Daughter
A/N: We've got a major chapter here, pivotal for the story. Told you I've got big plans for the heroine. First taste of it here. Please enjoy. Let me know what you think might happen. Happy New Year!
Chapter 46 – Undercover
A tel'tak landed in an empty field where Crawford was waiting. Its pilot could see through the forward port that he had a prisoner. His arm was outstretched, holding a blaster to the person's head.
The smuggler placed the cargo ship in standby mode and got up to open the hatch. It creaked as it descended to the ground to act as a ramp. He stood impatiently at the opening, waiting for the heavy door to open. These Goa'uld-made ships were old in design. Mundane actions such as these were never built with urgency in mind.
Once the ramp fully descended, the smuggler could see that his new bounty hunter acquaintance had indeed been successful. A female Jaffa was on her knees before him. She had a piece of cloth wrapped around her mouth like a gag. Her hands were obviously bound behind her. He didn't recognize the mark on her forehead. But it didn't matter. They were all the same.
If her manner of dress didn't tell him that she was a Jaffa, then the icy glare she was directing at him did. Despite being tied up and at a disadvantage, she was still holding onto her pride as she gazed back at him menacingly. His eyes swept over her curves. He licked his lips. They would be in hyperspace soon enough. Perhaps there was enough time to have some fun before the drop.
The smuggler gestured for Crawford to come aboard now.
The bounty hunter pushed his blaster into the back of the female's head. "Up," he commanded.
She stood. Her knees were red and pock-marked from being on the cold, hard ground for so long. Little bits of grass dirtied her otherwise smooth, delectable legs. The smuggler found himself even more satisfied now that he could see her fully. This was turning out to be a pleasant job. He could get used to this line of work.
Crawford urged her forward and up the ramp. She kept her chin held high as she walked.
The smuggler reached out with intentions of grabbing her hair as she passed.
But Crawford shot out a hand to stop him. It gripped forcefully on his forearm. "We don't taint the merchandise before delivery," he admonished. His blaster was still carefully trained on his prisoner.
The smuggler frowned in disappointment and retracted his hand. "So much for getting to know you," he said slyly toward the Jaffa.
She only glared back in response. Then she was pushed further into the ship. The ramp ascended to close up the hatch.
Smith appeared from the brush with a modified dart gun. He immediately fired a shot at the tel'tak. The ship rose up off the ground with a tracker now stuck to its hull. "Vessel is tagged," he reported into his hidden radio. The tel'tak disappeared among the clouds.
"We're reading the signal loud and clear," Baker acknowledged.
"Hustle on back, Corporal," Reynolds ordered.
"Sir." Smith re-triggered the safety on his weapon and dashed back into the brush.
The Firefly tailed them from a safe distance. They needed to follow from far enough away so that the tel'tak wouldn't notice. The tracker served as added insurance that they wouldn't lose them if the ship suddenly changed course.
It was Elda's idea to re-use the Zershan transmitter originally given to the Hak'tyl. When the SGC commandeered the Ha'tak from Jack and Jasuf's kidnappers, they also confiscated everything else from them, too. Elda implored Colonel Mitchell to make sure they retrieved the calling card she had slyly slipped into one of their boots. She knew it could be useful again. And that time was now.
Before they left the SGC, she pried the transmitter out of its flat metal case with a knife and discarded the card. Then with an armorer's help, she carefully placed it inside a new housing that could be shot out of a dart gun like a bullet. The techs on base assured her that it would be sticky enough to catch onto any ship's hull and stay there, even through atmospheric entry and escape.
Colonel Reynolds eyed the pilot's HUD as the autopilot spit out a play-by-play of what it was doing. Stats were continuously updating on the screen in Goa'uld. Everything was in the green. The autopilot seemed to be performing as expected, following the Zershan tracker. On the other console, Baker's display was showing the tracker's location in real time. It noted speed and distance. The system even had the ability to go back into the tracker's records to see where it had been before.
SG-3 already took a peek at its history, seeing key events like time on the Hak'tyl planet and prolonged travel at hyperspace speeds. It all corresponded to what they heard happened to Jack and Jasuf. And it only reminded Reynolds that he still had a puzzle to put together. How did those two, out of everyone in this galaxy, end up kidnapped together? What was the connection? He was working on that mystery in the back of his mind as they flew.
"Sir," Baker spoke up. "We're getting a call."
"Put it on."
Baker hit the command in Goa'uld to comply. "Firefly, this is the SGC. Come in." The Lieutenant swiped the display over to Reynolds's side.
"SGC, this is Firefly. We read you," the CO answered.
"Sitrep?" It was Colonel Carter's voice.
