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[Fic] Beneath a Beating Sun - ch.07: Attack
Chapter Summary: Something comes through the 'gate.
Index post: [Fic] Beneath a Beating Sun - Index
Teal'c jolted from sleep and indistinct dreams at a siren's blare.
He was on his feet at once – he still slept seated instead of lying down – and into the hallway on instinct, moving through the early-morning shift workers and the SFs. Offworld activation. When he got to the stairwell he realized the siren hadn't cut out. This time, perhaps something would come through.
Halfway down the stairs a tech came onto the PA, paging him to the control room along with Colonel Reynolds. He launched into a jog, clearing the stairwell, disallowing any speculation but for what he needed to ready himself. The SGC had not been put on alert, and so they were not under immediate attack. Nor had the siren ended. A wormhole was still established, so either an ally had come through, or an enemy had established a persistent connection.
He made it to the control room before Reynolds did, and a tech greeted him. "Jaffa IDC, sir," he said, indicating the room below as the wormhole disengaged and the siren fell silent. A single warrior strode down the ramp. M'Zel.
"Thank you," Teal'c said, and took himself down the stairs without waiting for elaboration. The Free Jaffa had not parted company with the Tau'ri as poorly as the Tok'ra, but he had not expected to see M'Zel so soon. And M'Zel was not one for casual visits – he had committed himself to moving on without the assistance of the Tau'ri, and would not abandon that easily.
"Teal'c!" M'Zel exclaimed as he entered the room. "Tek'ma'tek. How fares the Tau'ri?"
"Well enough, for war," Teal'c answered. "Tek'ma'tek, M'Zel. For what urgent purpose have you come?"
"I bring dire news of Anubis and of his war with Ba'al," M'Zel said. "Many among the Jaffa feel it may be possible to deal a killing blow if we act quickly. It is an opportunity not to be ignored. Where is General Hammond?"
"It is night here, friend," Teal'c said. He glanced back – Reynolds jogged into the room behind him. "Many have returned home."
"We can call Hammond and SG-1 in, if you'd like," Reynolds offered. "They haven't been dragged out of bed at oh-dark-thirty for a while now."
"Then summon them," M'Zel said.
-
For some time, Teal'c had not understood the human need for sleep. Goa'uld did not sleep except to regenerate in the sarcophagus, and a trained Jaffa warrior was able to stop and restart kel'no'reem in moments should the situation require it. Waking for him had not been this long, drawn-out affair with its minutes or hours of returning to alertness.
Most of the military personnel he worked with could move quickly from sleep to waking – he'd often seen Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter react from sleep with almost as much acuity as if they'd been lying sentry. But even they were not – had not been – immune to the effects of sleep depravation, and Daniel Jackson had never shared their ability; when he and O'Neill dragged themselves into the briefing room a scarce twelve and nineteen minutes later, each one's fatigue showed despite valiant effort to hide it.
Hammond, perhaps a result of long experience, seemed only moderately tired when he stepped in, apologizing for the delay. Likely the most-recalled person in the base staff, he was well used to arriving long before the sun and had even stopped into the commissary with orders for a Lieutenant to bring a pot of coffee down. It arrived just after him, and the Lieutenant quickly placed the tray and mugs in the center of the table before excusing himself. Daniel took the initiative in pouring for everyone as the SGC representatives sat down, the entire process taking place with the shuffling efficiency of a faithful, but old, machine.
Hammond gestured to a chair, accepting his mug. "I understand you have intelligence to share," he said without preamble. Teal'c mentally commended him – M'Zel had no wish to exchange pleasantries. "Please."
M'Zel declined to sit. "Anubis has grown strong," he said. "Ba'al, commanding the combined might of the System Lords, is still not strong enough to challenge him. But an operative brought us word that, some days ago, Ba'al won a major strategic victory assaulting Anubis' flank. Anubis has been pushed from three systems."
Hammond gestured for him to continue. "This is the first we've heard of it."
"The defeat should not have occurred," M'Zel said. "But Anubis suddenly dispatched his First Prime, Herak, in a hok'ha'tak to a distant world."
"Hawk ha'tak?" Jack asked.
"Advanced ha'tak," Daniel clarified. "I'm guessing those are his new class of ships – the big ones."
M'Zel nodded. "Our operative was unable to garner specific detail, but Herak and his crew perished. At that point Anubis himself withdrew from the front lines of his war with Ba'al to face this new adversary. The battle took him several days. Without his presence, his forces quickly succumbed to Ba'al's strategies. Only when Anubis returned could he staunch the loss."
Across the table, Daniel looked as if he'd swallowing a symbiote. Hammond frowned. "We appreciate this intel," he said, "but I have to wonder why you felt it important to bring it to our attention."
"From my time at the Beta Site," M'Zel said, "I remembered that the area of space Anubis withdrew to–"
"'542," Jack and Daniel said together.
M'Zel looked at them sharply. Hammond kept his poker face only through long experience. (Uncanny, isn't it? You get used to that.)
"PV1-542," Daniel said again, looking as if the symbiote had wiggled its way around his stomach. "Herak's hok'ha'tak was that first ship, the one the pulsar destroyed. Anubis came after that. He was in one of those ha'taks watching us."
