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magibrainChapter Summary: Nowhere is safe, no one is certain, and SG-1 splits apart from the strain.
Index post: [Fic] Beneath a Beating Sun - Index
Jack found Daniel in the Archaeology and Linguistics Library, taking too much time and care to select books from the shelves and holding back a nervous breakdown by force of will.
"The translation is your priority," Jack said.
"I know that," Daniel returned. "Hence why I'm in here, getting reference materials."
Jack looked at the bookshelves. So he was. "So you are."
"Is this about something?" Daniel asked.
(Okay, touchy.) He wiped both hands on his jacket. "You're distracted. I know," he offered. "I'm trying to focus your attention."
"Away from something you don't think is important."
Had he possessed slightly more grace, Jack would have backed away. He didn't. "Well, yeah."
"I don't get it," Daniel said. "It's not as if this would be the strangest thing ever to have happened. Why are you so skeptical?"
"Aside from the fact that you have yet to present actual evidence?" Jack asked, heading for the door before Daniel could retort. "It hasn't called me 'sir' yet."
"Because suddenly that's what it comes down to for you," Daniel shot. "Quantifiable evidence."
Jack paused. "What?"
"Strictly speaking we don't know anything," Daniel said. "We don't possess absolute certainty and we can't without knowing all the variables in the universe. We don't know beyond a shadow of a doubt that those Al'kesh are Anbubis's, or that Anubis is coming to destroy us. Maybe it's Ba'al, or Anubis wants our surrender. But we have reasons to assume what we assume, and I'd bet we're right."
"We have evidence."
"We have prior experience from which we deduct. There's a difference." He grabbed an analytic grammar, flipped it opened, skimmed a page and shoved it back onto the shelf.
"Daniel–" Jack began. (You're focusing, but on the totally wrong thing.)
"There's a difference because deduction can give us an idea of what's to come without evidence!" Daniel interrupted. "Intuition. Assumption."
"I get it."
Daniel beat the pile of books into shape and scooped them up, heading for the hall. "Sure you do."
This time it was Jack's turn to put a hand out, to block the door. "Do we need to head down to the boxing ring for a few minutes?" he asked. He wasn't above letting Daniel pummel him if it would help.
"What I need–!" Daniel started, and didn't finish because he had no idea how. He needed galactic peace, a whole and unscarred SG1, time to think, time to work, time and space to breathe. "What do you want from me? Aside from abandoning all hope?"
(Ouch.) Jack didn't wince. "I want to help. Can I?"
"No." Daniel gestured to Jack's arm. Jack didn't move.
"It's a distraction."
"She's important," Daniel said.
"In the grand galactic scheme of things, sure. Let's focus on getting through the week, for now." Jack shook his head. "Given everything else going on, I'm beginning to think we might be better off if it wasn't here," he said. "No offense. But aside from that stunt it pulled with the Stargate–"
"That stunt?" Daniel demanded.
"Don't start," Jack warned.
"Oh, no, far be it for me to argue semantics," Daniel returned, "but are you referring to the stunt that kept Colorado Springs from being ripped apart by tidal stress? That stunt?"
"All right, all right, we owe it our lives," Jack said. "And I'm grateful. I would be more grateful if it'd help out now, or if we had time to devote to extracurriculars. But Anubis–"
"Is coming, yes, I know!" Daniel's hands were shaking. "And believe it or not, she does too! She wants to help, but she doesn't know how – which isn't so surprising, I might add, seeing as we don't either. She's only as useless as the rest of us."
"I'm not saying it's useless," Jack said.
Daniel didn't answer. He wore the grimace he wore when he was trying not to look wounded.
Jack answered with exasperation. "Oh, what is it?"
"It took you five minutes to decide that I was wrong," Daniel said.
"I haven't decided anything."
"Yes, you have."
Daniel ducked away, slipping under his arm. Jack didn't follow. He didn't say a word.
Who knew – maybe Daniel was right.
-
Daniel didn't want to re-enter his lab. He didn't want to face anyone; especially not Satya. He paused in the hallway, trying and failing to collect himself before stepping inside.
"Hello," Satya said, rendering the word meaningless through repetition alone. "You're unhappy."
"Anubis has entered our solar system," Daniel said, aware that he was misrepresenting the truth and hating everything about it.
"Then he will come to damage this world."
"We assume so."
"I'm sorry."
Daniel looked up, trying to read between the lines. He looked down at his translation again. "So am I."
Silence for a minute and a half, during which time Daniel identified two words as untranslatable proper nouns.
"Colonel O'Neill doesn't like me," Satya observed.
Daniel looked up again, studying her. At length he swiped his glasses from his nose, cleaning them on his jacket. Jack thought he could just remind him to focus and he'd be able to. Things were never that easy. "Not at the moment," he admitted. "I mean, no. But that can change." (Everything can change.)
"Why not?"
Daniel kept his expression neutral. "Why do you think?"
Satya considered. "I've caused damage to the base, injured its personnel, and possessed him," she said eventually. "And I've been unable to come up with a plan to beat Anubis."
Daniel deflated. He didn't know what he'd expected, but the obvious analysis hadn't been it. (I guess that's what the evidence points toward.) "I guess."
"Are there other reasons I should be aware of?"