"Mission is on-going. Corporal Crawford made successful contact with the mark. The ruse is in play. He and Elda are on board some tel'tak the smuggler managed to procure and are en route to the supposed buyers. Homing beacon is working as advertised."
"Any problems so far?"
"None, SGC. Everything is moving ahead as planned."
"Send us the coordinates so we can forward it to the Hammond."
"Copy." Reynolds looked over to see that Baker was already complying with the order.
"Coordinates received. Set the clock, Colonel. Check-in will be two hours from end of transmission."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Godspeed, SG-3." The line cut off. Reynolds tapped at his watch to set the timer.
"Sir?" Smith sounded off from behind them. He had been leaning on the storage console this whole time, still in his bounty hunter-esque garb. "Why was Colonel Carter calling instead of the General?"
Reynolds craned his neck toward his subordinate to squint at him. "Why do you ask, Corporal?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. Was kind of assuming it would be the General checking up on us, is all." They all knew Carter wasn't a regular member of the base anymore. She wasn't technically in command. Of anything. They honestly weren't sure what she was doing these days. They just knew she'd earned everyone's respect and she could still give orders if she felt like it.
Baker didn't bother to look away from his screens. "Maybe the General is busy," he suggested.
"Or maybe the General is putting her on point with monitoring our op. Who knows, Corporal," Reynolds said.
Smith quirked a smile. "Trust the process, sir?"
"That's right."
Nothing was more aggravating than that concept, but sometimes they still had to do it anyway.
"What is the prisoner doing?" the smuggler called out from the pilot's seat of the cargo ship.
"The Jaffa version of sleeping," Crawford replied as he returned from the cargo hold where she was being kept. He was checking on her regularly through the ride, making sure she was still good and secure. Or so the smuggler thought.
"I believe they call it kel'no'reem."
"Yeah, whatever." His tone implied that he could give two shits. All he cared about was getting to the drop. Crawford leaned over the shoulder of the smuggler now. "How much longer?"
"Just under an hour." His hands continued to hover over the orb that controlled the ship. "So tell me about yourself, bounty hunter. Do you have a name?"
"Sure, I have a name."
"Care to share it with me?"
"No."
The smuggler's face contorted. "Then what am I supposed to call you?"
"Your boss."
"I thought I was only your acquaintance."
Crawford leaned in more to put his face close to his. His expression was far from amused.
Now slightly intimidated, the smuggler backed off. "Alright, Boss, what happens when we reach our destination?"
"Don't know yet. If there's a ship waiting for us, we request to board it. If not, we figure it out."
"And if we do board another vessel, I take it we sail into its docking bay as a whole, correct?"
"Or use rings, if they have 'em."
"You really don't know what's going to happen, do you?" the smuggler asked glumly.
"I thought I already said that," Crawford said with a warning tone. The smuggler frowned. Maybe he wouldn't learn much on this journey after all. His new acquaintance hardly seemed interested in sharing how anything worked in his profession. He realized he would probably be restricted to watching in order to learn.
The bounty hunter decided he had no interest in hanging around with him. He retreated back into the cargo hold to watch the prisoner. He didn't bother to announce what he was doing either. He simply left.
The smuggler felt disrespected by that. But it's not like the other man would take his complaint seriously, even if he bothered to voice it aloud. His eye twitched as he continued to fly the ship.
With the cargo hold closed and locked, Crawford took a casual seat on the floor next to Elda against one of the crates. She was busy munching on the snack bar she'd brought with her. She held it out in his direction with an unbound hand. "Hungry?"
He leaned down to take a bite. "Thanks," he mumbled around the food.
"How's it going out there?"
"We have under an hour left supposedly."
"Why are you back here with me so soon?"
Crawford looked at her tiredly. "Guy's annoying as fuck."
She giggled a little as she swallowed the last bite. Crawford couldn't help but look when she innocently sucked on the tips of her fingers to clean off the last bits of sticky food residue. His eyes darted away the moment he realized what he was doing. Smith's annoying voice sounded off in his head. He pursed his lips. No, he reminded himself.
Elda got up to stretch. Crawford made it a point to stare at the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her examining the cargo containers. She pulled a lid aside to open one and peek in. "Hmpf."
"What."
"Empty."
"Not surprised."
"Where did your smuggler friend say he got this ship from?"
"He didn't. Does it matter?"
"Probably not," she said nonchalantly.
"What do you think might happen when we get to where we're going?" Crawford asked, echoing the query the smuggler had just made a few minutes ago.