Jack made a face. "Okay. I could've gone without knowing that."
"So you did operate in that region," M'Zel said.
"For a bit."
"Then perhaps you know of Anubis' new adversary," M'Zel said. "If we could persuade them to bear their weight upon his forces–"
"Unfortunately, I don't think that's a possibility," Daniel said. M'zel looked to him.
"I do not understand."
"Anubis did not engage in battle," Teal'c explained. "Herak's ship was destroyed by radiation from a powerful star."
"...M'Zel," Jack began, leaning forward over the table and folding his hands together. "How did Anubis know anything was there?"
"We do not know," M'Zel admitted. "I do not believe any of our operatives has been coerced, even by Anubis' trickery. Nor," he said darkly, "have we heard of a Tok'ra falling to him, though as always their ambitions are hidden from us."
"Is it possible he could have run across the system on his own?" Hammond asked.
M'Zel looked as though he tired of the line of questioning. "I doubt it," he said. "His tactics led him to regions far from this system. General Hammond, whatever drew him there initially, surely this is of little consequence."
"Not necessarily," Hammond said. "If we could replicate whatever drew him off, we might be able to do it again."
"Anubis was so concerned about the pulsar that he sacrificed a strategic position," Daniel said. "If he does again–"
"Ba'al will sweep in to destroy his forces," Teal'c picked up. "All sides will be greatly weakened in the ensuing conflict."
Jack looked around the table. "...that would be cool," he offered.
M'Zel considered. "Many of our warriors can still access his ranks. I will take this information back to the council, and we will attempt to determine how to lure the beast. If a strategem can be swiftly found, I shall return." He bowed slightly, and left quickly.
"...don't forget to write!" Jack called after as he vanished down the stairs. Hammond made a move to follow, but not fast enough.
(Jaffa,) he thought. (Well, he knows his way out.)
Jack checked his wrist, realized he wasn't wearing a watch, and looked around for a clock. "I'm going to get food. Wonderful, commissary-issue, doctor-approved 'food,'" he sighed, and glanced at Hammond as if to say that life was really no longer worth living. Then he paused. "...actually, you guys want to go on ahead?" he said, directing the question to Daniel and Teal'c. "I'll be up in a minute. Daniel, grab a waffle for me."
Daniel looked at Teal'c. "Oookay," he said, drawing it out into a question. Jack didn't answer, and Daniel followed Teal'c out of the room.
Hammond waited until they were out of earshot before setting his mug back on the tray. "Is there something on your mind, Colonel?"
"Yes, there is, sir. I'd like SG-1 to be returned to active duty," Jack said.
Hammond pushed in his chair, quietly considering. "Jack, we don't know that the Jaffa will be able to put forth anything of real value."
"I know. That's not the point." (The point is, there's only one direction we can go from here. I'd rather go there than stay here.) "You can't sideline us forever."
"I can until Dr. Fraiser clears you for active duty," Hammond said.
"Yeah, I was gonna see her as soon as she checked in." (I wasn't expecting to be up this early.) "General–"
"Fraiser will decide," Hammond said, weighing finality into his tone. "Until then take it easy, Colonel. Take some time with your team."
He nodded. (Yeah. Team time.) "Yes, sir."
-
"Waffle," Daniel said, depositing a plate in front of Jack as soon as he sat down. "They're out of coffee. I'm going to go steal some from the other room."
Jack quirked his head. "Didn't you already–"
"It's very early, Jack," Daniel said as he headed toward the door.
"...right." Jack sat carefully, taking the time to look his other friend up and down. "Teal'c. Buddy. You've been so quiet recently. ...and you're usually such a talker."
Teal'c expression might have been deadpan, murderous or unamused. In any case, it didn't change.
"How are you holding up?" Jack asked.
Teal'c barely acknowledged the query. "Well enough."
"Care to elaborate?"
"I do not."
"Right." Jack stabbed at his waffle. Teal'c rarely exhibited the classical hallmarks of grief – all SG-1 had witnessed (that they knew of) were Shaun'auc and Drey'auc, neither of whom occupied the same role in Teal'c life that Carter had. Teal'c had told him that he could seek revenge. Jack didn't even know if he was sharing or deferring that responsibility. "How about Anubis?" he said – a stab in the dark, trying to elicit something.
"What of him?"
"A couple days ago you were talking about plotting revenge," Jack hazarded. "Any ideas?"
Teal'c meticulously peeled his orange. He'd withdrawn from the company of his friends to give them time to stabilize – to let them go through their peculiar patterns. In the Jaffa ranks, death was a codified occurrence. The expectations – both of the deceased and the survivors – had been frozen in Jaffa religious law. Solemn mourning and reserved conduct characterized grief. Systems stood in place to moderate conflict and direct actions and attentions.
Here among the Tau'ri, death threw chaos into the days and weeks following. A death changed everything – rituals were performed, but they were imposed onto the standing order instead of fitting within or forming it. Everyone about him concerned themselves with finding their own footing; he already knew where he stood. O'Neill's concern, while it could be rationally appreciated, was nonetheless unwelcome – it neither acknowledged nor fit into his view of the world.