"Not good ones." He looked back to his translation.
"Politics?" Satya asked.
He looked up sharply. "What?"
"Politics?"
Daniel frowned. "Where did you pick that up?"
"Pick that up?"
"Learn. Where did you learn that word?"
Satya's head tilted sideways, much further than looked comfortable. "Emmet Bregman explained that–"
Daniel was up and out of his chair before he knew what he was going to do. "Bregman hunted you down?"
"He was interested in sharing information."
"He's–" Daniel bit off everything. Politics was right – he couldn't explain his objection to Bregman without explaining a thousand other things along with it, most of which could only harm the situation as it stood. He made himself sit down. "Politics pervades everything," he said – a vague enough answer to her question. "But it's not the only reason for anything." He hoped such a gross oversimplification would hold her.
"You don't approve."
"Of politics? Not as a rule." He put a hand on his books. "Satya, I need to work."
"I understand," she said. "I need to help."
"I don't know how you can, right now," Daniel said.
"All right," she said, and fell silent. Darkly, involuntarily, he wondered how long it would last.
-
If Jack was hopeful that his encounter with Teal'c would go better than his encounter with Daniel, it was only because he didn't see how it could go worse.
He found Teal'c in the locker room, donning his armor instead of his Jaffa robes. (I guess the time for ceremony is over,) Jack thought. "Hey."
Teal'c looked over in acknowledgment. "Colonel O'Neill."
"Geared up?"
"As you can see," Teal'c chastised, "I am in the process of 'gearing up.'"
"...as I can see," Jack said. "We need an advantage. Anything that might help. Keep your eyes open."
Teal'c didn't answer. If O'Neill wanted to immerse himself in platitudes, he could do that without a dialogue.
"Assume things are moving fast from here on," Jack said.
Teal'c buckled his maille. "How is Daniel Jackson?" he said, changing the topic with an utter lack of subtlety.
"Bad," Jack answered. "Fixated. Still arguing with me."
"You think he is wrong," Teal'c said.
"I think–" Jack grimaced. "I think Daniel's under a lot of stress, and I think that's manifesting as a panglossian conviction that Carter is back from the dead." He dug a knuckle into one temple. (I just used the word "panglossian" in casual conversation.) "And I think I've been spending too much time with him and Fraiser."
"Then you are certain he is mistaken."
"Gut feeling."
Teal'c pulled on the metal tabard, adjusting it over his shoulders. "And you have told him this."
"Yeah. Half a textbook later he still didn't buy it."
Teal'c was frowning.
Jack studied his expression. "What?"
Teal'c straightened, picking up his staff weapon. "You yourself have said this is a diversion of attention."
"Yes. Several times."
"And yet you have still spent a great deal of time to convince him he is wrong. Indeed, it seems as though you are as invested as he is."
"I'm not–" Jack's hackles raised. "Look, sometimes Daniel gets his head into something that–"
"We are not discussing Daniel Jackson," Teal'c interrupted. "You must realize that your part in this is as great as his."
Jack growled. "What's your point, Teal'c?"
Teal'c gave no reaction to Jack's snappishness. "Daniel Jackson believes he is protecting Major Carter," he said. "You believe you are protecting her memory. If this becomes a battle, neither one of you shall win due to the strength of your resolve. It will only serve to further injure those around you, and weaken the SGC in its coming trials."
"Teal'c, he's–" Jack trailed off when he saw the look in his friend's eyes. Teal'c was not about to bend from his position – and if it did come to a battle, he would not be taking Jack's side. The fact that he wouldn't take Daniel's either was scant consolation.
"Major Carter, whether she is the entity or not, would nonetheless not wish you to fight in such a manner," Teal'c said.
"Whether or not," Jack repeated. "What do you think?"
Teal'c clipped his armor, and Jack waited. If anything, Teal'c would give an honest answer – which was what Jack wanted, even if it wouldn't be something he wanted to hear.
"I believe Daniel Jackson was correct," Teal'c said, "in insisting that Ke'ra was not Linnea. Whether or not this entity was born of Major Carter, the fact remains that Major Carter is not here. Should she claim or reclaim that identity it will become apparent to each of us."
"Easiest out in the history of outs," Jack said before he'd thought it through. "...I guess you're right. Care to drop by Daniel's lab and tell him that before he leaves?"
"He would not listen."
Jack sighed. "No kidding." He looked Teal'c up and down, trying to place the pieces of the world into something neatly understandable. "So what's got you so secretive? We both know you're hiding something."
Teal'c paused. He didn't consider himself secretive. He simply had a keener sense than most of what did and did not need to be said – and the SGC was operating at such a saturation of ideas and hopes and fears that adding more could only hurt. Daniel Jackson was proof enough of that. "It is nothing."
"Looks like a damn preoccupying nothing."
"I have simply been thinking of how best to mount an defense."
"Hammond wanted to know everything everyone came up with," O'Neill reminded.
"It is not important." Teal'c took up his staff weapon, facing his friend. "Trust in me, O'Neill."
O'Neill regarded him, surprised. "I trust you," he said.
Teal'c nodded. "I will return as soon as possible," he said. "Fare well."
"We'll do our best," he said, trying not to point out how woefully inadequate their best had been thus far. "Good luck."