"Well usually these sorts of drops happen on board a larger vessel. In my experience, we would fly our little ship into the bay. One person would stay behind to guard the ship while the other ventures out to deliver the goods and collect payment." She shrugged. "If the drop was on a planet or a moon, it would be much the same thing."
"You and Vala had a system, huh?"
"Yeah, we sorta did by the end."
"What made you two part ways? At least for a little while."
Elda turned away from him to pretend to peer into another crate. The distraction helped cover her facial expression as she tried to think of a lie to maintain her cover. She didn't like being cornered by one of her friends like this. She knew they harbored an innocent curiosity about her simply because they wanted to get to know her. But she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep up the ruse that she'd always been Elda Mal Doran. At least with these marines that she loved so much. The more lies she told, the more lies she would have to keep track of.
"You know Vala's always been so easily distracted."
"Yeah," Crawford agreed, being aware of the other woman's reputation. "So what distracted her?"
Elda turned to quirk a smile at him. "Not a 'what,' but a 'who.'"
Crawford nodded his head in apparent understanding. "Ohhhh, I get it. You're talking about Dr. Jackson."
"Bingo."
He smiled at her correct use of the Earth term. "Your big sister left you for a guy?"
Elda shook her head in amusement. "Crawfy, Darling. Our arrangement was never meant to be permanent. We worked together out of convenience. When Vala got all distracted, I was hardly surprised. It's not like I had a shortage of courier jobs to snap up. I just saw her departure as an opportunity to make other sorts of arrangements." She waggled her brows at him, enigmatically implying she might have been up to no good without her sister's supervision.
Crawford grinned at her. He was getting a whole lot more out of her today than usual. It pleased him. But he knew not to push. She typically shut down and changed the subject whenever he or Smith tried to dive too deep into her past. He knew there was some bad shit there. The way she'd wake up from nightmares back on station was enough proof for him. It was hard on him, too, with memories of his dead dad being dredged up by the toxic gas exposure.
If he hadn't been with Chelsea…
And she didn't have her Jaffa…
He'd probably be kissing her in comfort every night by now.
Crawford shook his head at himself. Nope.
He wasn't even gonna go there.
He didn't ask any more follow-up questions. Elda sensed that he was backing off and felt relief. She now considered the travel time they had left, according to the smuggler. His report could easily have been a lie. If she were that man out there piloting the ship, she would be suspicious that the bounty hunter kept spending so much time in here. He could easily override the lock on that door from the pilot's station and venture in to see what was going on.
She turned fully to Crawford now. "I think you should tie me up."
He blinked, trying very hard to not think of kinky shenanigans in response to that suggestion. "Why?" he settled for asking.
"Smuggler could be coming in here any minute," she stated easily.
He let out a breath as he stood up. He leaned over to grab the cloth bonds they brought with them.
Elda walked over to him and turned around, offering her hands behind her.
"I won't tie it too tight," he promised.
"Tie it as tight as you like," she permitted.
He swallowed.
"It needs to be convincing. Too loose and the buyers will know."
"Elda," he said hesitantly.
She turned her head to him without shifting the rest of her body. It gave him a perfect view of her neck. "Crawford, I can get out of any knots you try on me. Believe me. I'll be fine."
Her confidence was convincing. Without further talk, he bound her hands in a simple knot. Then he reached up to wrap the gag around her mouth gently. The motions had her body leaning back into his briefly. Crawford fought the urge to do anything more than tie the damn cloth behind her artificially-darkened hair.
Baseball. Football. Golf. He desperately tried to think of something else as a distraction from her. Smitty's warning not to touch her floated through his mind.
Crawford couldn't wait for them to get to their destination now.
The Firefly was still in hyperspace chasing after the tel'tak Crawford and Elda were on.
"Tracker's movement has stopped," Baker reported.
Reynolds squinted at his screen. He reached up to swipe at the holographic display so he could find what he was looking for in Goa'uld. "Says here, we're about twenty minutes out."
"Sir, we've got another call incoming. It's on video."
"Bring it up, Lieutenant."
The screen before Baker switched to a video feed from the George Hammond. The ship commander was there. "SG-3, how goes it?" he said congenially.
Reynolds reached over to slide the call over to his side. "Colonel," he greeted warmly.
"We got you on our sensors. Need a ride?"
"Sure. What's your ETA?"
The commander glanced over at a display. "Two minutes. Go ahead and drop out of hyperspace. We'll swing by to pick you up."
"Understood." Reynolds let the call drop and fall away from his view. He reached up to the auto-pilot to enter new commands. Elda had shown him how simple the interface was. There were obvious buttons to represent 'Stop' and 'Go.' Even a child could use it.
