Chapter 21 - Pressure
Sleeping in a desert was no pleasant experience. Sam's first trial, when Martouf and Lantash had joined them, had been on a full sand dune; she now found that despite getting sand in many places, that was a much better choice. Being thoroughly hydrated helped ease the waking process, for one. And here and now, the sand only barely covered the rocks beneath, and during the night even their sufficiently deep spot had disappeared.
Sam's first impression upon waking was of an aching in her left shoulder, and then a tender spot as she tried to move it. Rolling over, frowning and murmuring "Ow," through dry lips, she found that the sand had slipped down the hill and a rough rock poked up behind it. Some of the sand had stayed beneath her legs, so Sam and Jolinar were slanted down and Sam could feel the extra blood in her face. Letting out a huge sigh, Sam lay her head back for a moment.
*What, in the name of all the stars...* came Jolinar's cranky tone shortly after.
~No, we're not quite upside down,~ said Sam. ~But our sand ran off; most of it, anyway.~
*I shall personally subject whoever chose this planet as home-world to a night on its surface,* swore Jolinar.
Sam's smile was more a grimace, as she recognized the familiar "I'm gonna kill whoever did this" tone even if culture made it slightly different. ~Cordesh is going to pay,~ she agreed.
*Yes, let's not loiter,* said Jolinar.
Sam sat up, wincing as she rolled her shoulder back, the muscles clenching a little before relaxing enough to move. She felt the tender spot with her other hand, and though she couldn't see it, she could feel that it was pink from the abrasion and might possibly bruise.
*I can fix that,* said Jolinar.
Standing up, Sam stretched and shook the sand from herself. The sun was barely over the horizon and so the air was still cool, but thankfully no fog lay over the planet's surface. Picking up the blanket, Sam wrapped it around herself and walked over to where their water had been collected. She squatted down and looked in the bowl, licking her dry lips. Thank god that old trick worked out here. She grabbed the water bottle and filled it, then downed a large sip. The gritty and bitter taste of the sand was washed down, and she immediately felt refreshed.
~I don't feel like eating,~ she said, packing up the equipment and standing up.
*Agreed, we are not hungry yet,* said Jolinar. *If we have any fortune at all, Cordesh will not have started his day this early, or even better, he will wander without direction. We have not received any communication from the base, so the guards have seen no change yet.*
~I wonder what his plan is,~ said Sam, transferring control to Jolinar.
*We can be certain that it does not do the Tok'ra any good,* Jolinar answered, *He has no respect for our lives, as we've seen.*
Sam wasn't sure she wanted to ask the question, but she took the risk. ~Do you have formal mourning for those you lose? Kurlsa, Rosha...~
*No,* said Jolinar. She had been massaging out their stiff shoulder, and now her strokes went a little faster. *As a culture we just move on.*
~That can't be good,~ Sam said, but not pressing the point.
Jolinar didn't say anything, just finished packing up and began walking towards the trail again. Sam took a moment to wonder how close to humans the Tok'ra mind was, then quickly dismissed it. Now wasn't the time.
After returning to the last spot where they had guessed Cordesh had been, Jolinar reassessed the landscape. *It's impossible to know when he came here,* she said, *which is unfortunate. Had it been later last night, he would have chosen a different path than this morning.*
~Okay, but what are the consequences?~ Sam asked, trying to see what Jolinar saw. The direction of the sun last night had overshadowed much of the crevices, leaving only the higher ones truly visible, and she definitely understood how today the world appeared entirely different. ~It looks like a main path that way, and the easier path is really on the other side, but will they not lead to the same place in the end?~
*Possibly; a similar end, definitely. But how shall we know, if we find no trace of him, if he has grown more wary or if he did not go that way? We have no time for both.*
~Assuming we caught up at all,~ Sam said, her mind working quickly even at this time of the morning.
*Right, he would be somewhere in this area as it was growing dark,* said Jolinar following.
~Which means he would have settled for the night nearby,~ continued Sam.
*Which means he'd leave obvious signs from sleeping,* said Jolinar. *Of course, look for where he slept first.*
Now with a plan, Jolinar quickly moved along the first path, eyes quickly scanning everywhere the sand was thickest. The shadows were still long, but on the opposite side of everything. But the sand was smooth and the brush untouched. Jolinar half-jogged along the top of the stone ridge, following the natural trail for a couple miles before looking ahead and seeing a wide plain of thick brush.