-
"If politics pervades everything, then politics has pervaded your interactions with me," Satya said.
Daniel felt sick to his stomach. Not drastically so, but the knot there was tuning his throat sour. "That's what we call a syllogism," he said.
"And thus must also have pervaded your interactions with Colonel O'Neill."
"More than usually so, yes."
"Because you believe that I am Major Sam Cater."
"Yeah."
"And you do not approve of politics."
"No–"
"Then this is why your mood has become worse following every instance of conversation," Satya concluded.
Daniel rifled through his dictionary, trying to pin down a particularly troublesome ablative absolute before answering.
"This is important to me," Satya said.
Daniel looked up. "Why?"
"To determine identity. To understand you. To help."
"Do you know of a way you could help? – do you assume there's a way you can help?"
"You want Sam Carter back," Satya said.
"She's my friend."
"You assume that she can help."
(Intuitive leaps,) Daniel thought. "Yes."
Satya was silent.
Daniel shook his head, pressing two fingers into the bridge of his nose. "Do you remember anything? If you try, if you focus on Sam, can you remember anything?"
(I remember you remembering,) she said hesitantly. (I remember memories gleaned from Colonel Jack O'Neill's mind. Memories of her death. Of another entity unlike myself, and unlike Anubis. Fear when he thought of them.) "These were prominent in his thoughts."
"He didn't know you," Daniel said.
(He knew Major Carter. You think I'm her.)
Daniel deflated. "But you don't think you are."
"I. Don't–" Her voice distorted, losing intelligibility. (This is a good identity,) she said. (A valued identity. I don't have it.) "I–" (I – want identity. I don't recognize this.) Even solid, she couldn't hold herself together. Colors coruscated across her, and within the bounds of her adopted form she couldn't keep from fidgeting. (If I adopted her identity, I could help.)
Daniel wanted to leave. He wanted to escape. The knot in his stomach had evolved into something spectacularly darker, and he was more trapped here with Satya than he had been facing off with Jack. "You don't have to adopt an identity. You don't need to be something you aren't."
"Because I am Sam Carter?"
"Because we don't force people–" To do what? Change? That was patently untrue. "Because we won't usurp an individual's right to control who they are," he said.
"But you believe that I'm Sam Carter," Satya pressed.
Daniel hadn't moved, but he felt backed against a wall. "I don't understand what you're getting at," he said. (Just tell me what you're thinking.)
"Daniel, what is the value of this assumption?"
He squinted at her. "What?"
(What is the value of this assumption?) she asked again.
"...I don't understand."
(Why do you believe?)
"Instinct. Intuition."
(Is that all?)
Daniel shook his head. (I'm not going further until I know what's going on.) "What are you asking?"
"If I'm not Sam Carter?" Satya asked. "My value will decrease. Your attention will divert."
"No," Daniel lied, at first unaware he was lying. "It's – I suspect you're Sam Carter. Jack's right – I don't know anything. But even if you aren't, that doesn't invalidate you as a person."
"You want her back," Satya said. Her voice fell flat – as flat as her first attempts at speech, without synthesizing emotion or tone. "I cannot fulfill this function. You can't help me. I can't help you."
Daniel went cold. "That's not true–"
"I don't know this person!" Satya exploded – literally. She lost cohesion, a small nova in the center of the room. (And even if I did, I wouldn't be her. Your Colonel has stated this.)
Daniel backed up, feeling the radiant heat on his skin. "He didn't mean–"
She blasted away, arc lightning through the SGC's halls. Daniel ran after her. "Satya!"
A siren screamed.
Daniel took the stairs toward the control room three at a time, slipping on the last and catching himself on the railing. It rammed up under his sternum, winding him. By the time he'd careened into the Control Room, Hammond was already in attendance, and the Stargate lay dormant.
"What was that?" Hammond demanded.
"The, uh–" Walter stared at his monitor. "The entity has returned to PV1-542," he said.
"Wh–" Hammond started, turning to Daniel.
Daniel stared at the 'gate, wearing the expression of someone who had bumped something on accident and brought reality crumbling down around his ears.
"Dr. Jackson?" Hammond asked.
"She couldn't help us," Daniel said, emptying the words of meaning.
"She told you that?"
Daniel shook his head, trying to find balance. "...I have to get back to my translation," he said, and dragged himself off.
-
Jack made it to the Control Room hall before running into Daniel, who looked as though he was putting off shock entirely because he couldn't fit it in his schedule yet. "What the hell–" he began.
"You don't have to worry about Satya any more," Daniel said. "She went home."
"Why–"
"Politics!" Daniel made it two steps past him before slamming his fist into a wall. "God, I'm such an idiot!"
"Daniel?" Jack asked.
Daniel turned, ramming himself backward into the concrete by the door. Aggravation tied up every muscle – he had a hard time keeping himself from shaking, and didn't have the presence of mind to try. "Well, as it turns out, you were totally right, and I really wasn't helping anything. She thinks I'm lying to her – that I have a vested interest in making her be Sam. So she left."
Daniel stared at him, challenging him to look satisfied or say "I told you so" or anything like it. Jack glanced away, looking for a better response. This was a time for working together and putting previous arguments aside, for moving on with Teal'c-esque pragmatism and shuffling the Carter dilemma neatly under a rug.