The Firefly chimed to signal compliance. Within milliseconds, the ship was gently dropping out as ordered. Between the gravity-pack and the inertial dampeners, it barely lurched. This was a far cry from the first time SG-3 rode this vessel. It wasn't packed full of upgrades back then. Reynolds had been meaning to ask Elda for the full story on how she acquired these. She only cryptically explained that Zersha was all but forced to add them on.
Soon their vessel was in normal space and being overtaken by a much larger ship. Baker's side lit up with new information. "Looks like docking instructions are coming through." He leaned in, trying to use what little he knew of Goa'uld to read this new option being set before him. "I think this means 'accept.'"
Reynolds looked, too. "Yeah, seems right. Go ahead and click it."
Baker did so and the ship chimed again. Now the autopilot showed itself following the directions the Hammond was providing. They saw through the forward port as a dark shadow blocked out the stars in the background. Soon a hangar bay door seemed to be opening, revealing artificial lights from within. The HUD in front of Reynolds displayed a show of colors as it reported how the Firefly was maneuvering itself into the bay. They felt the ship set itself down.
The bay doors crashed closed. Air hissed as oxygen was pumped back so that the Firefly's occupants could safely disembark into the bay. When the pilot's console lit up again, it signaled safe, breathable air was now available outside the hatch.
Smith was already prepared to hit the button.
His two commanding officers unbuckled their harnesses and groaned as they finally stood up. They stretched a little before venturing over to their subordinate's side. "Go ahead, Corporal," Reynolds said.
Smith tapped the command and the door popped open easily. It was a much faster process than the tel'tak their teammates were on. Two crewmembers in flight suits were ready to greet them. They saluted once SG-3 set foot on the Hammond's deck.
"Welcome aboard, sir."
"Thank you," Reynolds replied.
"Ship commander is requesting your presence on the bridge."
"Lead the way."
The tel'tak successfully landed on a moon orbiting a gas giant.
"You stay on the ship," Crawford ordered the smuggler.
"What? Why?"
"Somebody has to guard it and make sure no one steals it from right under our noses." Elda was already marched over to the exit hatch. He held his blaster up to her back. It wasn't technically active, so there was no danger of him accidentally damaging the goods he meant to deliver. But he could easily activate the weapon in a hurry if he needed to.
The smuggler pulled out his own weapon and aimed it at Crawford.
The marine remained still.
He gave him a distrustful look. "I go with you or you get left behind."
Crawford rolled his eyes. "Fine. But if someone steals this ship then we're both screwed." He pointed a free hand at him. "And if that happens, best believe I'll be offering you up as payment for my next ride outta here," he warned.
The other man simply glared at him. He hit the button on the wall to release the door and let it drop into a ramp.
When the achingly-slow door finally opened, the trio stepped down onto the surface of the moon. The air smelled of dust and rocks. A dry heat assaulted their bodies. It was comparable to late spring in Las Vegas, in Crawford's opinion. He would have commented about it, but neither of his companions would have any idea what he was talking about.
He pretended to dig his blaster into Elda's back to push her forward.
A tall man in robes appeared before them. His height forced Crawford to tip his chin up to meet his eyes. He hadn't encountered someone this tall in a while.
"Another bounty fulfilled, I see," the man noted, gazing over at Elda. "And a very healthy one at that." He seemed to regard her admiringly.
Elda only stared at him suspiciously. She couldn't make a retort, gagged as she was.
The tall buyer now locked eyes with Crawford. "Your payment will be brought forth," he announced.
Two people in simple jumpsuits wheeled a large crate forward.
Crawford eyed the box. He tilted his head at the smuggler. "Go check it," he commanded.
"Right." The other man eagerly stepped forward toward the crate. He glared at the two workers. They backed up.
Elda narrowed her eyes as she watched them. They were leaving the smuggler a lot of room. Maybe too much room.
The smuggler flipped open the lid easily and peered inside. His eyes darted about at its contents, quietly counting rocks. He turned back to lock eyes with Crawford. "The naquedah is here in raw form as promised on the bounty," he confirmed.
A hissing sound seemed to catch his attention. When he turned back toward the crate, a cloud of gas puffed up into his face.
The smuggler began hacking and coughing immediately. He reached up to his neck as he struggled for air.
Crawford and Elda's eyes went wide.
The tall buyer simply looked on, unbothered by the scene.
The workers just stood there. Waiting.
The man collapsed.
Crawford's eyes shot toward the buyer. "What is this!?"
"Your payment," he said.
One of the workers pulled out a zat and shot the struggling man on the ground. The blue energy waved enveloped him and calmed his convulsions. Then another shot rang out. He was now very dead.
A third shot erased his body from existence completely.
