mitchell's reply. The radio fell silent for several seconds after that.
"I beg your pardon?" finally came her icy voice in reply.
Again Cam's voice came over the radio, "I've got my teams in position outside of the elevator door on level 28. We've got sixteen men armed with P-90s, as well as a couple of fixed-mount machine guns we just borrowed from the Gateroom. We're set to take these guys down."
Daniel hesitated, but then started climbing down again, realizing he was falling behind the two below him. There was silence over the radio for a few moments, when suddenly Teal'c's ragged voice filled the brief silence. "I do not believe your strategy would have worked, Colonel Mitchell." It was clear to the archaeologist their friend was in pain, and again he was frustrated that he couldn't do anything about it just yet.
"Are you kidding me Teal'c?" Cam asked incredulously.
Teal'c answered with a frustrated and angered voice, "I have engaged this enemy in battle, Colonel Mitchell. They killed seven of my men and seriously wounded myself and another with little effort." A brief pause, and Daniel imagined the Jaffa was struggling to calm himself down, regain his composure. "They are not to be trifled with."
"Guys, I hate to interrupt here," Daniel jumped in with an urgent voice, keying up as soon as he heard the silence after Teal'c's last transmission, "but what's done is done. They're not going to 28 now, so we need to deal with them where the are. Vala's bought us some time, she's helped us to keep them further away from whatever their objective is." He unkeyed and listened, to hear only silence. He pushed the button again, asking, "Vala, what floor are they on?"
"They're on level twenty," she answered, her voice still laced with bitterness.
"Okay, we're right there," Daniel answered as he climbed down a few rungs and reached the next level. After a moment's thought, he then asked further, "Can you see them on the monitors right now?"
There was a pause and she answered tensely, "No, I can't. The lights on the elevator went out when I stopped it, I can't see a thing."
"Alright," he answered, "please let me know if and when you see something. We're moving to engage." As he spoke, he looked down and watched as the men below him paused, said a few words to one another, then stared back up towards him.
"I will," she answered shortly.
Unkeying the radio, he hesitated for a moment before activating it again, saying with a very sincere voice, "Oh, and Vala...I just wanted to say thanks for the good work. I think you did great just now." Releasing the button, Jackson waited, listening to the silence that followed.
"Thank you Daniel," came her reply not too long after he spoke, her voice considerably warmer and filled with earnest gratitude. The archaeologist allowed himself a brief smile, but then turned his attention back to the task at hand.
With that, he stepped onto the ledge and gave the wheel on the hatch a spin, pushing it open after the bolts completely withdrew from the wall.
The door swung open, revealing the same darkness as that they'd encountered a floor above. Daniel grabbed hold of the P-90 dangling from his vest and pointed its barrel out the door while he reached out from the ladder and found his footing on the ledge. Shifting his weight, he moved through the portal. Behind him he heard the sound of the two that were following as they climbed back up to the level of the hatch he had just exited.
Jackson paused where he stood, listening intently and looking down both directions of the corridor. As he waited for the other men to make their way through the portal, he thought about what level they were on and how to best get to the elevator. The two behind him climbed out of the hatch. The one was about to shut the door, when the archaeologist stopped them.
"Wait," he said with a thoughtful expression, "They might try and come through this way to get down to 28."
Looking at Jackson with a confused expression, the man asked, "So you want me to leave the door open for them?"
Daniel reached into a pocket on his vest and pulled out a block of C-4. "Not exactly," he said with a grim look.
Vala typed away furiously at the keyboard, her ears still ringing from Mitchell's rebuke for what she had been able to achieve for these people. She had felt so proud of herself, until that Colonel went and ruined it. Her fingers came down on the keys like little hammers, bashing away so hard that the Jaffa patients near her started to watch with wary expressions.
"Oh, and Vala," came Daniel's voice in the raven-haired woman's ear. She listened with a still dour expression, her keys continuing to type away angrily at the keyboard. She wondered bitterly if now her archaeologist was going to give her grief, too.