Under other circumstances, O'Neill's query would have honored him. In a way, it still did – a friend and a comrade in arms had asked for his alliance in a search for vengeance. But that had not been his purpose in asking.
"Were we able to strike at Anubis, we would have done so," he said.
Daniel took his chair again, mug already half-empty. "And now we may actually have a chance to," he said, picking up the tail of the conversation. Teal'c and O'Neill tacitly agreed not to fill him in on the body. This was a matter of private concern. "Do you think it's possible? Do you think we might actually be able to draw him off?"
"If we can, we can," Jack said, watching Daniel sit down to complete their little triangle. He frowned. How long since they had all been in the same room? Well – aside from the briefing. Aside from those other times that didn't count. He glanced across the table again. Why did this feel so new, so... strange?
(It's because for a second there, I thought we were all together,) he realized with a start. (All three of us? Since when did three start being 'all'?)
He sliced the fork through the waffle, causing a squeal against the plate that set his teeth on edge. (What, so that's it, then? I get to get used to the fact that we're all there is? Moving on over milk and waffles. And here I thought it might be profound.)
(Dammit – I can't take this. Either this is normal or it's not. I don't need this type of extended decompression – I need to be in it or past it, none of this... waffling.) He caught himself laughing. Daniel and Teal'c looked up.
"Jack?" Daniel asked.
(Poor choice of words. I'm not going crazy.) He put down his fork. "O'Malley's," he said.
Daniel blinked, sliding a sidelong look at Teal'c.
"O'Malley's," Jack said again. "Tonight. Drinks. On me."
"What–" Daniel began.
"It is where we went after your death, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c informed him.
(I wouldn't have put it that bluntly.) "O'Malley's," he insisted. "All three of us."
Daniel didn't say anything. His stomach had given an unexpected queaze, and his hand tightened on his mug. Experience told him that looking from person to person with a bewildered expression would get him as much explanation as trying to figure out what to ask – and he didn't trust himself to say anything, anyway. (I don't think I want to know what you did after I died. I don't want to think of it.)
But Jack had said all he intended to. After a few moments, Daniel set his mug down. "Do you think that's appropriate? I mean, now."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Jack asked, but his voice fell flat. "What's wrong with it? I bet you could tell me off the top of your head three hundred cultures you go and raise a glass in." He glared over his plate as if daring him to deny it.
Daniel drank his coffee.
"Teal'c," Jack said. "Come on."
"Perhaps another day, O'Neill," Teal'c said.
"What? Why?"
"I agree with Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said. "I do not think today is a fitting day for rituals of remembrance."
"It's not a ritual, it's just–" Jack looked across the table. "When's the last time we did something together?"
(...never,) Daniel realized, a spike of panic racing through him. (That's what he's trying to do. He's trying to mash us into a team and write Sam off. Is this how he copes with things? Cut losses and run headlong into whatever comes next?) He stared into his mug, watching the light flicker on the surface of his coffee. He didn't want to move on. He didn't want to give up hope – hope in something, hope in a miracle. But everything Jack had done, everything Jack was doing, was to drag him into that kicking and screaming. On the Beta Site he'd been able to say the words, believe them, even, without buying into them. At least, without buying into them to the exclusion of other possibilities.
Jack cut his waffle with more force than he needed. His mood had worsened. The situation had spiraled out of his control, if he'd ever had control of it. That shouldn't happen. It was his team – he could manage them. That was what he did. He oversaw missions and campaigns, and yet breakfast in the mess was falling apart. "Teal'c, it's not that formal. We do things like this all the time."
(No, O'Neill, we do not,) Teal'c thought. (Whatever you may claim, this is a ritual. One which is unlikely to provide you with what you seek from it. Nor will you find such answers from us.) Had O'Neill asked directly for assistance, he would have provided it. But he hadn't – and, knowing O'Neill, he would never. And he would reject it, were it offered so plainly.
Across from him, Daniel finished his coffee. "'scuse me," he said, taking his plate. Jack surveyed it – Daniel hadn't taken much food, and had barely touched what he had. "I have some... stuff. In my lab."
"Hrm," Jack said, stabbing his waffle. Daniel escaped, leaving his plate on the conveyor. Teal'c continued eating, unhurried and entirely nonplussed.
(Well, that went brilliantly,) Jack thought.
-
As soon as he'd finished his breakfast, Jack stopped in at Daniel's lab. Daniel hadn't started work on anything – instead he organized his desk, transferring materials from shelves and back again. A warning sign. Jack coughed. "Did I say something, or–"
"You're really not letting this out of your teeth, are you?" Daniel shoved his papers into a stack. "You really can't get away from this fast enough. If it wasn't for Fraiser you'd be off on missions again already. Drive on, leave everything in the dust. Is that what you expect me to do?"
Jack stilled. He no longer fidgeted or shifted, didn't gesture or look around. Instead he just watched, and only his breathing showed he was still alive. It took Daniel a moment to recognize the look in his eyes – it wasn't a common one, and hid behind a defensive blankness. That was pain, with a faint edge of betrayal.
For what seemed like a minute they stared at each other, neither one able to reconcile the emotion in the other's eyes. Daniel looked down first. "So I guess we have some problems," Daniel said. "If the three of us can't be in the same room together without... whatever just happened."