*Not this way, then,* she said before running back along where she'd come. The sun was now up and piercing through the film of cloud cover that still remained.
A half hour later, they were back at the beginning to follow the other trail. It was easier as they had predicted, and the light layer of sand was welcome after the hard stone. Sam had been impressed with the Tok'ra version of combat boots; they were softer and not as thick, but the comfort level was amazing, even after spending all night in them. They also seemed to be absorbent, or maybe well-ventilated, because Sam couldn't tell that her feet had been in them for a full three days now with barely a break.
Ten minutes on the second trail, though, and they found what they were looking for. The dimple of sand where Cordesh had collected water, the sand shifted oddly, even a crushed piece of brush. Confident and determined, they continued on.
The sun rose, and the clues grew thin, Jolinar guessing at even faster speeds in an attempt to catch up even more. What clues they did find, though, seemed fresher, although Sam had to wonder occasionally how much was wishful thinking. Daniel had taught her how delicate this kind of work was, and without scientific equipment even the more advanced and observant Tok'ra couldn't be perfect.
A couple hours into the chase, and Jolinar stopped short. Sam didn't see it at first, but then she was just as caught off guard.
~Wait a minute...~ she said.
Jolinar stooped to pick up the bit of clothing caught on the thorn. *This is a foolish mistake; it must be a lead.*
~Can we be sure?~ asked Sam.
Jolinar didn't answer with her usual firmness, fingering the ragged edges. *No and yes.*
~Damn,~ muttered Sam.
*It must be a trick, though,* said Jolinar, shaking her head. *Maybe even a double cross, making us doubt our own judgment.*
~Okay, so then what about that bit of wet sand that had dried, a quarter mile back?~ asked Sam.
Jolinar gritted her teeth, looking back over her shoulder where they had come. *We can't know for sure anymore.* Jolinar didn't say anything like "we're screwed", but she might as well have.
~Damn, damn, damn,~ said Sam.
*My sentiments exactly.* Jolinar stood up and looked once ahead and once back. A warm wind had picked up, slowly ruining any clues they could have gotten from the sand *The safest thing is to go back and give our trail another look.*
Sam could feel Jolinar's revulsion at being fooled like this, and even she couldn't seem to see a solution, still caught up in feeling as if her mind had failed her. Finally, she said, ~What's his point?~
*Escape,* said Jolinar. *What else?*
~There isn't any prize he'd want to take on his way out? Otherwise, why not attack the gate?~
*Like what?* asked Jolinar. She had been about ready to start back, but paused, the piece of cloth still in her hand.
~What would make him accepted to Apophis after he failed in giving the Tok'ra's location?~ asked Sam back.
*Of all of us, Garshaw is the most wanted among the Goa'uld, but she is far too protected for any such attempt by one man,* said Jolinar, as if she was thinking out loud. *If not her, then I would be the next target.*
Sam and Jolinar paused. ~No way,~ said Sam. ~It can't be.~
*It does not make sense,* agreed Jolinar. *He could have made many attempts by now.*
Sam silently agreed, but they both knew that there was still something fishy. No other option being available, however, Jolinar turned around and began quickly back along their trail. By now, the sand might have covered up any tracks, but perhaps something might shed light on this.
The wind was now blowing full on them, not too hard or too warm, but with just enough sand to irritate. Sam endured it, but silently wished for her sunglasses and wondered if Reyfa would be interested in working on something like that. Jolinar paused after a couple minutes, looking around where they now stood.
~Is this it?~ asked Sam.
*The landscape is similar,* Jolinar said, reaching down to gently shift the top layer of sand.
It was likely that the clump of sand left from Cordesh's dripping water would fall apart on contact, but Sam figured that Jolinar would feel it anyway. She was surprised when Jolinar stood up and flung the sand off her hand. ~What?~
*It's just water on sand,* said Jolinar. *How could it possibly say anything one way or another?*
Commiserating for a moment in the frustration, Sam didn't respond. Then, they both jumped as the Tok'ra communicator beeped. Reaching deep into her pocket, Jolinar pulled it out, suddenly curious.