The other worker closed the lid of the crate. He wheeled it back the way they came.
"Your vessel will make a fine addition to our fleet," the buyer said with pleasure. He took a small step toward Crawford, who activated his blaster and aimed it at him defensively.
Elda's wrists started wiggling within her bonds behind her. Workers suddenly appeared to grasp her upper arms. Her eyes shot to Crawford's in alarm. They began hauling her away.
The buyer continued to stare at him. "And you will be useful in the mine."
Crawford felt a zat make contact with his temple. A hand reached out to relieve him of his blaster. Then his arms were forcefully brought behind him and locked into cuffs. He could feel cold, hard metal bounding his wrists together. He tried desperately to see where Elda was being taken, but the workers were pushing him away.
The buyer simply followed in the direction that his latest Jaffa prize had gone.
Elda was led deep into the bowels of some sort of sprawling facility. She tried to maintain awareness of how many turns they made and how many steps were required inbetween. But considering the circular maze and the handful of lifts that were used, she had no hope of finding her way back out if she escaped. She realized she'd need to find some sort of map and hope it was labeled in a way she could understand. Thus far she had seen no markings on the walls to help her.
The silent workers pushed her into a windowless room and shut the door.
There were about a dozen Jaffa trapped there. She turned to gaze at the door. Her eyes darted around its perimeter, noting it had a simple mechanism to open and shut it. Unfortunately, the controls for the door were on its other side. She saw no seams on the wall she could try to dig her fingernails into to pop open a hidden panel of any sort. This wouldn't be an exit she could use on her own.
Elda turned to survey the room. She ignored the other occupants for the time being, who remained quiet. She saw how the white walls continued on without paneling. The ceiling rose high above them. Simple lights hung down to illuminate the space. Basic blank boxes were scattered about, many serving as seats for her fellow prisoners.
One Jaffa approached her cautiously. "Chel hol, Sister," he said. He reached out his hands toward her as if asking for permission. "I can release your bonds," he offered.
Elda nodded. She patiently waited while the Jaffa freed her. He seemed to be similar in age to her. As she looked around, all of the people here were. "Thank you, Brother," she said, carefully controlling her tone. She wasn't ready to reveal to anyone here that she was human. Not yet. Any one of these people here could actually be a spy. She needed to know more before she read any of them in. And she couldn't hope to declare that she was here to rescue them if she didn't even have a way out yet.
She inclined her head ever so slightly toward the Jaffa, in the manner that was appropriate between those who did not yet know each other. "What is your name, Jaffa?" she asked with a flatter tone.
He regarded the floor with shame. "I do not know."
Her eyes narrowed. "Have you been injured? You do not know your origin?"
He shook his head and gestured behind him. "All of us suffer the same affliction. You soon will as well."
"I do not intend to suffer from any affliction, Jaffa. I mean to leave this place with haste." He turned to watch as Elda went straight to a wall and began walking the room's perimeter. Her hands felt along it, searching for an imperfection that could be a sign of something she could use. Even if she could pop a panel off the wall and hit someone over the head with it, that would be better than nothing. The group glanced tiredly at her, seemingly resigned to just sit and wait until she realized there was no way out, except through the single door.
Within a few moments, their wait ended. Elda realized what the Jaffa already knew.
She grit her teeth.
What would her mother do in this situation?
Talk to the people who were trapped in here and find out more about their captors. Observe what happened when the single door opened and see if there were opportunities to escape.
Maybe she couldn't get them all out at once. But if she could slip away on her own, she could determine some other way to liberate these poor Jaffa.
And she knew the rest of her team was on the way, supposedly following close behind. Maybe they had even linked up with the Hammond by now, if it wasn't called away on some other emergency by the SGC.
Now she thought worriedly of Crawford. She hoped very much that he was still okay. They had not hurt her, yet. She tried to draw optimism from that.
Elda turned to the Jaffa now. Their expressions were hopeless. "How long have you been here, Brothers and Sisters?"
"Many days," one replied forlornly. "Many, many days."
"Were you all brought here against your wills, as I was?"
They nodded. She hoped they were too fatigued to catch her in any of her small lies. Elda was acutely aware that her inability to maintain falsehoods among Jaffa was one of her greatest weaknesses. Her mate might be the first to agree, given the chance. It was a sore subject between them. She kept her original identity a secret from him for too long. He might have forgiven her by now, but it still bothered her that she hurt him in the first place. Even if it was necessary.
"We cannot remember our pasts," another Jaffa shared.
"But we can each recall being brought here by various humans who meant to extract payment for our delivery."
Elda stared at them. "And what became of these foul humans?"