"I just wanted to say thanks for the good work," she heard him say. Her fingers froze over the keys and she looked up, a faint smile blooming upon her lips as she listened to him say further, "I think you did great just now."
She paused, pursing her lips as a warm feeling washed over her at his words. Drawing in a deep breath, she suddenly realized she didn't give a damn what Cameron thought. Daniel appreciated it - her Daniel - and that was more than enough for her.
"Thank you Daniel," she finally said into her headset, the happiness she felt spilling over into her voice. She smiled sweetly as her head filled with thoughts of him. Drawing in a deep breath, she allowed herself the momentary pleasure of closing her eyes to savor the moment.
As she exhaled, she looked back down at the keyboard and started typing away again. Now that she had direct access to the Goa'uld's computer program, she could see just how extensive and malicious it really was. While part of her in fact admired the elegant design of the software, she was much too disturbed by its nature and intended purpose to pay the technical attributes any mind.
She started exploring the program, trying to see if there was a way she could turn it now to their advantage, while also being mindful of finding and closing any backdoors that might allow the Goa'uld to regain control. As she worked, she watched out of the corner of her eye the window containing an array of live camera feeds from level 20, mindful for any activity outside the stopped elevator.
The five in the elevator were silent for a moment in the darkness. Suddenly one of the lights on the mercenaries' rifles was activated.
"Douse that light," Artix said coldly, complete darkness returning upon his words.
"So do we just sit in the darkness and wait for them to come for us?" came the Goa'uld's belligerent voice.
Artix paused for only a moment before answering with a question of his own. "Tell me, Kethmal," his voice taking on a dangerous quality, "how did they take control of the elevators again?"
There was a tense silence, during which the lights from Kethmal's personal computer console came to life. The gadget beeped softly as the Goa'uld manipulated the controls, the display changing with each action. The tones sounded decidedly negative. Soon he stopped, silence filling the elevator.
"What?" Artix asked in the darkness, his voice even more edgy.
"There must be some mistake," Kethmal muttered, more to himself than in answer to the mercenary's question.
There was a commotion in the darkness and the Goa'uld suddenly found himself pinned to the wall of the elevator, his feet dangling freely above the floor. He was surprised at the strength the old man exhibited as he felt the elder's forearm pressing upon his throat. As he struggled for breath, Kethmal suddenly heard a snapping, metallic sound in the darkness. The next thing he knew, he felt something sharp pressing against the side of his throat.
"What...happened?" Artix asked slowly, with a quiet, seething voice.
"It would seem," Kethmal said as he choked, "that I have lost control of the program I installed in their computers."
The elevator resounded with the same metallic snapping sound and Kethmal felt the sharp object disappear from this throat. Artix stepped away, letting the Goa'uld drop in a heap, the elevator jostling as he hit. Kethmal was surprised as his legs failed him and he found himself in a pile on the hard floor.
"They are moving faster than I expected," Artix said quietly in a thoughtful voice.
As wrenched himself to his feet, Kethmal asked incredulously, "You expected them to compromise my program?"
A single chuckle was the mercenary's first answer. "I thought it not unlikely," he said plainly. "They are resourceful, and no stranger to the technology of you and your kin. The fact that your kind never produces anything original, but only steals and reuses what others have created, simply makes it easier for primitives such as these to defeat you. " In the silence, the Goa'uld seethed, his eyes flashing brightly in the darkness as hatred filled him.
Turning his attention away from their parasitic ally, the elder mercenary asked, "Delmas, Yarvin...did you finish your preparations?"
"We did," Yarvin answered. "We need only send the activation code."
"Good," Artix answered. "We can use this change of fortune to our advantage." With that, they heard the same metal snapping sound again, which was soon followed by a scraping sound. Dim light from the hallway outside poured into the small space as Artix wrenched the doors open.
The elevator was stopped nearly halfway below the floor. As the light from the emergency lamps without cast onto the elder mercenary. All could see now a long metal blade protruding from the armored sleeve of one of his forearms.