"Yeah," Jack agreed.
(I just need to know this isn't the end of everything.) "And you have no idea how to keep everything from falling apart."
"Not really," Jack admitted.
"I'll come," Daniel said.
"What?"
"O'Malley's. Tonight. I'll come. I mean, hey, it's worked before, right?"
He risked a glance up, and saw his question had only made things worse. Jack's face had twisted. He cringed.
"Sorry."
"...I'm gonna go track down Fraiser," Jack said. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah," Daniel said. "Later."
-
The day progressed at a labored pace, limping through from hour to hour. SG-1 did not reconvene. M'Zel did not return.
Jack checked in periodically with his team – one-on-one, brief skirmishes performed more out of a sense of obligation than any desire to encounter them.
Toward the end of the day – another stiflingly unimpressive one – Jack poked his head into Hammond's office. "Fraiser's checked me out for the night," he said. "No word from the Jaffa...?"
"None at all," Hammond said.
"Those kids," Jack said. "They move out, their calls get shorter and shorter..." He stuck his hands into his pockets. "I'm heading home. Get some stuff in order. Daniel and I are going to O'Malley's later, and I think I've got Teal'c to meet us there. But you know, there's always an open seat if you want to join...?"
Hammond smiled. He appreciated the invitations – regarded them as an honor, in point of fact – but would never accept. As long as he was present he would be The General, their CO, and they would be on duty whether they were or not. "Thank you," he said. "But you go on. I was looking forward to an early night, in any case."
-
The O'Malley's waitress had already seated Jack and brought out his drink when Daniel arrived, coat folded over one arm. Jack waved from his table, and Daniel excused himself as a waiter intercepted him. He picked his way through the seating area, pulling out a chair. "Hey."
"There's one," Jack said. "Did T follow you out?"
"He said he'd be by in a bit," Daniel said. "Didn't say how long. I think he was going to try to get in some meditation."
"Of course."
The waitress came back, and Daniel waved off the menu. "Iced tea," he said.
"You got it," she said, and headed back off toward the bar.
"Iced tea?" Jack asked, with about four times as much incredulity as the situation deserved. "You don't want something a bit stronger? Whiskey, maybe? Or scotch?"
"Tea is fine," Daniel said.
"You don't want to consider a cocktail of some sort? Maybe a martini? Some shots?"
"No, I–"
"Nice mug of beer?"
"Jack, I really don't want to get drunk right now," Daniel said.
"There's something very wrong about reminiscing over tea," Jack said. "Tea makes a weak toast. You need something with some heft to it."
Daniel shook his head. "I'm parked outside," he said. "I'm guessing you took a cab?"
"Walked," Jack said.
Daniel looked disapprovingly over the rim of his glasses. "Jack–"
"Of course I took a cab," Jack said. "And of course I'm not going to have more than one drink and of course I'm just generally acting like Fraiser's aimed a spy satellite at me. I'm on my best behavior."
"Uh-huh." Daniel wasn't convinced.
The waitress returned with Daniel's tea, and they trailed off until she'd left again. They'd developed a feel for how softly and vaguely they needed to speak in public, but it was easier when no one stood in earshot anyway. Jack usually made sure to ask for a seat set off from other patrons, and for whatever reason, the wait staff usually found one for him. Who knew – maybe they'd just become inured to weird folk coming out of Cheyenne Mountain.
Daniel took his glass, staring at the condensation as if it would tell him how to proceed from there. Eventually, he raised it. "To Sam."
"To Sam," Jack agreed, raising his own. "...I have this image of back when you two met, stuck in my head. In the cartouche room." He tilted his glass, studying the alcohol. "At one point Kawalski looked over and I think he was thinking of shooting you both."
Daniel nearly snorted his drink. "Yeah, well, that wasn't really rare for you guys, was it?"
"Are you kidding?" Jack jibed. "I still want to shoot you sometimes."
"I was a bit confused, really." Daniel thought back. "You guys gave me such a hard time, I had no idea why you'd want to hang around with another scientist."
"I didn't," Jack said. "Not at first, anyway. Hammond stuck her on the team and wouldn't let me kick her off."
"And I imagine you tried."
"Oh yeah." He shook his head. "You should'a been there. That was probably the rockiest briefing I've ever been through, and not just because Hammond didn't like me back then and Samuels was trying to shut down the program. No, they decided I needed some Pentagon labcoat to be the brains of the team, and I didn't exactly agree with that."
Daniel smiled. He knew how vehemently Jack could "not exactly agree."
"That," Jack pronounced, "is what we call Murphy's Law in action. I don't think I could have a worse briefing if I tried. ...kinda fun, in a way." He smiled. "I called her 'Doctor' at one point and she came at me so fast I thought I wouldn't be able to sit down for a week. 'It is appropriate to refer to someone by their rank, not their salutation,'" he said, doing a fair impression of Carter snapping. "She also challenged me to armwrestle."
"You're kidding me," Daniel said. "Sam?"