"Yes?" she said, a little shortly but that probably didn't sound all too different.
"Jolinar, you are needed back at the base immediately," came the now-familiar voice of Shan'ak, the gate-guarding Tok'ra. He sounded a little breathless.
"What happened?" asked Jolinar, her mood falling sharply.
"We believe it was Cordesh, but the attack was over before we could see," he answered. "He killed another of us, and then was gone before we could do anything."
"Which way?"
"To the northwest."
"We're on it," finished Jolinar, putting the communicator back. She stood up and frowned. *Northwest. Back towards his trail. He doubled back to fool us.* Her hand clenched and unclenched.
~He can't possibly think he can take you down, can he?~ asked Sam.
Whipping out her tiny energy weapon, Jolinar slipped it over her fingers and marched straight forward, the sun at her back. Sam didn't ask again, not needing to. Jolinar didn't know either, but she also didn't care at this point. Another one of their own had died, and she was going to make sure the bastard got what he deserved for it.
ooooooo
Daniel stepped out of his car and up the steps to the university. He didn't need directions anymore; he had spent a couple years of his life here, he knew exactly where to go. Passing from the sharp summer air into the dusty warmth of the building, he let himself slow down a little. All the young men and women walking by with books and papers in their hands provoked a strange nostalgia in him, making him recall all those days when this one world was big enough. It also made him feel a little old, seeing their fresh faces, but that was no matter.
Climbing up the last flight of stairs, he shifted his file folder to his left arm to knock twice on the door.
"Come in," came Dr. Jordan's voice through the door.
Daniel opened it, and smiled as he walked in, looking around at all the artifacts lying around on towels and newspaper.
"Welcome back," said Dr. Jordan, adjusting his glasses and stepping forward to shake Daniel's hand. "It was so good to get your call."
Since Daniel couldn't reveal anything until Dr. Jordan signed the nondisclosure agreement, their conversation had been nothing more than intriguing. Daniel talked about all the amazing work he had been doing, and how it was so classified he couldn't even talk about it in general terms. Jordan had wanted to know more, and so Daniel had scheduled an appointment. When he asked Hammond for the clearance, Hammond had hesitated, asking Daniel if someone so near retirement would be a wise choice. Daniel had chuckled a little, assuring Hammond that not only was Dr. Jordan not ready for retirement, his wisdom and experience would be invaluable if he accepted. So now Daniel was here.
"Truthfully, I wasn't sure you wanted to hear from me," he said, shaking his old professor's hand firmly. "But Catherine convinced me I should give a try. Catherine Langford?" he added, seeing Dr. Jordan's confusion.
"Ah, the Langfords," Jordan said. "I believe I came across that name when trying to find out where you were, Daniel. Please, take a seat, if you can find one." He waved around at the couple buried chairs, returning to his own seat around the table.
Daniel tucked the file folder under his arm and carefully picked up the bronze helmet on the nearest chair. "Ooh, Minoan?" he said, holding it with the towel as he looked over it.
"We are not quite sure yet," said Dr. Jordan. "But look at the inscription!"
"Linear B—that's strange," said Daniel, frowning and peering closely. "And early Greek?" He glanced to Dr. Jordan.
"No, it's not a translation, unfortunately," said Dr. Jordan. "But we think they may be related."
"Sounds exciting," said Daniel, gently putting the helmet on a nearby shelf and sitting down.
"So, what have you brought for me?" asked Dr. Jordan, nodding towards the file folder.
"Well, unfortunately, before I can tell you more you need to sign this," said Daniel, opening the folder and pushing forward a paper.
"Politics," muttered Dr. Jordan with disapproval, glaring at the page.
"I know," said Daniel, "but this one's worth it."
Dr. Jordan looked up at him from beneath one eyebrow, then reluctantly reached for a pen. He had to push around a couple things to find one, but then he signed. Daniel nearly sighed in relief. He had been more nervous than he admitted, but now he was getting excited. This was what he had always hoped for, to get a chance to prove to his mentor that he wasn't a receptacle of wasted time and effort. He just had never imagined it would actually happen.
ooooooo
The sun was straight over head and blazing down on the desert, piercing through the heat-reflectant Tok'ra suit and adding physical heat to the simmering frustration in Jolinar and Sam. Cordesh was headed straight for them, as far as they could tell. He was baiting them for some unknown reason, using lives as a price he knew they couldn't pass up. The only thing now was—who would find whom first? Would he wait for them in some hollow, or would they pass each other on chance and only the fastest draw would come out alive?