Turning back to face the rest, Artix removed a heavy, hand-sized device from the armor on his thigh. "Augment your preparations with this," he told Yarvin as he held out the unit.
The three other mercenaries looked at what the elder had in his hand in stunned silence. Yarvin swallowed hard and said, "That will..."
"Yes," Artix answered simply, "but we are exiting here." The expressions of the three other mercenaries suddenly showed understanding. Yarvin took the device and quickly installed it on the wall-mounted unit that he and Delmas had readied.
Without another word or even looking back, Artix turned back around and climbed out of the elevator into the hallway beyond. The rest followed suit, and soon they were all standing in the hallway.
The Goa'uld was the last to exit, each mercenary pushing their way past him in turn. As Kethmal heaved himself up out of the small chamber, he suddenly found himself face-to-face with Artix, the burly, gray-haired man staring down at him. While no emotion was betrayed on the human's face, the symbiote was taken aback by the intense stare he received.
"Can you take back control of your program?" Artix asked simply. Kethmal realized that the human had not yet retracted the blade on his arm.
Raising his head indignantly, the Goa'uld answered with a contemptuous voice. "Of course," he said. "These humans cannot hope to understand the complexities..."
"Silence," Artix whispered, taking a step closer to the Goa'uld. The words that were on Kethmal's lips suddenly failed him, and he sputtered into silence as he took a step back, his heel meeting the edge of the floor. Fury raged within the symbiote. He decided he would have his revenge on this impudent human.
"Do what you must to regain control of their computers," Artix said further. "We cannot lose that advantage now, of all times." The Goa'uld hesitated, but the nodded. He knew this was neither the time nor the place to have his revenge. That would have to wait. For now, he merely slunk away, and busied himself with the computer console. Artix watched as the parasite fumbled with the device, which continually beeped negatively at him as he tried one thing after another.
"What now?" Delmas asked, watching as their leader turned his attention from the Goa'uld to the elevator from whence they came and studied its current position in the shaft, looking up at the cables that held it in place.
After a brief pause, Artix glanced over his shoulder, lifted his blade, and smiled malevolently. "Now, we greet our hosts."
Vala furrowed her eyebrows as she continued her exploration of the Goa'uld software on the base computers. The initial insight that had allowed her to gain control of the system was only a brief flash of recollection. As she explored more and more, the interface and operation of the program continued to tickle her memory, teasing her that she knew what this monstrosity was. The more she looked, the more she was convinced that she could completely master the software, and turn it on its creator.
However, her mind refused to surrender the treasure she sought.
Sighing in frustration, she continued to investigate one thing after another. She was making good headway, but it felt awkward. Her gut told her this should be intuitive, but she just couldn't find the key that would make it so.
Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly saw on a camera feed as the elevator door start to slowly open, as if it were being forced. She immediately minimized the window where she was accessing the Goa'uld software, and brought the camera feed array to fill her screen.
The raven-haired woman furrowed her brow anxiously as she saw Artix prying the doors wide. She drew in a deep breath and started to speak into her headset.
Daniel and the two men that were with him walked cautiously, making their way through the hallways one after another. They had turned on the lights on their P-90s, the three pale beams of white light cutting a path through the oppressive darkness.
Suddenly they heard Vala's voice on the radio through their ear pieces. "Daniel," she said with an urgent voice, "Artix and his cronies just exited the elevator on level 20. They're lingering outside, if you hurry you might catch them there."
"Let's go!" Daniel said to the two with him, breaking into a dead run. The three hastily charged through hallways, not bothering with caution as they made their way. Because the access tunnel they had come from was on the opposite side of the floor, they had quite a ways to go, but they tore down the hallways at break-neck speed.
They approached the last turn before the approach to the elevator, but stopped short when they heard Vala suddenly yelling in their ears, "Cam, get away from the elevator!"
Mitchell and his men were positioned about twenty feet from the elevator doors, busily barricading themselves in. The Colonel had decided to make the best of what he felt was a setback due to Vala's actions. To that end, he was directing the troops to augment their position with more machine guns and armor plated hideaways.
