Vala pursed her lips. “Goodness. After all this, forced to hide… well. If you have need of alternative transportation to see friends and loved ones on a now-inaccessible planet, I’m certain ferry services could be arranged for the right price.”
He smiled at her. “A very kind offer.”
Vala winked and returned his smile. “How long are you expected to hide away from the threat of this plague which may or may not be coming?” She was trying to calculate how many trips she could book with him and his friends.
“I do not know. But perhaps it will not be long. A member of the new Jaffa government is said to be working with several humans in an attempt to stop the virus from being released. If they are successful we can raise our chappa’ai within the next few days.”
Vala’s attention shifted again. “Stop the virus… how?”
Miri’k shrugged. “There is said to be a device in Kali’s treasures that will deactivate the delivery system. Their intention is to recover anything that originated in her realm until they find something which can prevent the plague. But why are we dwelling on such matters?” He slid his hand onto her thigh under the bar. “Perhaps there are better things we can discuss to pass the time.”
Baq’rel returned at that moment, saving Vala from manufacturing an excuse to extricate herself. He grumbled when he saw her but directed his comment to Miri’k.
“We must leave.”
“Really?” Vala feigned a pout. “But we were just getting better acquainted. We were going to run a transportation business together.”
Baq’rel said, “This does not concern you! Miri’k, I received word from Jocia. Apparently a grafter he’s been hunting down for years finally showed her craven face, but she slipped away before he could get hold of her. We’re gathering a group to seek her out.” He looked past his friend at Vala. “I suppose if you wish to join us, we would welcome the extra set of eyes.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose. It sounds like ‘man-business.’ And I just remembered that I need to speak with a friend of mine if we’re going to start flying Jaffa all over the sky.” She patted Miri’k on the chest and slipped away from him. “But we will definitely reconnect just as soon as possible. You can be my inaugural passengers! Ta for now, boys!”
She turned and fled from the bar before he could protest or any of Jocia’s friends could get a closer look at her. Once she was outside, her smile faded as quickly as her memory of Miri’k. A woman she passed had a multi-colored scarf draped over her shoulder, and Vala plucked it away so deftly that the woman wasn’t aware of what happened. She wrapped it loosely around her face, lifted it up over her nose, and hunched her shoulders to keep from drawing attention to herself.
There was nothing she could do to find Tanis; she could be warming far too many potential beds for Vala to even hope of tracking her down. Her only option was returning to the tel’tak, keeping everything shut down so she didn’t register on any scans, and trying to think of her next step. She didn’t like the idea of waiting until morning to leave but she also couldn’t risk staying on the streets if Jocia and his goon squad were scouring every dive and pub for her. There was no doubt she could extricate herself from whatever they had planned. Jocia was no murderer and torture was outside of his vocabulary. At best any vengeance he wished to serve would involve a lot of yelling and futile attempts to shame her. But she couldn’t spare the time. If what Miri’k and Baq’rel said was true, she and Tanis needed to act as quickly as possible to prevent a potential catastrophe.
Somebody was trying to steal their treasure.
“Medical supplies?” Jack squinted at Sam and Daniel for a moment, trying to gauge if they were setting him up for irritation. They had just entered his office, Teal’c at their shoulder, and it was all he could do not to join them on the other side of the desk. He reluctantly took the seat of power and laced his hands on the blotter in front of him. “That’s really all she wants in exchange for this information?”
Sam said, “Yes, sir.”
“This isn’t like when we were going to trade water for weapons, right? There’s no such thing as heavy medical supplies.”
“Well, some of them can be quite heavy. But no, sir. She’s asking for the basics: bandages, sutures, tools. Her patients are Jaffa so most of their needs are met by either a symbiote or tretonin, but physical wounds require a little bit of help. Nicia has been doing a great job up to this point trying to keep up with demand, but there’s only so much that can be traded and so much time in the day. If we provided a few necessary supplies it would give them a nice cushion to work with.”
Daniel said, “And they’re asking for the sort of things I would hope we’d be giving them even without the promise of getting something in return.”
Jack nodded slowly. “Okay… and the invitation to this party Wyrrick is throwing… she can get that for us?”
Daniel hesitated before speaking. “Not… exactly. She doesn’t have one. Like we said, she’s entirely focused on taking care of the villagers right now. She isn’t trading for anything she can’t use to heal or ease pain.”
“So she doesn’t have any invitations to give us.”
“Not as such. No.”
“But she can tell us how to get some.”
“Yes.”
Jack rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Gotta tell ya, it’s starting to feel a lot like you kids are just running around the neighborhood stacking up favors.”
Teal’c, who had remained otherwise silent, finally spoke, “But the cause is just.”
Jack looked at his old friend. “Indeed. Look, I’m not complaining about why we’re doing it, I’m just starting to wonder if it’s not all just a wild goose chase. Treasures and masquerade parties and borrowing from here to bribe there to get information from that. How do we know there’s a real solution at the end of all this? How do we know we’re not just spinning our wheels while this clock keeps ticking?”