"They were all murdered," a Jaffa said with disgust. "They were rewarded with death instead of the naquedah they had come for."
She fought the human expression that wanted to form on her face over that report. She forced her facial muscles to stay put. Only her eyes moved. "I struggle to understand the utility in murdering those who would bring you that which you requested." It truly baffled her. At some point the bounty hunters of this galaxy would notice their mutual friends and colleagues failing to return from here. This buyer was rendering himself untouchable, shamed by all in the profession.
The few Jaffa willing to speak with her tilted their heads in a shrug.
She slowly breathed in and out. "What transpires beyond that door?" she now asked.
The Jaffa glanced at each other uncomfortably. The first one, the kind one who released her, spoke for them. "Sister, I fear it is unwise to tell you."
Her heart began to palpitate. Elda could have asked why, but she wasn't sure she really wanted to know. The fear in this Jaffa's eyes was enough to give her pause. She knew she needed to get out of here. Yesterday.
"Sir, we're coming up on the coordinates," the navigator reported.
"Bring up a visual," the ship commander ordered.
Reynolds stood next to him, staring out the forward port. He could see the gas giant the Firefly's navigation system told them about. And there was the habitable moon that Crawford supposedly brought Elda to. A holographic display appeared before them, zooming in on signs of civilization. Ships were parked in neat rows. Large structures stood nearby. A mine was on the other end of the settlement.
"Any hits on subcutaneous transmitters?"
"We're reading two," an ops officer reported. "But the signals are interrupted."
Baker leaned over the officer's console. "What do you mean?"
Smith also craned his neck to look.
"There's interference, sir. It wouldn't be safe to try to beam anyone in or out."
"Well, that doesn't sound good," Smith commented.
"Are they together?" Reynolds asked.
"Negative, sir. They seem to be on opposite sides of the compound."
The Colonel reached up to rub his chin in thought. He wasn't necessarily surprised. If Elda was a bounty, she likely would have been brought somewhere else by now. "Let's see if we can bring up Crawford on the radio."
The comms officer stationed off to the side attempted to comply. He only received static. "No response, sir."
The members of SG-3 shared looks. "It's Wednesday, isn't it?" Smith deadpanned.
Baker shook his head. Losing contact with a team member was annoyingly common in their line of work.
"Day's not over yet, Corporal," Reynolds retorted. He locked eyes with him. "You're up."
"Orders, sir?"
"Take the Firefly and get down to the surface. Start asking questions. Find out what's going on with our people."
"I take it you're staying up here, Colonel?" Smith clarified.
"That is correct. We cannot be seen."
Baker added, "No telling if our smuggler will be there to recognize us again."
"On top of that," the ship commander cut in, "we can't punch a signal through for transporters. We're better off not putting all our eggs into a basket just yet."
The team nodded.
"Move out," Reynolds ordered of Smith.
"Yes, sir." He promptly left the bridge and headed back toward the bay.
The Firefly opened its hatch automatically upon sensing Smith's presence. The crew manning the bay glanced over in awe at the way the Zershan ship behaved. They had all approached it to take a peek while SG-3 was away, but it never responded to them like that. Smith seemed to regard its action as nothing out of the ordinary and hurriedly boarded the ship. The hatch whined closed after him.
He sat down in the pilot's seat and brought up autopilot. He used his left hand to reach over to the other HUD and activate comms. "Hammond, ready when you are." He wasn't familiar with any of the pilot lingo the airmen like to use. He didn't really care to learn either. So long as everybody understood each other, that would be enough for him.
An alarm sounded around the bay, warning the crew to get to safe spaces where air flow would be maintained. Smith watched out the forward port as personnel jogged to the perimeter of the bay and positioned themselves behind blast doors. No one seemed alarmed. They regarded this as routine.
Lights flashed and a different alarm went off. Through the walls of the shuttle, Smith could hear air being sucked out of the bay. The Hammond wasn't about to waste perfectly good air. It was moving it to storage tanks set up just outside the bay before the doors opened up to vacuum. Then once Smith left, the air would be returned and the crew could get back to whatever the hell it was they did in here.
While he waited, Smith told the autopilot where he wanted to go. It chimed and brought up a proposed flight path on the holographic display. He simply clicked on the image to approve it.
The lights changed to warning red and now the bay doors opened. "Firefly, you are clear to disembark," a voice from the bridge said.
Smith hit the Goa'uld button for 'Go,' and Elda's little ship zoomed off.
When the single door of the holding cell opened, two workers immediately collected Elda. They hauled her out forcefully, despite her loud protests in Goa'uld. The Jaffa looked on with trepidation. No one attempted to help her.