Jack was bad at these.
"Those knuckles are going to hurt for a bit," he said eventually.
Daniel glared at him, apparently giving serious consideration to punching him in the chest. Jack shrugged. Hell, if it made him feel better.
The upshot of not expecting things to turn out well was that, when they didn't, it didn't hurt so much. When they did, it proved a pleasant surprise. Rational pessimism – a comfortable, familiar fallback. But Daniel was an idealist. As much as life kicked him in the teeth, he still looked for good to come of it.
"She wanted to help," Daniel said.
"But she got caught up in the politics and jumped ship," Jack said. "Can't fault her instincts."
"She wanted to help," Daniel repeated. "She didn't think she could." He shook his head. "...she wanted to help and be studied. Her entire species has been waiting for that chance." His right hand tapped absently. "I don't think she'd leave just because of that."
Warning bells went off in Jack's mind. "So you're suggesting–"
"I don't know!" Daniel shook out his hand. "I'm going back to my translation." He started down the hall.
"Need any help?" Jack asked.
"No!" Daniel called back. And of course he was lying, but of course there was nothing Jack could do.
He walked into the control room. Hammond was there, valiantly controlling a situation which didn't, at the moment, merit much control. Jack cleared his throat.
Hammond turned. "The entity seems to have left," he said.
"So I heard." Jack looked at the Stargate. "Anything you need me to do?"
"Not at the moment," Hammond said.
"Figured as much." He looked at the 'gate. It stood deceptively calm. "If there's anything you need–"
"I'll keep you informed," Hammond said.
"Appreciated." For once, the automatic response was heartfelt. Even so, he left the control room feeling useless.
Of course, when he'd be useful again was probably when the fighting started, which wasn't a great option either. Sometimes there were no ways to win – and that disturbed him most of all.
-
Jack waited as long as he could before checking in on Daniel again, not so much because he wanted to avoid the confrontation as because Daniel probably wanted to be alone. He was used to that – no matter how long they worked on the same team, he and Daniel would probably always have days when they wished the other out of their lives. Daniel had probably seen enough of him to last him for weeks, but Jack told himself that his need to keep apprised trumped Daniel's need to brood in his office, so a scant hour later found him in the Level 18 halls wondering how to barge in.
Daniel's door was closed but not locked; Jack gave him two knocks' notice before poking his head in. "What's up?" he said. What's up was a suitably neutral greeting.
Daniel still looked about to explode, but his fuse seemed longer, at least. He didn't look up from his work. "I've got the first few lines pinned down. I think."
"That's good," Jack said. "That's progress."
"Not really."
Jack frowned. "You got–"
"I got the first few lines. As far as I know it says 'Woe unto my enemies who, having resolved to stand against me, have no recourse but death.' He probably starts everything with that, or with some variation, just to slow down anyone trying to translate it."
"So start later," Jack said.
Daniel shook his head. "Ancient is non-subject-prominent language, and in a lot of the older dialects, in long works, the subject is left out entirely after it's initially mentioned. Everything refers back to the beginning. You can't understand it unless you start there. So if I jump ahead past the topic statements I'll wind up wasting even more time, and I'll have to backtrack just to–"
"Okay," Jack said, cutting him off. "How long?"
"For the entire text? Weeks. Months. For the first section maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after. For something useful who knows. What are the al'kesh up to?"
"Well, there's still three of them, and they're still al'kesh," Jack said. "I think we'll know when Anubis shows up."
"Yeah, we'll probably notice when continents start disappearing," Daniel said.
Jack bit back a retort. He desperately disliked having to be the rational one, but diving into the sniping would do no good for either of them. "Yeah. Probably."
Daniel glared at his translation. He didn't have the time for this – they didn't have time for anything. But it was taking too long to just happen and be over.
Jack cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he said.
Daniel shook his head. "For what?"
"About Satya," Jack offered.
Daniel shook his head. "It's not your fault."
(Uh-oh.) This was familiar. "And it is yours?"
"What do you want from me?" Daniel asked. He sounded tired. Just tired.
Jack shrugged, looking to the wall. "I'm worried."
"About what? Me? Satya? The fact that this time, Earth probably will get destroyed?" Daniel jotted something down on his notepad. "This translation won't help us."
(Too long to translate, too long to analyze, too long to implement.) He wanted to argue, but they both knew the truth. "No. You think that entity can?"
"Maybe. I know it's a long shot. But–"
"It's better than no chance." Jack folded his arms. (What, so humor him now?) "So what's your plan? We can't go after it."
"I know that."
"Can't just wait for it to show up around here again."
"I know!"
(So it's on us.) "Can it hear radio signals? If we sent a message through the 'gate, would it answer?"
"I don't know," Daniel said. "I never asked. ...it took her a while to learn speech; she might not even associate radio signals with communication. Maybe we should send a MALP," he suggested.
"The last MALP we sent spazzed out two seconds after it got through," Jack said.
"But–"
"You realize those things aren't exactly cheap."
"So take it out of my paycheck! When's the last time I had a chance to spend it anyway?"
"Okay, that was a rhetorical..." Jack stopped, and exhaled. "This is a bad idea."
"All we have are bad ideas."