"I tell ya, for a while I thought I'd be spending the entire mission butting heads with this pressed-and-protocol posturing... scientist," he ended, unable to find a better epithet. "I think once she'd convinced us she was tough enough, she dropped the act, went back to being herself." He found himself smiling into his glass. "You should have seen her when we turned on the 'gate. It was like giving a kid a pony, multiplied by about ten thousand times."
"I think that's what I'll miss most," Daniel said. "I dunno. The world Out There just doesn't seem as interesting without her. She was the only person I knew who could make the DHD seem... exciting."
Jack snorted. "Carter's Wormhole Explanation of the Week."
Daniel laughed into his cup. For months Jack had pestered her, off and on, with decreasingly serious questions about how the wormhole worked. It had taken her some time before she realized he was in it for the fun – seeing how many new and novel ways she could find to explain, to try and get the information to stick in her CO's skull. Eventually she'd written up a treatise, outlining every basic aspect of wormhole travel in the simplest possible language complete with diagrams. He'd come in to work one day to find it tacked to his locker. "You know," Daniel said, "I think we still have that pamphlet in the base library."
"You're kidding me," Jack said.
"Dr. Felger titled it 'wormholes for dummies' and Sergeant Grant took it home and bound it," Daniel said. "She says it's been a very useful tool in training new recruits."
"Remember that book on wormhole physics she wrote when we were on those atunik armband things?" Jack asked. "She got that thing up to – what? Three thousand pages?"
"Twenty-six hundred."
"Twenty-six hundred." Jack shook his head. "And it wasn't even finished, was it?"
"I think it was finished," Daniel said. "Just not... complete."
Jack blinked.
"...she hadn't proofed it," Daniel clarified. "What, three years, and she never had the time." He set down his glass.
"Time," Jack repeated. It all came down to time – time to evac, time to get out. Her time had been stolen from her. She'd left so much undone.
"Time," Daniel repeated after him. "Time... time travel. Nineteen sixty-nine? Only Sam could have gotten us out of that one."
"Solar flares," Jack agreed. "Coronal – something. Mass emissions." He drank. "You wouldn't think I'd be able to forget that, given that I spent three months learning it."
"Yeah, well, how much Latin do you remember?" Daniel jabbed.
"Mostly I remember you freaking out every time I translated something."
Daniel shrugged. "From my perspective, it was ten hours. I really wasn't expecting you to suddenly become versed in Classical Latin."
"Yeah, Carter wouldn't leave me alone for about a week after that, either," he said. "So many questions about the time inversion, the 'gate beam, that damn whack-a-mole altar dealie."
"The geomagnetic storm," Daniel put in. "I don't know how anyone could get that excited over ionization in the atmosphere, but she did."
"The mimic crystals. She sent three requests my way to take them to Stanford," Jack put in.
"Your homemade Ancient power source."
"The black hole at P3W – whatever."
"451," Daniel finished for him. "You people had me scared back then. Two weeks without being able to dial into Earth. I thought Apophis got you."
"He didn't, though," Jack said. "We got him a couple of times. Vorash?" He couldn't help grinning. "Leave it to Carter to blow up a sun."
"Yeah; that was one of her flashier moments," Daniel said, with an answering grin. "I guess she wanted to show up Bauer and that weapon that blew up a planet."
"Naqahdriah," Jack said. Speaking of weapons that blow up planets. Then he caught himself; realized what he'd said. "...you weren't around for the naqahdriah."
Silence descended.
"She tried so hard to save me," Daniel said. "I remember she brought out the healing device – she didn't know how to use it, but she tried anyway. Then later, when I was dying, she came in and talked to me..." he trailed off. "She gave me credit for things I think she found on her own. I think the things she thought she saw in me – they're what everyone else saw in her."
Jack scanned his face with a practiced eye. Daniel's humility wasn't born of politeness or social custom – death and Daniel had an odd relationship, and his perceptions could become so entangled that even his perceived logic took a while to find. For Daniel, bizarrely, death brought out the best in people. Every sacrifice became a saint. Before his ascension, bleeding in the Infirmary, he'd told Jack that his life was no more valuable than anyone else's. And how could it be, when he valued everyone else's so highly – when he would, had, did die for people he didn't even know? And if that was the case, when the death was a close friend...
Jack chewed, trying to turn the conversation back. "The naqahdah reactor," he said. "I think she built that thing out of spare parts, and it still managed to work, first try."
"Third," Daniel corrected absently. "Merrin tried to fix it for her, but she wouldn't let her." He smiled wanly. "Thrill of discovery."
"Saving the Asgard in general," Jack said.
"Leptons," Daniel put in.
"K'Tau's sun."
"The cartouche."
"Those things in the giant pyramid."
Daniel looked up. "Those were the leptons, Jack."
"I knew that," Jack lied.
Daniel finished off his drink. "...the pulsar."
"The pulsar," Jack repeated, and the exchange spiraled into darkness again.
Jack's cell phone rang.
Half on instinct, he pulled it from his pocket and held it up. "Teal'c," he read, opening the phone and raising it to his ear. "Maybe he feels like telling us why he's late," he muttered. "Hello?"
Teal'c's voice came through, recognizable but indistinct from where Daniel sat.
"What?" Jack asked, and a moment later stood. "Yeah. No – we'll be right there."