"No, move that placement over there," he grumbled too harshly at the Sergeant carrying yet another machine gun. He knew he shouldn't have snapped at the man. He knew that he was still feeling annoyed at the raven-haired woman and the archaeologist. Sighing, shook his head in frustration.
"Cam, get away from the elevator!" came the woman's shouted voice in his ear and from the various radios carried by those around him. His eyes flew wide at her words.
"MOVE!" he bellowed, not hesitating for a moment. "You heard the lady!" Everyone around him dropped whatever they had in their hands and ran for the far end of the hallway, or adjoining hallways. Mitchell lingered for just a moment until the last man was past him, then he ran after the rest.
They had gotten about another twenty feet, almost reaching the first intersection when suddenly they heard a loud crash from behind them that shook the floor. Cam looked back just in time to see the elevator doors mushrooming out as a huge explosion erupting from within, tearing the metal open, ripping the doors off and sending them flying. The heat from the inferno flooded the hallway ahead of the fireball as Mitchell's eyes flew wide open and he froze, watching in shock and horror as the inferno rushed out into the hallway, consuming the emplacements they had just put in place and quickly closing the distance with him.
Vala watched the camera feeds from level 28 on her laptop in horror as the explosion fire-balled out from the elevator doors. Fear and tension knotted up inside of her as one by one the videos from that area each went to a snowy static. In the back of her mind she realized that the heat and fire had knocked out the cameras, but all she could think about right now was that she had no idea if Cam and his men had made it clear of the inferno.
She watched in shock as the last camera's feed in that section of 28 went the same snowy white. The color drained from her face as she feared the worst.
Then she heard Daniel's voice in her ear, the archaeologist's words jolting her out of her state of shock. After hesitating for a minute, she then brought up the camera feeds. She was about to say something, but then paused as she saw Daniel peak around the corner. Instead, she watched intently, not wanting to distract him.
"Vala, what's going on??" Daniel whispered harshly into his radio. There had been nothing but silence on the radio in the seconds after the raven-haired woman had yelled her warning in their ears. During that time, the three had waited quietly in the still, dark hallway, waiting anxiously for any further word.
Now, however, Jackson was concerned that their opportunity to counter-attack the intruders was slipping away. He glanced to his left at the two men with him. They met his gaze and held their weapons at the ready, waiting for him. Drawing in a deep breath, the archaeologist braced himself and peeked around the corner.
Down the relatively short length of hallway, he saw the four mercenaries gathered around the open elevator door. One of them had gray hair and was just turning away from the open door to face the others, the dark shaft starting to glow behind him in an eerie, orange light.
Daniel quickly ducked back around the corner, fearing he might be seen by the gray-haired man at the end of the hallway. He furrowed his brow in concern at the light he'd seen in the shaft, wondering what the man had done.
Clutching his P90 tightly, the archaeologist wordlessly flicked the weapon's switch from automatic fire to single shot. Glancing back at the two SFs, he held up a hand with four fingers extended. The others nodded wordlessly as he further gestured that he was going to attempt to take one out.
Jackson peered around the corner again. The four were standing in a circle now, talking quietly. He could hear their voices carrying down the hallway, but couldn't make out what they were saying at this distance.
Raising his weapon, he looked through the scope. Just as he started to look through the reticule, he heard Vala's voice whisper in his ear. "Daniel, target the gray-haired man. That's Artix."
The archaeologist quickly realized that whatever had happened down below to Cam, she was now watching him through the security cameras. Without hesitation, he selected the gray-haired man, taking aim at his head. As Daniel attempted to center his target, but the turning head of one of the other mercenaries opposite Artix kept shifting in and out of his field of vision, blocking the shot. The archaeologist found it impossible to sight the gray-haired man for more than a fraction of a second as the other mercenary's movements continually obstructed his view. Thankfully, every time Daniel had a glimpse of Artix, he was looking away, apparently talking to someone out of sight.