"No, we have good ideas," Jack said. "The problem with those is that they're all impossible. I'm just not sure we should be wasting a MALP – or our time – on this."
"It's not wasting a MALP," Daniel argued. "If we get wiped out, who will care that we lost another probe now? If we find something on PV1-542, sending a MALP will be worth it."
(Worth it. Assuming this isn't all just an exercise in futility.) Jack shook his head. "I'll make a recommendation."
Daniel waved a hand at the phone. Jack hesitated.
"...that works, too," he said, walking over. He'd have preferred to find Hammond and suggest if face-to-face, if only because he could be frank in his assessment of the options. Doing that in front of Daniel would be impolitic at best.
(Politics.) He tried not to roll his eyes, picked up the phone, and dialed.
"Hammond." Hammond answered quickly.
Jack cleared his throat. "General, this translation won't give us anything useful for our deadlines. Daniel's recommending we send a MALP to PV1-542, try to catch the entity's attention. It seems like it might be our best bet."
He could hear Hammond's uncertainty. "Do we have any reason to assume that the entity will respond?"
(No,) Jack thought but couldn't say. "Well, it came after us once."
Hammond still didn't sound convinced. "I'll have Siler prepare a MALP."
"Forget the shielding," Jack said. "Nothing fancy – it won't make a difference, anyway. Just send it."
"All right. We'll have it on the ramp in ten minutes."
At least that was quick enough. "We'll be there." He hung up. "Ten minutes."
Daniel grunted an acknowledgment.
"Daniel?"
"I'll be there," Daniel said. "I'm going to keep translating."
(For all the good that won't do.) Jack couldn't respond to that. He couldn't decide if throwing himself at a useless translation was Daniel's version of optimism or fatalism.
"Do what you need to," he said at length. It was more than most of them could do.
-
Siler had the MALP on the ramp before seven minutes were up. Daniel showed up right at the ten-minute mark, dragging his notebook in with him. Jack had suggested they wait for his arrival, though if Daniel appreciated the gesture, he didn't say. "We ready?"
Hammond turned to the techs by way of answering. "Sergeant, send the probe."
"Yes, sir."
The Stargate spun to life, dialing PV1-542. Daniel fought a cringe when the wormhole flashed open; radiation couldn't travel both ways through, but the fact didn't put him at ease. At the moment, all they had between themselves and the pulsar was a corridor through spacetime and the dubious protection of the base. It didn't seem enough.
The MALP started up with a whirr, moving up the ramp and into the event horizon. "Receiving MALP telemetry," Walter said. "Signal strength at ninety-four percent."
Two seconds passed. Three.
"Transmission is holding," Walter said.
Jack's eyebrows hopped. "Scan," he said.
Walter brought up the sensor displays, data streaming back from the planet. "Area is clear," he said. "We're reading the first MALP – and sustainable life support."
"Negligible radiation, plenty of oxygen, even seventy-two degrees fahrenheit..." Daniel stared at the monitor. "Jack, she got it working again. She fixed the place up."
Jack sucked at the inside of his lower lip.
"If she knows how to work the safeguards, maybe she knows how to work everything else," Daniel pressed. "And if she knows that, maybe there's something there we can use. Something to give us an advantage."
"Yeah," Jack agreed. Loathe as he was to go back to the planet, letting Anubis conquer Earth was not an appealing alternative. He looked to Hammond. "General, I'd like to take a team."
"All of our engineering teams have been assigned to search for Alpha sites," Hammond said. "I'm hesitant to recall them."
"Daniel and I will check out '542 and report back," Jack said. "If we need backup we'll say so."
Hammond nodded. "Take Dr. McKay," he ordered. "Report back every half-hour, and stay on radio."
Jack pushed away from the desk. "Yes, sir."
-
Even when Jack knew he'd be leading a team of three, he still had to do a double-take when they assembled on the ramp. One of the techs had taken the time to outfit McKay, though he still looked unprepared. (Another civilian,) Jack thought, though he didn't really think of Daniel as civilian any more. He would have objected, if military prowess meant anything on '542.
SG-1 had been dismantled and frankensteined together. That was what bothered him – they were missing Teal'c, missing Carter, and a new guy had been drafted in because no one else was available. McKay hadn't been supposed to go offworld. It wasn't in his contract, wasn't in his training. Exceptions had been made for the end of the world.
Siler wandered up the ramp with a handful of pens, selecting one from the bunch. "Dosimeters," he said, clipping the pen to Jack's MOLLE without ceremony. "Parts of the installation may still be irradiated. You'll need to periodically check your dose; hold the lens up to a light and read here." He tapped a small window on the end. "It's your discretion when to return, but keep in mind radiation workers aren't usually allowed in fields over 100 milliröentgens per hour, and anything over 100 REM will present serious health risk."
"Radiation bad. Got it." He glanced over his team, and fought the feeling that this was an act of desperation.
Above, Hammond stepped up to the intercom. "Colonel, be advised that Anubis' hok'ha'tak has arrived in the solar system. It and the Al'kesh are approaching Earth at sublight, and the Prometheus has been launched to intercept."
Jack inhaled. "All right, kids, it's now or never. General, we're ready to go."
"Godspeed, SG-1," Hammond said as the 'gate began to turn. "And good luck."