"What?" Daniel asked, standing on instinct as Jack hung up. "What is it?"
Jack flipped open his wallet, shelling out more than the drinks were worth and leaving it on the table. "We have to get back to the SGC, now," he said, pulling Daniel along. "You drive."
"What's going on?"
"Nobody knows," Jack said.
The significance struck him. "Anubis?" he asked.
"Nobody knows," Jack said, steering him toward the door. "Come on, let's move."
-
"I should just move in here," Jack announced, stalking into the control room and casting a disapproving look over the occupants. Teal'c and Siler waited for him, the former standing protectively over the techs as if the atmosphere would attack them. "Not like I can ever get away. What's up?"
"The SGC has fallen under attack," Teal'c said. "Several of the gateroom guards have been injured."
"When? How? By whom?"
"About fifteen minutes ago, we don't know how, and we don't know who," Siler said. "But we think it came through PV1-542."
"What?" Daniel asked.
"A wave of gamma radiation came through the 'gate. Looked like the tail end of a pulse. A lot made it through even with the Iris closed."
"Are you saying Anubis moved in?" Jack demanded.
"If Anubis has the pulsar base, then simply by establishing and maintaining a wormhole to this world he could inflict significant damage," Teal'c said. "However, this has not occurred."
"So exactly what did happen?" Jack asked.
Siler glanced from him to Teal'c and back again. "Exactly, sir?"
"Roughly. What's roughly happened?"
"A wormhole established, and a burst of hard radiation came through. The Stargate was charged, though nowhere near as severely as when Anubis used his Ancient weapon on us. During that time we couldn't use the 'gate or run it through a diagnostic. Now, it remained charged for about ten minutes before a massive energy wave travelled from the 'gate into the main computers, knocking out our first-tier systems. We've isolated the effected banks, but we can't interface with them at all any more from the main system, and we're pretty sure all information has been destroyed, erased or corrupted."
"So we're definitely talking about an attack," Jack said. "A virus, or something."
"Well, anything I could say at the moment would be speculation, sir–"
"Then speculate!"
Siler looked to Teal'c. "It seems that way to me."
Teal'c nodded. "If there is natural or benign cause to this, it has yet to be discovered," he said.
"You said you isolated the computers," Daniel checked.
Siler nodded. "We pulled them away from the walls and everything. There's definitely something in there – the computer banks are putting out low levels of radiation – but we've done what we can."
"Radiation?" Daniel asked, slightly paler.
"Harmless amounts, sir," Siler reassured.
"But a lot more came through at first," Daniel said.
Siler nodded. "But we think that was direct from the pulsar, not a result of the anomaly." He looked to Jack. "What would you like us to do, sir?"
Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Where's Hammond?"
"General Hammond had not arrived home at the time we called him," Teal'c said. "We could only leave a message on his answering machine."
"And his cell?" Hammond so rarely had occasion to use his cell phone – almost all of the cell traffic through the SGC went to one of his subordinates. He usually had it on him, but it wasn't unheard of that he'd leave it off or even (albeit rarely) forget it in his office.
"There was no answer," Teal'c said.
Jack frowned. "For the record, I've had a drink today and I'm only in here because I thought the world was gonna end," he said. "I'll make the call if I have to, but can it wait until Hammond gets in?"
"I don't know that we're in immediate danger," Siler said. "But so far we haven't been able to predict what will happen or when. It went from the 'gate into the computers with no warning whatsoever."
(He's deferring the decision to me. Great.) Jack shook his head. "What are we talking about here? What are our options?"
"One: we could wait to see what happens," Siler rattled off. "We don't know that anything will. We may have impeded the progress of this thing by isolating the computer banks. Two: we try to wipe it out with an EMP. This will definitely wipe the banks, if they aren't gone already. Three: we destroy the banks completely. I have no idea what that will do, but it should ground or discharge the energy. Four: ...someone else comes up with something." He looked helplessly to Teal'c.
"Has it tried to communicate?" Daniel asked.
Everyone looked at him.
"...you don't know it's not intelligent, do you?" Daniel asked. "If it came from '542 – I mean, it's worth a shot."
"I'm sorry," Jack said. "Does anyone besides me remember what happened the last time we tried to talk to a virus?"
"Yeah, Sam got–" he stopped. "...Sam almost died." He exhaled. "So this time we'll wear thick rubber gloves."
"Siler?"
Siler shrugged. "We could hook up a monitor and try to access the banks. I don't think it would be able to travel through a monitor and down a power cord into the base's wiring, but it is a risk."
"How much of one?"
"I'd say slight, sir."
"Right. Well." Jack looked around the room again. "Why don't you get a monitor and a keyboard and meet us down there. And bring some thick rubber gloves."
"Yes sir," Siler said.
"T?" Jack asked. "You stay here. Keep an eye on things from this end and tell us if it looks like things are going wrong." (Wronger.)
Teal'c nodded. "I shall."
"Daniel? After you," Jack said, ushering them into the hall. He dropped his voice. "You're sure this is a good idea?"
"I'm hoping," Daniel said. "Why? You're not?"
"You're joking, right?" Jack hit the elevator callbutton. "I'm wondering if the fact that we're doing this calls my judgement into question."