The seconds ticked by while Daniel tried to make his target. He quickly grew frustrated and worried. Suddenly the other head moved out of his field of vision, and Daniel saw the gray-haired man looking straight at him. A chill ran down the archaeologist's spine as he looked right into the man's hard eyes. Gray eyebrows furrowed and his mouth moved in quick speech, the urgent tone in his voice carrying down the hallway.
In desperation the archaeologist just squeezed the trigger. Just as the round went off, the other mercenary turned around, his head filling Daniel's view scope once again. The crack of the rifle filled the hallway. Daniel lowered his weapon just in time to see the bullet strike the other man in the head. Blood splattered everywhere as the armored mercenary spun about and fell limp to the ground, even as his fellows all turned to face down the hallway, raising their weapons.
Daniel looked on in shock as he realized he'd missed his target, his finger mindlessly switching his weapon from single to automatic again. As he thoughtlessly raised his weapon and fired a burst, he realized that the gray-haired man was staring at him with venomous anger. At the same time, the two SFs that had been behind him stepped out from behind him and started to fire at the mercenaries.
Energy weapons discharged in a hasty barrage as the three intruders left standing scrambled for cover. The hail of bullets sending them in opposite directions, each moving in whichever way was the shortest distance to a corner he could hide behind.
Within the space of a few heartbeats, the hail of energy fire became focused, forcing Daniel and the other two with him to duck back behind the corner.
"Well," one of the two SFs said as the energy blasts hammered and chipped the concrete just to their right. "At least you took one down." Daniel looked over at the man next to him as a particularly close shot sent a spray of dust showering over him. He and the other two ducked a little, cringing at the heavy hit.
"Nice shot, Dr. Jackson," the man continued in a sincere voice, smirking in amusement at the expression on the archaeologist's face
Cam stared in shock as the fireball mushroomed forth from the elevator doors, his jaw dropping at the sight.
Suddenly two pairs of strong hands grabbed his vest, pulling him behind the corner just as the pluming firestorm reached where he had been standing.
"Get down, sir!" one of the two airmen yelled as they pulled him out of the way, the three falling to the floor together. They braced themselves as the flames licked past their feet and over their heads. The heat was intense, and Mitchell could feel the flames searing his flesh. Suddenly he felt like he was living through the Hell his Grandma had warned him of. He screamed in spite of himself along with the two beside him, a scream of as much borne of terror as of pain.
Within seconds the explosion had spent itself, but flames still danced on anything flammable, including clothing. The screams of Mitchell and the two with him turned into shouts of panic. Suddenly a fire extinguisher went off, held by another one of the men that had gotten to a more safe distance. Cam gasped as the cold, white substance covered him, the drastic change a complete shock to his entire body.
Within a second more, the flames were out. After a few moments, the Colonel was able to sit up. He was astounded that he wasn't in more pain, that he actually had use of his fingers and toes. He new some of his flesh had been burned, and badly too, but considering what he had just lived through, he counted himself lucky.
Immediately he turned his attention to his fellows. "Hey, you guys okay?" he asked urgently, afraid of the answer.
"I feel cooked, but I ain't that bad," said the one as he picked himself up. The fellow looked about as bad as Mitchell felt, and was covered from head to toe in the white powder from the extinguisher.
The Colonel turned his attention to the other, "What about you?"
The other was slowly sitting up, "I don't know, but I don't want to even think about barbecuing again for a long time, sir..." He was likewise covered in the white flame retardant.
Cam chuckled, standing and helping the second man up at the same time. "If you're making jokes like that, you should be okay," he said with a smile. The other man stood, and he looked at the two with gratitude. "Thanks a lot, you guys really pulled my bacon out of the fire on that one."
The first man rolled his eyes, answering with a weary voice, "oh, very droll, sir."
"Hey, I try," Cam answered without paying too much attention. "How's everyone else?" he asked to no one in particular, looking about him with a worried expression. As he viewed the area, he saw other men wielding fire extinguishers, putting out various small fires that had been set by the explosion. With a heavy sigh, he started walking around the area, taking stock of how his people were doing.