Jack looked over his team again, trying not to notice how compulsive the action had become. Daniel wore an unusual grim focus, and McKay was mumbling to himself – the few snatches Jack caught were the kind of technobabble that had come out of Carter's mouth, but these were nervous and rushed.
"McKay?"
McKay was staring at the Stargate as if it would reach out and irradiate him. He jumped visibly when Jack hailed him. "Hm?"
Jack gestured to the 'gate just as it opened. McKay didn't jump again, but he didn't look comfortable either. "Problem?"
"Huh? Oh, no – no. I've just never actually been through–" he flapped a finger at the ring.
"It's nothing," Jack said, starting up the ramp. McKay trailed along after him, still eyeing the event horizon. (In any case, it's no more dangerous than staying here.)
"I mean, I know all the physics," McKay went on, "in exacting, tedious detail, but–"
"It's not bad," Daniel put in, falling into step. "A bit disorienting. That's all."
Jack raised an eyebrow at the lie. "Disorienting," McKay repeated.
"Yeah," Daniel improvised. "Takes a moment to get your bearings."
"Well, that doesn't sound too bad–"
"It's not." Daniel reached over, clapping his shoulder in a supposedly encouraging fashion. "Just step through."
"Right," McKay said, but paused at the event horizon regardless. "Right. ...after you."
Jack growled. "Come on, Doctor," he said, summarily seizing McKay's vest. "One small step." He heaved him through.
Daniel cast him a disparaging look, which Jack ignored as he stepped into the event horizon after McKay. Time was against them, moreso than usual.
The world fuzzed and washed out, a split second of conscious thought trying to interpret its own dissolution/reconstitution–
–and Jack arrived in the recycled air of an alien world.
His hackles raised immediately. But this time no sirens were blaring, and no one was running to evacuate – he checked his dosimeter, just in case.
Daniel came through behind him as McKay stood from his left. "I think one of us is confused as to what 'disorienting' entails," McKay said.
"Move out," Jack ordered. He wanted to spend as little time here as possible. In the interests of civility Daniel offered McKay a hand up, but it was quickly waved off.
"Right," McKay said. "Now. Assuming we wanted the status of the entire base, we should probably head to the system control facility, which would be–"
"This way," Jack called.
"That way," McKay finished, stepping after him.
The base was different. It had always been quiet, but now it was dead; dust hadn't had time to settle or had been filtered from the air, but a palpable sense of disuse hung between the walls.
Jack found himself counting his steps, guessing how long a mad dash to the Stargate would take. He'd spent enough time memorizing floorplans that he knew his way around now, and he knew better than to trust this place.
"A bit creepy here, isn't it?" McKay asked with poorly-disguised unease. He glanced out the window into the pocked, grey landscape. "This place is worse than Russia."
"Yeah. Russia doesn't have a killer star hitting it every four seconds," Jack said. For the next three hallways they walked in silence.
The base was filled with artifacts, recent and ancient. It was frightening how easily the abandoned SGC tools faded into the base, how well they fit beside inscrutable alien devices. They sunk into history without meaning to. The de facto SG-1 moved through them like ghosts – a simile Jack's mind was too happy to provide.
The control room was abandoned. Even knowing that it would be, it still felt odd – it had never been abandoned, from the time SG-1 had arrived until they had called the evac. Only the consoles displayed any semblance of life, tracking a myriad of systems.
"These consoles wouldn't run continuously," McKay said, approaching the central terminal. "Which means someone's gone through and activated them. Probably the entity. Our priority should be–"
"Where is she?" Daniel asked.
"Wh – the entity? I have no idea," McKay said. "But these systems are already up and running; I can probably get most of what I need without–"
"Can you find out where she is?" Daniel interrupted.
McKay exhaled. "Well, I can if you–"
"Please do," Daniel said, just as sharply. McKay muttered something, typing rapidly into the console.
The air directly before and above them flickered, illusory tints washing in. After a second they formed a translucent schematic of the base in blue and green, complete with white damage to the corridors where Anubis' tel'taks had struck.
"If I'm reading this correctly most of the system controls have been rerouted through a computer array somewhere in this section over here," McKay said, jabbing at the hologram. "It makes sense. If the entity interacts physically instead of virtually with the computer cores, it would make things easier to have everything in one place. Hopefully one place that wouldn't blow out like our computer banks did."
"Is it still there?" Jack asked.
McKay jabbed at the consoles. "I don't know. Possibly. I'm sure this place has internal energy sensors, but as for using them–"
"Right. Let's head in that direction, then," Jack said, checking his watch and dosimeter. The dosimeter hadn't recorded any radiation at all – a good sign. Or it was broken. "McKay, you good to stay on your own a bit?"
McKay's face went from fervent interest to concerned unease in half a second. "The place is totally abandoned, right?"
"As far as we know."
"And you'll have your radios–"
"You'll be fine," Jack said, sorry he'd brought it up. "We'll check in on you."
"Right," McKay said, turning his attention to the console after a nervous glance toward the door. "Don't be long."
"We won't," Jack said, double-checking the position on the hologram and following Daniel out the door.
He'd made it most of the way down the observation hall when something glinting on the ground drew his attention. Buttons, eyelets, a zipper, a scattering of green lint. He studied them a moment before realizing with a lurch what they were. (Remains.)