Sam knew that Jolinar's emotions over this whole issue were clouding some things, but she trusted in her experience and expertise to keep alertness and agility still at their highest. She trusted them enough to keep silent and let her work in peace. The news of Cordesh's attack had come just as they were at their closest to the base, and after only three hours they were just over halfway there. No sign of Cordesh, but now they weren't looking for signs.
The landscape had grown all sandy again, large waves of sand everywhere they could look, being gently shaped by the ever-present breeze. It wasn't the perfect place for an ambush, but that didn't mean anything if Cordesh was desperate enough. And given his apparent strategy, that seemed likely.
Jolinar pushed forward at her fastest speed, not quite jogging but near enough, and Sam was grateful for the symbiote's added strength. She had never been weak by any stretch of the word, but neither had she been a runner, either short or long distance. These past two days of tracking under the sun would have been hard on her without Jolinar.
Slipping a little in the sand, Jolinar placed another determined step to get to the top of this tall dune. The sand again gave way again, just as her head peeked over the top, and she slipped down just as an energy blast flew past. The instant smell of burned hair and the sound of singeing suddenly brought everything into focus.
*Cordesh,* hissed Jolinar. She slipped back down the dune and brought up her hand to hold near her chest, ready to aim at any second. Silently, smoothly, she went swiftly to the right until the dune grew shorter. Her hand and the weapon immediately followed her head as she looked around. No one was there.
Not moving, she listened. Sam would have held her breath, but there wasn't breath to hold when Jolinar was in control. There was a slight rushing sound to their left, and Jolinar swung her arm without moving the rest of her body. Crouching, she took one silent step forward, listening.
Ahead there was a flash of dark brown, and Jolinar fired before thinking. It disappeared, and she couldn't know if she hit it. Running up and over the small hillock, she was ready to fire again when she saw a small lithe figure just beyond. With a perfectly aimed shot, she clipped him in the leg and was on him before he was fully down.
One hand still aiming her weapon, she tackled and pinned him to the ground. It was Kurlsa's host and so—Cordesh.
"Fool," she hissed aloud.
"It is the Tok'ra who are fools," he spat at her, eyes flashing with a harsh glare. "It is not my fault that I thought of them as too wary and weak."
"You are trying to provoke me into making a mistake," said Jolinar. "It will not work. Your crimes have been enough, Cordesh; I will not give you a chance."
Cordesh's eyes widened as Jolinar pointed her weapon straight at his forehead, but he didn't struggle.
~Wait, Jolinar!~ protested Sam, horrified that Jolinar was just going to shoot him here and now. ~Jolinar, the host!~
Jolinar paused, her finger still half-pressing the trigger. Sam could feel that every bone in her body wanted to kill Cordesh, wound him, pound out her frustration on him. And Cordesh didn't object. "This is what you wanted?" asked Jolinar in a low voice. "Death?"
"Better than your interrogation!" snarled Cordesh.
Jolinar back-fisted him full on the face with a grimace, knocking him out. Sighing, pulling out her communicator, she spoke into it. "Cordesh is subdued. We will return with him soon." Not even bothering to listen to the answer, she pulled out a syringe to sedate him before throwing the limp body over her shoulder like a heavy sack.
~What was that?~ demanded Sam. ~How could you just forget about the host like that?~
*I beg pardon,* answered Jolinar. *It is an old habit, that is all.*
Sam was about to respond, but then she paused. This was something that needed much more focused attention after this was all over. She held back and remained silent as they trudged across the sands.
ooooooo
"But, aliens?" asked Dr. Jordan, scratching his head. "This, Daniel, I cannot understand."
"It's not as strange as it sounds, really," said Daniel, conveniently forgetting that which was. "Most of them are human—from Earth, actually."
"But after all this time, how can they possibly be similar?" asked Jordan. "I don't pretend to know all about geology and astrophysics, but surely the evolution on another planet would be significantly different even after a couple thousand years. Why should the remains of their cultures require our archaeology?"