The three other mercenaries looked on with gleefully malevolent expressions as Artix grasped the door frame and leaned in, cutting the cable to the elevator with his blade. The box instantly dropped out of sight as it fell into the depths of the shaft.
The gray-haired man allowed himself a grin as he watched the vessel disappear into the darkness. He counted the seconds until he heard the thunderous impact below. He felt the frame of the shaft shudder as its interior lit up in a bright orange light from the explosion eight floors down. He smirked wryly as he turned and started to walk away, a wave of heat bellowing out from the open door behind him and filling the space.
As he turned his attention to his fellows, he paused, thinking he had seen movement down the length of hallway.
"I expect that did them some damage," said Yarvin with a smirk, drawing Artix's attention. Delmas and Brakxis were on his left and right, respectively, while Yarvin stood opposite him.
The elder mercenary glanced at his compatriot, then nodded. "Yes, but not enough by far. We must finish the job we came here to do." He glanced over at the Goa'uld, who was still wrestling with his portable computer. "Kethmal," he called, continuing when the other glanced up from his screen to look at him, "have you been able to restore your control of their systems?"
Kethmal hesitated, then answered. "Not yet..."
Artix frowned intently, then said with a bitter tone. "Then keep trying."
The elder warrior sighed quietly as the Goa'uld wordlessly glared at him, then looked back down at his computer. Their parasitic ally continued to tap at the console, only to be answered repeatedly with fairly negative sounding beeps.
"We need to consider our options," Artix said wearily, looking back at the other three. "We must consider the quickest way to our objective." As he spoke, he glanced at each of the three. "If we wait much longer, more forces may arrive to thwart..." his voice trailed off as he saw a man leaning out from around a corner down the hall, aiming a weapon at them.
"Behind you...!" Artix started to tell Yarvin urgently as he lifting his weapon. The other mercenary turned as his master spoke, he and the other two also lifting their weapons.
Suddenly a shot rang out. Blood and bits of flesh splattered from Yarvin's head. Artix looked on in shock as the stricken man spun violently about then collapsed in a heap on the ground, blood pouring out from his skull.
The elder looked harshly down the hallway at the bespeckled man who had momentarily lowered his weapon, affording the gray-haired warrior a look at his face. A scowl crossed his scarred face as he hefted his weapon and started firing, even as a hail of bullets came flying at him. Hatred filled Artix as he fired a hail of energy blasts at the foe.
The old warrior and his fellows quickly found cover behind the corners of where the hallway met the room they stood in, digging in and firing concentrated bursts of energy at the opposition position. They were able to drive the others back, but the old warrior knew their advantage wouldn't last.
Frowning bitterly, he strode out from his hiding spot while Delmas and Brakxis continued to provide covering fire. He thoughtlessly tossed his own rifle aside as he knelt down to pick up the larger weapon that had been carried by Yarvin. Hefting it up, he threw a few switches and took aim at the enemy's position, the larger barrel lighting up as the weapon started to hum.
Vala looked on with a tense expression as she watched the camera feed of Daniel lifting his P-90. She realized quickly that the archaeologist was going to try and kill one of them with a single shot.
"Daniel," she whispered into her headset, "target the gray-haired man. That's Artix." She pursed her lips in frustration as the seconds ticked by without a reply from Daniel. The man continued to aim his rifle, unmoving and giving no indication if he heard her words.
After what seemed like forever, she watched as he fired his shot.
"Dammit," she cursed as she watched one of the other mercenaries fall while Artix stood unharmed. She exhaled heavily, suddenly realizing that she'd been holding her breath the whole time.
As tense as she had been before, a surge of fear swept over her as she saw the bolts of energy fly around Daniel, raising the hackles on the back of her neck and settling like a lump in the pit of her stomach. She glanced between the two camera views she had, one of Daniel's position and one of Artix and his crew. Her brow creased in worry as she saw them drive the archaeologist and his men back under cover.
Then she saw the gray-haired warrior stride out and pick up the rifle of the dead man on the floor. Her eyes flew wide in recognition of the weapon as the mercenary hefted it and aimed at Daniel's position.