Daniel said, “I think it’s a risk we’ll have to take, Jack. For the sake of the Jaffa, we can’t just ignore the potential solution until we’ve confirmed its validity. You have SG-9 looking for Kali in Bastet’s strongholds, so you’re not putting all your eggs in one basket. I think this is the best shot.”
Jack drummed two fingers on his desk and glanced toward the briefing room. Another team was due back in forty-five minutes. If he agreed to exchange medical supplies for information, it would take time to put the package together. After that, the next available time for SG-1 to take it back to the planet would be the next day at oh-eight-fifteen. If he didn’t decide the mission was a wash. So far they’d only come up with information, slowly moving one step at a time closer to a hopeful solution. What if they got to Wyrrick’s shindig and discovered he had given the pedestal away to a friend? How long could they afford to chase this wild goose across the galaxy?
“I’ve spoken with the infirmary,” Daniel prodded. “They have enough of a surplus that they could begin preparing a shipment immediately. They just need your say-so.”
Jack made his decision. He could spend a few hours debating the pros and cons, weighing the potential costs, but he knew where he would end up. Why waste the time? “They have it. Tell them to put together everything Nicia asked for, and whatever they can think of that she didn’t. You leave tomorrow morning if the supplies are ready.”
Sam said, “Thank you, sir.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
He gestured at the door with his pen. “Now get out of here. Rest up. You’ve been running around the galaxy for thirty-six hours by my count. You’ve earned a break.”
They left with little argument, a testament to just how tired they must have been, but Teal’c lingered until they had gone. He stepped closer to the desk. “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. William Shakespeare.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that. The author, not the quote. Trust me, I buy the quote.” He sighed heavily and rubbed his face. “General Hammond m
ade this look so easy.”
“Indeed, he was truly a great leader.”
“And I’m not?”
Teal’c refused to take the bait and only smiled. “General Hammond had a great many years in which to hone his skills as a leader, and yet he still questioned himself. It was those questions that led to him making the right decisions, which is what leads you to deem him a great leader. It will take time, but I have no doubt you will one day be as respected and revered as your predecessor.”
“Yeah. Well…” He looked down at his desk and sighed. “Right now I’m regretting the decision to let Dr. Weir go ahead to Atlantis. How about you, T? I’m not the only one struggling with the yoke of leadership. You’ve been hornswoggled into a pioneer role yourself with the new Jaffa nation.”
Teal’c took a slow breath, which for him was the same as a heavy sigh. “It is a burden. However I admit I was naïve to think I could simply help my people achieve freedom and afterward step back into anonymity. I believe the reverence they feel toward me was better earned by Bra’tac.”
“You’re the one who got them to Dakara. You’re the one who took a chance on a snarky, unarmed soldier because he had a cool wristwatch. You were the one who took the steps necessary to get your people to this point.”
“You are correct, General O’Neill. And you are also the one who has taken the steps to get your people to this point. Your decisions as commander of SG-1, and as the leader of this base, have earned your seat behind this desk. Do not question your wisdom, O’Neill, for it has served you thus far.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know I was signing up for a therapy session. But fair point.” He drummed his knuckles on the edge of the desk and a slow smile began to form. “It’s good to have you back here at the SGC.”
“My return to the base is only temporary, O’Neill.”
“Sure. I understand. Doesn’t make it any less nice to see you back.”
Teal’c looked out toward the briefing room. “It has been a very long time since I had a home to miss, but I often find myself nostalgic for these halls.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean. This whole place kind of looks different when you’re on this side of the desk. But you don’t have to worry about that. Any time you want to come back… I mean, it costs an arm and a leg just to light this place, and that Stargate out there is a bitch to turn on. But for you? The door is always open.”
“I will not forget, O’Neill.”
CHAPTER NINE
Twin obsidian spires rose on either side of the courtyard, reaching high enough to be seen above the temple’s walls. Morello and Huang crouched next to the entrance with their P90s at the ready, waiting as Getty and Shaffer proceeded to the next doorway. Morello took the opportunity to examine the wall carvings, her keen eye and scholar’s mind cutting through the overgrowth and desolation to see the palace for the beautiful place it had once been. The alabaster walls were cool to the touch even through the sleeve of her uniform jacket. Straight ahead was a reflecting pool that was half-full of unclean water, but she could imagine it brimming with fresh water brought in from the nearby stream.
Getty and Shaffer cleared the next section of the temple, so Morello was forced to give up her appreciation of design and be a soldier for another thirty seconds. She and Huang advanced with their heads low, brushing past their teammates to enter the secondary ring of the temple. Here there were unlit braziers high on the wall flanked by carvings of regally-posed cats or lions. According to her reading, there would be a third inner room, and beyond that was Bastet’s personal sanctum sanctorum. It was protected by a thick door it would take three of them to move if it had been closed. She shone her light through and saw, to her relief, it was open just enough for them to enter.