"I don't think I've ever seen your judgement impaired," Daniel said. "Well, Argos. But that wasn't your fault. I guess."
"That's because I don't get drunk around you, Mr. One-Beer-Limit." The doors opened. "Hammond had to leave his phone off. The universe couldn't wait a few more days to go all crazy again."
They made the elevator ride in silence.
"You never said they were friendly, did you?" Jack asked.
"Who?"
"The star people. Did anyone actually say they were friendly aliens?"
"Well, 'willing and interested in communication–'"
"But not specifically with us. For all we know they could have called Anubis down on us and then sent a virus to finish us off."
Daniel cast a defeated glare at him from the corner of his eyes. "That's a bleak assumption."
"I'm not assuming anything. I'm just saying. You never know."
Another silence fell between them as they stopped outside the computer bay, waiting for Siler. Neither wanted to step in before they had to.
Siler didn't take long. He arrived a few minutes later pushing a cart – on which rested a monitor, several cords, a keyboard, a field scanner, and three pairs of gloves. He keyed in the access code and the door slid open, a faint chorus of hums and chirps greeting them from within.
Jack walked around the edge of the room, carefully avoiding cables as if they would lash out and sting him. "It's not plugged in."
"No, sir," Siler said.
"It's flashing and beeping."
"Yes, sir. The computers are on."
"Is that possible?"
"It must be drawing energy from the thing inside it," Daniel said. "Maybe it knows what they are. This could be a sign of intelligence."
"All right," Jack said, tugging on his gloves. "Siler? Go to."
Siler maneuvered the monitor into place on one of the lower banks, plugging in the series of adaptors and cables while trying not to actually touch the computers. After a moment of confusion with the power cord, he let it dangle and stepped back. "All yours, sir."
Daniel reached out gingerly, ready to pull back at a moment's notice. Quickly, he jabbed the monitor's "on" button and yanked his hand away.
The monitor flickered on, warming up its pixels from black to a flat slate-grey. A diagnostic screen showed up – not a system diagnostic, but a monitor diagnostic. Geometry, color and size.
Twenty seconds passed in silence.
The monitor shorted out.
Jack looked at Daniel. "Any more bright ideas?"
The computer banks began a low, rising whine.
Jack looked back at it, wary. "Siler?"
"Radiation is climbing," Siler read from his instrument. "Still negligible, but–"
A bolt of lightning roared from one bank into the wall, shooting within an inch of Jack's head. He jumped back, grabbing Daniel and hauling him doorward. "Siler! Out! Now!"
Three more bolts hammered into the ceiling and walls as they fell back, Siler hitting the emergency-shut on the door as the hallway lights flickered. From inside the room the bolts continued, the sound of their impacts and the smell of ozone passing beneath the door as it hit the ground.
His radio clicked. "O'Neill," Teal'c said. "Energy is fluctuating near the computer core. What is your status?"
"We just nearly got fried," Jack answered quickly. "If this thing is smart, it's sure not friendly." He looked from Daniel to Siler, both of whom looked more than a little freaked – understandable, since he did too. "Radiation?" he asked.
Siler looked down. "Higher than it was, but we should be fine, sir."
"Yeah, well, let's not take any chances," Jack said. "Infirmary. Now." He hit his radio as he headed down the hall. "Teal'c. Any luck with Hammond?"
"General Hammond will be here in twenty minutes," Teal'c said. "He has advised us to take any action to prevent the anomaly from compromising the base."
The lights behind them dropped entirely, flickered back on, and cut out again. Jack cast a glance back over his shoulder. "Teal'c, whatever it is, it's not contained. At the very least it's messing up the lights in this hallway. Blast doors are down and nothing's plugged in, but it can probably still cause us problems, and I mean massive ones."
From the other side of the line, Teal'c considered. "Then you must destroy it."
"That was my thought too." He sighed. "Siler? Soon as the doc clears you? EMP that thing." He looked to Daniel, ready to defend the decision. But Daniel didn't protest. "Teal'c? Get the EMP ready with Siler. We're knocking this thing out."
"Understood."
Jack looked to Daniel again, still waiting for the argument. It didn't come. (...okay. Note to self: check on that.)
They doubletimed it down the hall.
-
By now the act of having his blood count taken hardly registered in Jack's mind. It didn't even seem strange that it had become so routine. If he noticed it at all, it was as something not worth noticing – of course they'd been exposed to radiation. Of course the doctors and nurses and medtechs would be checking in on them again and again and again, measuring how close they were to dying. The surprising thing wasn't the frequency, it was that no one had issued them personal dosimeters yet.
Daniel didn't do so well. He weathered the examination – one didn't remain on SG-1 for long without learning to put up with the SGC medical staff – but the way he held himself showed clearly that he only weathered it physically.
"Daniel?" Jack asked.
Daniel closed his eyes, rocking back and forth at the edge of his seat. "I hate radiation," he said. "I really, really hate it."
"Join the club. We had shirts made." Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I have to admit, I expected you to put up a fight."
"About what?"
"Using the EMP."
Daniel exhaled. "Why'd I do that?"
"Because you usually put up a fight when I want to blow stuff up." (Especially when we don't know what it is.)