"Daniel, get out of there!!"she screamed, terror clutching at her heart.
The archaeologist winced as he heard Vala's shriek in his ear, sharing panicked looks with the two men with him, even as they pushed off from the wall and ran for all they were worth. As they charged down the corridor, they heard a loud hiss and then a huge explosion behind them rocked the ground, the blast knocking them off their feet.
"Sonuva BITCH!" Daniel exclaimed as he sat up and looked back only to see a gaping hole where the corner they had taken cover behind had been. Again he shared stunned looks with his compatriots, then the three of them picking themselves up off the floor.
"Daniel, they're coming after you," came Vala's words in his ear, her trembling voice caked with panic. "Move your ass!!"
The archaeologist wasted no time in complying, starting to run along with the others beside him. They flew down the hallway, quickly reaching the far end of the somewhat short length of corridor. Daniel glanced back as he turned the corner in time to catch a glimpse of the gray-haired man lifting a largish rifle to take aim.
"Move!!" Daniel yelled as he ran even faster. Again came the hissing noise, and once more, the three were knocked to their knees at the force of the blast.
They scrambled to regain their footing, panic driving them as they hurried to put distance between them and the mercenaries that were chasing them.
"I don't think they're gonna stop chasing us," the man to Daniel's left said in a bleak voice.
"Yeah," Jackson breathed as they ran around another corner. He glanced back and saw that instead of taking another shot, Artix and his cronies were simply running after them.
"What are we gonna do?" the other man asked, panic filling his words.
As Daniel ran, he noticed a pair of double doors in a recess in the wall, one of which was ajar. "In here!" he said in a half whisper, ducking inside of the dark entrance way. The two men with him followed without a word.
Daniel pushed open the door as he entered, pausing as the other two entered behind him. He then quickly and quietly closed the door completely.
The three found themselves in a dark room, darker than the hallways they had just left. Though there was no lighting, they could tell the room was expansive. Daniel suddenly remembered that level 20 was primarily a machine shop. They had run into the room that held all of the large, industrial scale equipment for building things. Drill presses, lathes, large saws, even a foundry, among other things.
Jackson and the two with him held their breath as they heard the mercenaries run past the doors. It was quite the struggle to be silent, the three were exhausted from their flight for their lives.
Several seconds passed after they heard the other men run past the closed door. The one man leaned in to ask Jackson in a hushed whisper, "How long do we wait?"
Daniel pursed his lips at the question, pondering the question. His gut was churning, something didn't feel right.
Artix snarled as his second shot demolished the next corner he had seen the bespeckled man disappear behind. Even before he reached the position, he knew that he had missed his quarry.
The elder mercenary ran with an energy borne of hatred and loathing. Yarvin had been one of the few men he could trust in this galaxy. The bespeckled man would pay for that death with his own life.
As he reached the corner, Artix's expectations were affirmed. There was nothing but debris and rubble. There was no corpse was sprayed across the floor to satisfy his lust for vengeance. Indeed, as he turned the corner, he saw the man disappear behind another corner.
Without waiting another second, Artix ran down the length of the next hallway. As he ran, he heard the footfalls of his fellows, but paid them no mind. He knew that all he needed was one hallway longer than those he'd been chasing the bespeckled man through so far, and he'd have his prey.
The elder man turned the corner and at first smiled with satisfaction at the length of hallway, but then frowned as he realized the other man was no where to be seen. He ran down half the length of the corridor, then stopped, glancing from one end to the other as Dranis, Brakxis, and Kethmal caught up to him. The three were breathing heavily, while by contrast Artix was barely winded.
"We lost them?" Brakxis asked in surprise, his breath coming in heavy gulps. "They must have gone done one of those hallways," he said further, gesturing down the length of hallway where two intersections could be seen.
"No," Artix answered simply. He looked down the remaining stretch of hallway ahead of them, then back down the way they came, which had a series of doors along its length.
His eyes narrowed.
"They're still here."