She was brought to a lab in another part of the facility. As they pushed her forward, countless large vats lined the pathway. Inside each one was a Jaffa with a breather mask surrounded by liquid. She could tell they were Jaffa because of the marks on their foreheads and the fact that they were all naked. The star-shaped openings of their pouches were on full display. None of them appeared to be conscious. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of them stuck in these bubbling tanks.
It was horrifying.
Her heart began to beat wildly. She didn't want to imagine why they were all here. She just knew it couldn't be good.
She was brought before a set of doors. Elda watched as one of the workers waved a wrist device over a control panel. She glanced at the other worker. He had a matching device on his own arm. She decided that she would try to steal one of those the next chance she got. Then she'd work on acquiring a weapon. She would take anything at this point.
Her fingers itched for the blaster Jasuf had gifted her. She left it on her ship.
Inside this smaller lab was a large, flat table. Pointy instruments hovered over it. Vials filled with liquids sat organized on shelves nearby. A tall figure hovered behind the table. She was brought before him.
It was the buyer. "Welcome," he said without much fanfare.
"You have no right to keep those Jaffa. Release them," she demanded. Elda held little hope that the tall man would comply.
"If I did that, then I would be sentencing them to death," he replied lightly. "You misunderstand the purpose of their presence here, young Jaffa. I mean to help them."
"Help them? By imprisoning them without dignity?" she asked incredulously. Elda felt offended on their behalf. The Jaffa were as much her people now as any of the humans she was loyal to on Earth. They had shown her acceptance and love. She had to free these Brothers and Sisters.
She simply had to.
The workers brought her closer to the table. Her eyes caught sight of the sharp ends of the foreboding devices near it. "No!" she yelled, struggling against their grasp.
"Do not resist, young Jaffa," the man said calmly. "It will only hurt more."
"I'll show you hurt," Elda retorted. Her boot kicked out to stamp the foot of one of her captors. It was just enough to make him lose his balance temporarily. She swung her body weight around to use his strong grip on her arm to her advantage. He toppled wildly onto the table, behind which the tall buyer remained unflinching.
She brought her knee up into the gut of the man on her other side, making him force out a breath. His grasp on her loosened. She attacked with an uppercut and another good kick, sending him flying off to the side of the room. She turned around to block a strike from the first worker. She pivoted to bring an elbow into his face, then spun to bring a knee up into his crotch. Stunned, he doubled-over, giving her the perfect opportunity to smack him upside the head and knock him out with a final punch.
Her eyes burned red with fury as she directed her attention to the buyer now. He had thus far moved very little, watching her with aggravating patience. His hand reached into his robes and brought out a canister that she recognized. His expression finally changed into a little smirk. "It would seem you are too much trouble to be worth it." His thumb immediately pressed down on a button, causing the canister to let out steam in a hiss. The air began to fill with a dark green gas.
Elda offered him a little smirk of her own. "I have news for you," she said menacingly through gritted teeth. "You picked the wrong Sister to mess with."
His eyes widened when she did not fall ill from the symbiote poison that was spewing into the air.
Elda hopped up onto the metal table, grabbing one of the pointed instruments.
She forced it into his chest.
His mouth gurgled and his eyes gaped wide at her in complete surprise. He could not speak any further now with blood filling his mouth and spilling out. Elda twisted the sharp tool within him, taking sweet revenge for what had been done to the Jaffa.
He fell to the ground in a heap.
The metal instrument remained attached to its rigging above. It dripped with blood.
Her chest heaved and she closed her eyes. She hadn't taken a life in a long, long time. He wasn't the first. But this guilt that suddenly overwhelmed her was a feeling she could never, ever get used to. Even though every single time, she had been justified.
When the Firefly landed on the ground, there was no resistance. Smith expected some sort of communication from a central control room or something. But the moon was silent. He refrained from exiting the ship, deciding to evaluate his situation first now that he was on the surface.
He hit the comms to see if he could raise anybody.
"Crawfy? Baby Cakes?"
He got nothing in return.
"Well, shit, you two," he muttered. "Y'all better not be bangin' in a back room or something!"
Smith shook his head, not actually believing they'd do such a thing.
He switched the communication system to a less specific frequency. Now he broadcast on general for anyone to hear, not just those with SGC-issued radios. "Helloooooooo? Anybody there?"
A response came through with a crackle. "Smitty?" Elda's hopeful voice came through.
"Baby! I've got the Firefly down on the moon's surface. Where you at, girl?"
"Oh thank the Gods," she said with relief.