"Yeah, I do, don't I?"
(Okay, playing this takes way more skill than I have at the moment.) "What's up, Daniel?"
Daniel looked at the floor past his feet. With Sam's death, this new assault, and Anubis' perpetual presence at the periphery of everything the SGC did, what he wanted more than anything, for himself and for those around him, was to be safe. What they did was full of risks; he held no illusions about that. But he couldn't take much more damage. Logically, he knew the world was no more dangerous today than it had been yesterday, but viscerally, he wanted to cut out all the risks he could.
Jack's role was to protect his team. Daniel argued against it when he thought it wasn't their paramount concern. He wouldn't stand in the way of it now.
"I trust your judgement," he said.
"Since when?"
Daniel eyed him over the top of his glasses. "I trust you, Jack. I usually don't agree with you, but I trust you."
"Interesting line," Jack said. A shadow darkened the doorway.
"The EMP was not successful," Teal'c said.
Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Not at all?"
"It seemed to have no effect," Teal'c confirmed.
Jack glanced at Daniel. "Well, I wasn't really expecting that to work. Hammond?"
"He should arrive shortly."
"In the mean time, what's the damage?" He peered into the hall. Siler was absent. (Well, that could be good or bad.)
"The computer banks have been rendered inoperable. Sergeant Siler is overseeing the implementation of our first-level backups."
"Is that wise?"
Teal'c's expression barely changed – a faint edge of resignation crept into the line of his mouth, pulled itself into his eyes. "I do not know."
Jack blinked slowly. At least Hammond would be in soon. He could decide. It might have been the alcohol (unlikely), the late hour (even less likely), or just his own futile attempts to fix things (entirely possible – both the situational problems of the SGC and the internal problems of SG-1), but he felt woefully ill-equipped to deal with the situation. Of course, Hammond would order the actions he felt necessary. Siler would do all he could.
(But the person we need working on this...)
Standing above him, Teal'c wore the same expression, albeit muted to a Teal'c level. Daniel looked tired. Just tired.
(Yeah. None of us have a clue what to do here. It's out of our league. We need some genius technical insight and that's not our job.) SG-1 had become an entity in its own right: while individually they often found themselves working at crosspurposes, as a unit, as a team, they'd been unstoppable. Each knew each other's strengths, and could defer to them. Now was time to defer to Carter.
Only one problem with that plan.
Daniel leaned forward, studying the back of one hand intently. Jack picked himself up. (Okay. Now that I know I've personally screwed things up as far as they'll screw, time to stop feeling sorry for us all.) "I'm going to stay on hand, just in case," he said. (And it's not as if Teal'c has anyplace outside the SGC to run off to. Which means that Daniel won't be leaving either, but I should at least give him the option.) "Daniel, if you want to head home–"
"No, I'll stay," Daniel answered. "I can check on Dr. Daggart's work. Maybe there's something in the translations."
(It probably won't help us at all, but at least it's something to do.) Jack nodded. "That'd be good. Teal'c?"
"I will return to the computer level," Teal'c said. "If it becomes necessary to destroy the computer banks, it would be best to do so as quickly as possible."
"Right. Be careful." Jack stood up. "I'm going to go meet Hammond. Call if you need anything."
Heart in his stomach, he headed for the door.
-
Daniel stepped into his lab, starting up a pot of coffee automatically. He didn't think of the affair as stretching into an all-nighter – for what he could do, time was probably not a factor. But he didn't think he could sleep. Too many things jammed themselves into his mind – Anubis, M'Zel, the virus, Sam's absence. A sick knot came to his stomach when he thought about them. He couldn't help feeling that the only reason the world hadn't crumbled under its own complexity was that things were so tangled, no single issue had enough weight to topple the whole.
He turned on his computer, swiping a paper towel across the inside of his mug as it booted up. (I'll scan over what Daggart's team translated first,) he thought. (Then I'll start in on some of the minor records they sent back with Jack the first time. I really wish they'd had the time to copy out some of those major files from the comm room... some insight into crazy energy things would come in handy about now.)
The lights in the hallway flickered, followed by the lights in his lab. He stopped, setting down his mug. (Uh-oh,) he thought. Was the interference spreading? To this level, or through it? (...I had better report this.) He reached for his phone.
His monitor exploded.
A bolt of energy roared out, tearing through him and throwing him back. Images flashed above the sound of his scream, above the shattering porcelain mug, reeling from his earliest memory in increasing detail through his time at the SGC.
He saw Sha'uri, pulling off her veil that first night on Abydos. He saw Apophis, taking Amonet's hand. He saw Sam, walking with him on Cimmeria – saw the rotating texts in Heliopolis. A mirror shimmered and threw him across universes. A sarcophagus closed above him. He delivered last rites to Apophis's dying host, kissed Ke'ra in her quarters, held his wife's son once – fought Osiris in his temple, sat with Teal'c by his deathbed, felt the twisting heat of a healing device misused as Sam tried her hardest to save him. He saw the pulsar flash, saw fire rain upon him as Jack pulled him to the ground and the world fell apart.
It should have taken a lifetime to re-live. It didn't. It shot through him in half an instant, and when he hit the wall it was gone.