Daniel shook his head. "It's—it's not just about that. It's like...if they found the ruins of Atlantis on Earth today, a whole new civilization, wouldn't you be interested?"
Jordan sat back in his chair, looking at Daniel from under his brows. "That goes without question," he muttered.
"That's how I see this," said Daniel, resting his forearms on the table as he leaned forward. "It's whole new worlds out there, whole new peoples. And yes, I know that isn't quite your area, but we can't learn about who these people are now until we help them learn who they once were." He stopped, one hand still hanging in the air.
Jordan looked at him closely, dark grey eyes trying to look past the glasses and see into those open ones opposite. Daniel looked back, expectant and anticipating all at the same time. Jordan took a deep breath and exhaled, picking up the pen from the nondisclosure agreement and putting it back between the clay pot and the gold inlaid death mask where he had found it.
"You say this is a government run facility, military run?" he asked.
"Yes," said Daniel. "There's only a couple archaeologists, myself included, because they didn't realize that finding new technology wouldn't be straightforward. But now they're seeing the light, or they at least understand when I tell them there's a need."
Jordan looked down for a second, hiding his face, then looked back up with a soft smile. "Daniel Jackson," he said, "you have no idea what this means to me. At my age, I did not expect such a surprise."
Daniel smiled, nodding.
"But," Jordan said, raising an eyebrow, "but, I am not sure I can accept your offer."
Daniel was confused.
"I cannot just leave behind everything to disappear under NORAD, dear boy, without causing much chaos," explained Jordan. "I still teach two classes here, and Stephen and Sarah and I have our own projects on the side."
"I didn't know they were still with you," said Daniel, his smile just slightly strained as his hopes began to fall a little.
"Did you know Stephen is about to publish a book?" asked Jordan, possibly missing Daniel's reaction. "It's good—I've read it."
"We haven't been in touch," said Daniel, sitting back up from where he'd been leaning. "So, the answer's 'no'?"
"The answer's 'maybe', Daniel," said Jordan, clasping his hands and letting them rest in his lap. "I was never going to go to other planets and do fieldwork; I can't even do that on my own planet anymore. But if you really do want my help, I can look over artifacts and send you my opinion on it. Would that be feasible?"
Daniel's face relaxed a little. "Yes, yes, that would be good of course. Actually, though, what would be even more useful is if you could be on the lookout for people who might be open to that kind of job; I really can't oversee every archaeological dig on every planet."
"Oh, of course," said Jordan, smiling. "And—is it possible that I could come once and see this Stargate of yours?"
"I'm sure we could make that work," said Daniel, his smile wide.
"Good, good," said Jordan, settling comfortably in his chair.
"I guess we'll be in touch then," said Daniel, reaching for the nondisclosure agreement.
"I hope so," said Jordan, handing it to him and standing up.
Daniel rose, closing his folder and standing up to put out his hand.
"Daniel," said Jordan after they shook hands one final time. "Have you spoken to Robert Rothman recently?"
"No," admitted Daniel. "I, um, kind of vanished into thin air, in a manner of speaking. Besides, I don't think anyone's interested in catching up with the crazy one."
"Actually, Robert came to reminisce a month or so back, and he mentioned you fondly," said Jordan. "Perhaps I should give you his number? I think he's been taking a break from work recently."
"Yeah, yes, that would be great," said Daniel. "Thanks for all your help."
"No problem, Daniel," said Jordan, putting his hands in the large pockets of his coat. "You won't believe it, but I never stopped thinking of you as one of my best students. I'm glad you've been able to thrive at last."
Daniel didn't know what to say so he ducked his head, nodding to Dr. Jordan before leaving the room. He held his head high on the way back through the campus, the hint of a smile still clinging to the corner of his mouth. Catherine had been right, as usual. And things were looking up for him—just a little. After all the failures recently, he felt like he deserved this.
—
Author's Note: Just a note on Cordesh's motivation. Sam assumed that he was either arrogant or crazy, but instead, he's suffering from the Goa'uld/Tok'ra idea of a good death. He can't bear the idea of being captured and removed from a host to die, so he provokes Jolinar to finish him off, a tactic which she barely recognizes in time (there's also a bit of malice in trying to get her to do the unthinkable for a Tok'ra, for which Sam will confront her very soon).