He heard her voice breaking, and it wasn't from static on the comms. He got up to switch seats, having forgotten that he could just swipe the active display over to the side he was already at. He stared at the HUD with concern. "Elda, what's your twenty?" he repeated his question more seriously and with different words.
"I'm deep in the facility. I'm still trying to find a map and a way out."
"Well the Hammond is up in orbit. Can you find a way to shut down the interference that's blocking the transporters?"
"Standby."
Smith waited patiently for a few minutes.
"Darling, bring up the weapons array."
He did as he was told. He grinned. "You want me to shoot something?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes. Have the system target the largest tower on the moon. I think that will do it."
He rubbed his hands together. "Your wish is my command." Smith activated the targeting system. It automatically brought up a menu of choices for him. He picked the Goa'uld symbol for land-based structures. The HUD then presented him with a 3-D layout of the surrounding area. He reached his hand into the image and rotated it around. He poked a finger at the tallest tower. It glowed red, affirming it was being targeted.
Smith found the commands to activate a single warhead. The ship vibrated as the side port opened up, ready to shoot it out. He bared his teeth as he focused on the image. "Pow, pow, pow!" he yelled delightedly as his finger commanded the ship to fire.
A large explosion could be heard in the distance.
"Whoo!" Smith screamed, shooting his hands in the air.
Now the comms system chirped, demanding his attention. He let the weapons array fall into the background. "Smith? What's going on down there?" Reynolds demanded.
"Sir, I made contact with Elda. She gave the Firefly a target to destroy. Can you beam anyone in and out now?"
There was a pause. "We have a strong signal on two of you."
"Which two?"
"One in the shuttle and one in the facility."
"I think that's Elda, sir. Said she's lost inside."
"Do you have a location on Crawford?"
"No, I haven't made contact with him yet."
"Standby, Corporal." Smith waited dutifully. Then Reynolds's voice sounded off again. "We're beaming you straight to her. Get a sitrep from her then check back in."
Smith stood up and ran over to the storage rack across from the hatch. He made it a point to grab Elda's blaster. He had it in his hand just in time to be beamed away.
Crawford's eyes shot up when he heard gunfire. Those were P-90s. The other miners around him gazed around, unsure of what they were hearing.
He hadn't been in here for long. He was keeping his head down, watching for opportunities to overcome his new supervisors and get the hell outta here. He still had to get Elda and find a way off this moon. Maybe his team beat him to it. He didn't mind that one bit.
He automatically ducked when he saw the barrel of a P-90 peek out from around the corner.
Security forces fell into bloody heaps around him as it fired.
"Hey!" he yelled out when the gunfire paused. "Over here!"
"Crawford!" Baker shouted.
"Lieutenant!" He raised his hands up cautiously, letting his fingertips breach the open space above the rock he was using as cover. He stood up with care. He let out an instant breath of relief when he caught sight of his 2IC aiming a weapon at him.
Baker immediately pointed it down and away. "Move!" he ordered.
Crawford hopped to it and followed him out. Ahead of them, Reynolds was watching the corner. He waved them ahead. He patted Crawford's shoulder in greeting as he passed. "Sir? You got Elda?" he asked worriedly.
"We got her, Corporal. She's good."
"That's fucking fantastic, sir."
"Yes it is," he agreed as he took up the rear.
Baker led them to the surface, where the signals from their subcutaneous transmitters could now be detected. The mine had been interfering with Crawford's signal. The lieutenant activated his radio. "Hammond, three to beam up."
The trio disappeared into thin air.
"Elda," Sam called out.
She spun around at the sound of her mother's voice. Elda sighed in relief that she was now here on the Hammond. Her eyes shined.
Sam's face crumpled briefly. "Come here, Baby Girl."
Her daughter ran into her arms and hugged her mother fiercely in the middle of the empty corridor. Elda buried her face into her shoulder.
Sam squeezed her tight. "I brought Carolyn with me like you requested," she said quietly as Elda shuddered.
She pulled back a little and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You got here fast."
"We took shortcuts with the stargates," Sam explained. Elda understood that she had planned to come here on Puddle Jumper 1. "I got the report from Reynolds. Are you okay?"
"Me? I'm fine. It's the Jaffa I'm worried about."
"Yeah. That's a mess."
Elda took in a long, shaky breath. "I promised them that I would get them the best help. Carolyn's the best of the best in my opinion."
"She went straight to Medical as soon as we boarded," Sam said reassuringly.
Elda nodded. "I really hope she can help them."
"She'll do her best. We know she will." Sam stroked her shoulders. "Hey. You did good."
Her daughter closed her eyes and shook her head. She let out another breath then buried her face in Sam's shoulder again. Sam held her for as long as she wanted. Cover story be damned.