Swallowing bile, he glanced around for Daniel. Daniel hadn't noticed them yet – while his back was turned, Jack dipped down and scooped them up, concealing them in one pocket. It was the only thing he knew to do, morbid as it felt.
Everything showed that Satya – or something – had scrubbed the base. What should have been totally irradiated was now inert as ever. At the same time, touching the bits and pieces made him feel ill – as if some part of him perversely refused to let go of the idea that Carter was still here, that they could come back and round a corner and see her sitting against a wall waiting or moving through a lab exploring. Instead he carried all that was left of her in his left pocket so that Daniel wouldn't have to face the truth that way.
He ran his fingers over the lumps in his pocket. He was surprised they hadn't found anything else – a radio, a knife, a sidearm, any other inorganic anything. But in a way it also made sense. She'd been running, last he saw her. She had to move fast. She'd probably shed anything that could slow her down, as little good as it had done her.
"You all right?"
"Huh?" He looked over. "Fine. Why?"
"You're rubbing your side," Daniel said.
Jack yanked his hand away. (Of course, he chooses that to be astute about.) "Don't worry about it."
Daniel looked away, compulsively checking his dosimeter. Jack did the same, wincing. (I should probably not mention this little fixation to Hammond. We'd never get out of MacKenzie's sessions.)
The hallway turned, terminating in a window-ceilinged cluster of open terminals and labs. The terminals were active, with occasional lines of misty white light drifting across the displays. The lines coalesced when Jack and Daniel approached, emerging from the banks to hover just above them.
Daniel drew to a halt. "Maybe I should handle this alone," he said.
(Geez, nobody wants me around today.) "Daniel–"
"I'll be on radio."
Jack was about to protest again, but Daniel would probably be as safe with Satya as he would anywhere. And worrying that it wasn't actually Satya glowing away in the middle of the room was paranoid even for him. "Right," he said. "Make friends. But keep it short."
"I'll try."
"I'll go report to Hammond," Jack said.
Daniel nodded as Jack left. "See you."
Satya waited until he walked up to her – about the same distance they'd kept in his lab – before saying anything. (Hello.)
There was something oddly reassuring in the standard greeting. "Hello."
(I expected you to return.)
Daniel studied his feet. "I don't suppose you want to talk."
(About what?)
"Well, we could start with my incredible lack of tact and consideration. I wanted to say I'm sorry."
Satya pulsed. (When I came to your world I assumed you were the original inhabitants of this one. Your indiscretion was no greater than mine.)
"I'd disagree," Daniel said. "You were willing to accept your mistake and move on from there. I just kept seeing what I wanted to see."
Satya steadied. (Why do you do this?)
"Why?" Daniel shrugged. "I guess sometimes it's easier. Or it makes me feel better. Gives me hope. Maybe–"
She flashed again. (That wasn't my question.)
Daniel looked up, taking in the spread and subtle motion of her light. He couldn't read her. He doubted he'd ever be able to. "What do you mean?"
(You admit fault, and when that's disputed you defend your assertion than revise it. It serves no purpose. You have no conclusive evidence. You don't enjoy it. Why do you do it?)
He gaped. He had no idea how to answer. Satya, with her alien curiosity, had stricken to the heart of something he'd never worked through or escaped. (You're definitely Ascended,) he thought. (Or very observant. Oma told me something similar.) "I don't know," he admitted.
(We're friends?) Satya asked. Awkwardly, she appended a gentle (Daniel.)
"I want us to be," Daniel said.
(Good.) The emphatic clarity of the word touched him. (I want our friendship, Daniel. This is valuable to me.)
"And to me." He stuck his hands in his pockets, glancing past the rim on his glasses. "I wish you knew Sam. I really do. I wish you had the opportunity to be friends with her." (Instead you were just perfectly too late.)
(You miss her,) she said. (Very much.)
"Yes." He pushed his glasses back up on his nose. "But I'm coming to terms with it. With knowing she's not out there any more."
(Then I'm more fortunate than you,) Satya said. (I, we, may be able to reclaim identity.)
"But maybe not for a very long time," Daniel said.
She flickered. (I don't know about that.)
He found himself laughing, wondering if she'd meant the double meaning – whether she'd admitted ignorance of duration or hope for it happening soon. Maybe it was his linguistic focus showing through, but he found it fantastic that she could turn such a phrase. In something so little, it didn't matter if he'd misinterpreted it. He didn't ask her to clarify.
"Satya, do you still want to help us?"
(Of course,) Satya answered.
"We have a lot of work to do," Daniel said. "Come on."
-
Jack fought a powerful sense of deja vu as he walked down the hall toward the Stargate, despite the fact that everything changeable had changed since he had been here last. But PSR-PV1 still flashed outside the windows, and Anubis was still their enemy, and that was enough.
He hadn't made it back to the 'gate when his radio clicked. "Colonel O'Neill, come in."
Jack checked his watch. He still had a good four minutes. "General," he said, hand on his radio. "I was just heading back to check in. Daniel's talking to the entity, and McKay is with the computers. Nothing yet."
"Understood," Hammond said. "Colonel, be advised that Anubis has withdrawn his hok'ha'tak from the system. According to CAIRN II it entered hyperspace heading in your direction."