They had sent MALPs to five different planets in Bastet’s domain, using out-of-date Tok’ra intelligence to determine which ones were most likely to be abandoned. The information was from a time when Bastet was still alive, so details were sketchy at best. The first three planets, along with the fifth, all showed signs of vast devastation. Apparently the people Bastet had ruled wasted no time in leaving after she was killed, and her Jaffa showed no regard for the trappings of their former goddess. The fourth planet, however, looked promising enough to justify sending them to check it out in person. Equal amounts of destruction, the same outwardly abandoned appearance, but some of the clutter had been moved out of the way to clear a path away from the Stargate.
After arriving on the planet they found more signs of recent activity: storefronts in the village were ransacked and doors on certain buildings had been forced open. There wasn’t enough damage to indicate a full-scale looting incident, so Morello was growing more confident of her theory that Kali was hiding out somewhere on the planet. They had searched the village and found nothing, so she was hoping they would find the missing System Lord hiding in her former ally’s throne room. Outside it was bordering on a hundred degrees and she was very aware of the sweat gathering on her skin. She couldn’t easily wipe her face without removing her goggles, and she didn’t want to risk sand-blinding herself in the process, so she simply let it drip down onto the collar of her jacket.
Her palms were also sweaty against the grip of her gun and she again felt a moment of lightheaded shock at the route her life had taken. She’d wanted to explore ancient cultures, unlock the mysteries of the past. One day someone had shown up with an unbelievable opportunity to follow those goals, but there was just one catch: training and military service and aiming guns at dark doorways in case bad guys were lurking around the corner. She pushed back the feeling of disconnect and focused on the task as her commanding officer approached and crouched down to her left. She had shot at people, possibly even killed them, but they had been in the process of trying to kill her at the time. Dr. Jackson proved it was possible to live in both worlds, but she was still straining to find that balance.
Getty checked to make sure his team was in position before he spoke, raising his voice so that it echoed off the stone walls around them. “Hello, in there. I’m Colonel Getty of SG-9. We’re from Earth and we’re only here to have a nice, civilized chat. We’re going to come in with our weapons drawn, but it’s up to you whether we fire them or not. I figure you went to all this trouble to stay alive. Wouldn’t want to throw all that away now, would we?”
There was only silence from within, not even the scrape of shoe against stone as their prey changed position. Getty held up his hand for a silent five-count, then motioned for Shaffer to lead the way. He stepped to the door, slid sideways through the gap, and swung his weapon to the left.
“We have one hostile, sir. She’s not making any aggressive moves.”
Huang and Getty went next, leaving Morello to bring up the rear. By the time she was in the room, the rest of her team had taken up positions with their weapons triangulated on a spot near the opposite wall. In the middle of the room was an altar, the scuttles once used to gather blood of sacrifices repurposed to hold food. Behind the throne was a giant black statue of a woman with the head of a cat, her arms stretched out to either side as if bidding them entrance.
Standing at the base of the throne, dressed in a dirty chambray shirt and a ratty floral skirt was a dark-skinned woman, her hair an unwashed rat’s-nest of curls and tangles. A ratty piece of lace was wrapped around the lower half of her face, but the veil was short enough that Morello could see the woman’s jaw moving when she spoke. She scanned the four of them with disinterest bordering on irritation, her arms held slightly away from her body in a posture of surrender.
“Stargate Command. You said your number is…”
“Nine,” Getty said. “Nice to meet you.”
She nodded slowly. “You are here to execute me.”
“Actually, lady, it’s your lucky day. We’re here so that you can help us.”
Kali raised an eyebrow. “You suggest we ally ourselves? To what end?”
“According to Captain Morello here, yo
u’re not above the occasional alliance. Figured we’d give it a shot now that you’re not so high and mighty.”
Kali looked at Morello, and she had to remind herself that the woman wasn’t actually a god. It was easy to see how people could be fooled; Kali definitely had a deep well of power even standing in the middle of a devastated throne room and dressed in rags.
“You know of me.”
Morello swallowed the lump in her throat. She refused to be intimidated. “I’ve read a few things. Did a little research when I knew we’d be dealing with you.”
“And how can I assist the mighty Tau’ri?”
Morello glanced at Getty, who gave her the go-ahead with a slight dip of his chin. She faced Kali again and spoke with a bit more strength in her voice. “You left a failsafe behind in case you were ever overthrown. It’s going to kill the Jaffa if we don’t stop it.”
“Ah. That.” The skin under her eyes rose, indicating a smile. She brought her arms up and crossed them over her chest. “Your people have achieved your victory. The System Lords have been exiled and the Goa’uld are no longer feared. We are forced to hide like rats. Congratulations. But battles cannot be won without bloodshed. You will pay for your victory with the blood of your allies. This war will end only when the Jaffa have paid for their betrayal in death.”
Getty said, “You sure you want to draw the line there? The only other option here doesn’t bode well for your continued survival, you know.”
Kali spread her arms further apart. “Then strike me down, knowing that my legacy will continue once every shol’va in this galaxy dies at my hand.”
“Easy there, sport,” Getty said. “We might not have anything to talk about, but I know General O’Neill would like to have a chat with you. Lieutenant Huang, kindly secure the prisoner. Captain Morello, contact SGC and let them know we’ll be bringing a guest back with us.”
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