Jack looked up on instinct. The stars outside looked no more or less friendly than they ever had. "Roger that. We'll stand ready to evac. Do you have an ETA?"
"Our rough estimate is between two and three hours."
"We'll plan to head back at one-forty-five," Jack said.
A beat passed. "Colonel."
"Yes, sir?"
"Four more al'kesh have entered the solar system. We estimate they'll be in orbit of Jupiter in about an hour, which they may use as the final staging ground for their assault on Earth."
Jack stopped in his tracks. "General, if we should withdraw–"
"There's nothing you can do here." Hammond's voice was flat and absolute. "When we've confirmed their final approach, the president has decided to inform the world."
He stood for a while with his hand on the radio. "Are we really there, sir?"
"We may be." Hammond let that hang. "Continue to check in periodically."
"Will do."
"SGC out," Hammond said, and cut the line.
Jack stood in the hall for a moment, frowning at the window. He hit his radio again. "Daniel? McKay? You monitoring that?"
Daniel responded first. "Yeah."
"Should we really be staying here?" McKay asked. "These systems could take weeks if not months to learn."
(Weeks if not months. Where have I heard that before?) "It sounds like Earth won't be much safer for long," he said. "Daniel, can Satya help with the systems?"
Silence from the other end. Daniel was probably trying to phrase the question in a way it'd understand. "She thinks so," came the answer at length. "She's been in and out of them. Literally, I think."
"Right. McKay, you hold tight. We'll meet up with you."
"Right."
The insidious voice from his prior visit returned. Run, it said. Get your people out of here. There's nothing useful they can do.
There was nowhere to run. Anubis was at Earth, had destroyed the Beta site. Their options were few and dwindling.
The sky felt dark and heavy, ready to fall down.
-
Meanwhile, on a distant world, orbiting beneath different stars, Teal'c marched through the post-midnight gloom with six Jaffa moving swiftly behind him.
The Beta Site still smelled of smoke and ash, but the cold wind had washed most of it away. The fires had long since guttered out, and the trills of night insects were once again in full force. Save for his team, the world was as devoid of intelligent life as it had been before the Tau'ri had come.
But not, Teal'c suspected, devoid of purpose.
Moye'd was a short, dark Jaffa with a knot of black hair tight at his nape. He had never been a formidable warrior, and never tried to be. But he lived up to his name, which in Jaffa meant Thought. He had served in Olokun's ranks as an engineer, one of the few trusted with knowledge of Goa'uld "magic." As such, he was one of the Jaffa Rebellion's greatest assets.
His eyes picked their target out against the speckled stars before the others, tracing its contours against the sky. "An al'kesh," he said with reverence. "Anubis'. What a find."
"We can hope," Teal'c said. "Please examine it."
Moye'd broke into a trot, scanning over the downed craft in increasing detail. He reached its side, running hands over its hull as if it were a living thing. "On the surface it appears so similar to the ones that I know," he said, pulling himself up to one of the engine maintenance hatches and straddling an exhaust duct. "But what does it breathe, and what does it eat? Jol'ec, help me open this."
The young Jaffa bowed and clambered up beside him, bending over the hatch as Moye'd pulled apart the panel. "We do not have the codes, and these symbols are strange to me."
"Anubis no longer speaks the language of Ra," Moye'd said. "We will pry his bird apart. I will unlatch it; you pull."
Teal'c watched, reigning in his anticipation. Some things could not be hurried, and most things which could suffered for it. Moye'd worked with admirable precision at the cost of speed.
At last the hatch groaned open. Moye'd accepted a zat'nik'tel from Jol'ec, and disappeared inside.
Teal'c looked back to his team. Without instruction, they had taken up positions of guard and were watching the trees and plains. He himself was at rest and at ready, waiting for something to change.
Moye'd reappeared as quickly as he could. "The crash has shaken it badly, and the Jaffa inside are dead. A few lights flicker and the rest have gone out. Its engines are silent and cold; its heart no longer beats."
Teal'c nodded. "Can it be salvaged?"
Moye'd wiped at the dirt on the hull, uncovering shallow missile scars. "It does not appear to be badly damaged," he said. "The ship itself is intact, though unlovely. It is only the engines which have failed. If Jol'ec will fetch crystals from our tel'taks, I see no reason we may not coax it to fly."
"What kind?" Jol'ec asked.
"All you can lay hands on. Many will have burnt out and those which have not will be heat-fractured regardless. We will replace what we can."
Teal'c turned to Jol'ec. "Go immediately."
Jol'ec bowed and loped for the Stargate.
"How much time do you require?" Teal'c said.
Moye'd looked to the stars. "Until the sun is there," he said, pointing to a spot in the sky and estimating the length of night and day. "And where do you intend to take this craft, when it flies?"
"Where it will do most good," Teal'c said.
Moye'd stepped around the the nose, hands searching for the emergency hatch. "You cannot hope to challenge Anubis with but one ship, no matter how many of his secrets it holds."
"Perhaps not," Teal'c agreed. "But we may do more now than we could have before."
"The mountain is conquered in a thousand small steps," Moye'd said. "Yes. We shall take this where it will do most good, like the knife thrown to the heart. And we shall hope your friends of the Tau'ri climb with us."