The Cost of Honor

by Stargate

  Another bow, and he turned away. She followed as he led her through the cloister, toward the Sanctum of the Kaw'ree: the guardians of the sheh fet. This was her third visit to Tsapan, and her most urgent. Escape from the sheh fet was impossible. Such a thing had never occurred, and its portent was disturbing. If news of such defiance were allowed to spread, if the people were to consider the sheh fet fallible... The thought did not bear exploration. But the Kaw'ree would explain it all. They would explain this impossibility.

  Her guide stopped before the carved wooden doors of the Sanctum, turned, and bowed a final time before retreating back down the corridor. Ignoring the flutter in her stomach, Damaris rapped on the heavy door. Her knock seemed to raise little sound, yet the door swung open on silent hinges and she was bidden to enter the room beyond.

  The domed ceiling swept up above her, decorated in rainbow colors, depicting scenes she could not interpret. Scenes from Kinahhi's past, before the fall of the false gods and the rise of the world she knew. But here, in this halfway house, sat the remnants of those days. A bridge between past and present; a link to a history even more ancient than Tsapan. The nine men and women watched her, their eyes bright as stars against the robes they wore, their sallow skin riddled with scarlet tendrils that radiated from their temples, threaded down their necks and disappeared beneath the black velvet of their robes. The Kaw'ree. She bowed low, out of respect and fear. So close, she suspected they could see her thoughts hanging in the air before them.

  "You are afraid," a woman's voice said. "You are afraid of the Tauri."

  Straightening, Damaris nodded. Denial was impossible in this place. "They are unpredictable, their minds powerful. The one who has escaped is a danger to Kinahhi."

  "We saw his mind," another replied, a man. Smooth skinned and softly spoken, he was the youngest of the Kaw'ree. "He is strong-willed, volatile. Fascinating. But we could not hold him."

  Damaris looked between them, confused. "Why not? Is his mind so strong?" Stronger than the sheh fet?

  "Not stronger than the sheh Yet," the young man rebuked her. "But his blood is tainted. He is Mahr'bal."

  Impossible! "He is not from this world!" she protested. "How can he be Mahr'bal?"

  The woman spoke again, turning her bright eyes on the Councilor. "That is a question we cannot answer. We have searched the mind of the Tauri woman, but of this she knows nothing." A slight confusion flickered through her eyes. "Yet she has strength, great strength, and great knowledge."

  "Knowledge we cannot access."

  Cannot access? "Is she too tainted? Are they both Mahr'bal?" Frustration curled unpleasantly inside her chest. If all Tauri were incompatible with the sheh fet...

  "Her link was damaged," the woman replied. "The man - O'Neill - attempted to free her."

  Yes, of course. "Can you restore the link? She has information I must have. The Tauri have much to teach us, and this one knows more than most about their defenses, their leaders..."

  The young man raised his hand. His skin was almost translucent, and she could see crimson strands fanning out along his fingers like the fragile roots of a plant. "We may. The link is not broken, merely damaged. In time, we will subdue her."

  Hope eased the Councilor's frustration and she breathed more easily. "That is well." After a moment she added, "There are two more aliens on this world. Dr. Daniel Jackson, a Tauri, and Teal'c - known as a Jaffa, servant of the Goa'uld. When they are captured, they will be joined to the sheh fet. They too, have valuable knowledge."

  A hungry smile touched the colorless lips of the woman. "From Dr. Jackson, I believe we will learn much. I glimpsed his mind as he passed through the sheh fet; it is rich and deep. I shall enjoy" She cut herself off, but the desire in her eyes didn't fade as she hissed in two quick breaths. "Yes, I shall enjoy Dr. Jackson."

  Despite herself, Damaris felt a chill at the sight of the woman's hunger and turned her gaze back to the man. He looked scarcely less avid. "It will not be long," she assured them. "Even now, my men are in position - when O'Neill and his friends attempt to free Major Carter, we will have them all."

  "Yes," the young man agreed, resting his head against the back of the tall chair, eyes drifting shut. "You will."

  The others, all nine Kaw'ree, emulated him. They seemed balanced on the point of extreme pleasure or pain. Balanced, but not falling. Waiting, anticipating. Hungering.

  Damaris took it as dismissal and, with a last bow, left the room in relief. But her thoughts were no less confused than when she had arrived. O'Neill was Mahr'bal? If the Kaw'ree said it was true, then she could not question it. But how was it possible? He was not of their world. Unless...

  She stopped dead in the corridor. Could he be a spy from beyond the Cordon? Was there more deceit here than she knew? If the Kaw'ree could not invade his mind, had he been able to deceive the sheh fet in other ways? As the Mahr'bal did, concealing their thoughts in darkness? Fear swiftly turned to anger.

  Colonel Jack O'Neill must be eliminated.

  And the truth about him had to be discovered. With Carter's link to the sheh fet damaged, there was only one other Tauri within her grasp. Only one who could begin to answer her questions. A cold smile of satisfaction reached her lips: Ambassador Crawford.

  Perhaps he would prove more useful than she had first imagined?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ack stalked up the stairs. For a moment Daniel just stared in disbelief, then he darted up after him, taking the steps two at a time and heedless of the wrenching pain in his shoulder. "No!" he hissed as soon as he was within reach, grabbing Jack's arm and yanking him to a halt. "You can't do this."

  "I'm making a judgment call, Daniel," Jack growled. "We can't get her out. If we try we'll all end up trapped in that thing."

  Daniel shook his head. "You don't know that."

  "Yes. I do." He tore his arm free and kept striding up the stairs. So much for reasoned argument!

  Daniel didn't follow, and behind him Teal'c came up the stairs to stand by his side. At the last moment, when he was almost swallowed by the shadows of the staircase, Jack stopped. "I gave you both a goddamn order." It sounded like he was spitting glass.

  Teal'c shifted, clearly disturbed. He seemed uncertain and conflicted -it wasn't an expression often seen on the man's face. But he didn't say anything, and Daniel fixed his attention on Jack.

  "Actually," he said calmly, "you can't give us orders anymore, Jack. Kinsey relieved you of command, remember?"

  There was an icy silence. And then, "Daniel-"

  "Just because you feel guilty about getting us into this," Daniel pressed. "It doesn't mean that-"

  "Daniel!" Jack stepped down a couple of stairs, moving back into the murky light. His face was all hard angles, his eyes flat as stone. "That's not what this is about." He looked at Teal'c. "You know I'm right."

  Teal'c was torn, but eventually he bobbed his head. "O'Neill is correct, Daniel Jackson. We are not equipped to mount an effective rescue of Major Carter at this time. And the Kinahhi are surely awaiting us."

  Daniel couldn't believe what he was hearing! "We've been through worse. We've taken on bigger odds than this. We've-"

  "It's a trap!" Jack snapped. "It's a goddamn trap, Daniel, and I won't lead you into it."

  "But it's Sam!"

  "I know!" His voice cracked as he spat the words, and for an instant Daniel glimpsed what lay beneath: a blizzard of selfrecrimination, pain, loss, duty and honor.

  Jack sucked in a breath, under tight control. "Daniel, it's bad enough that they're sucking Carter's brain out. If they get you too..." He left it hanging, fixing him with a long, serious look. "You don't even know everything you know." He frowned. "If you know what I mean."

  The unease Daniel felt when confronted by the black gap in his memories rolled in like thunder clouds. "You mean, about the Ancients."

  "Among other things."

  Daniel held his gaze, then deliberately dropped it to the P90 Jack held in one hand.
"I'm willing to take the risk. And if it came down to it," he said quietly, "I'm sure you wouldn't let them get me."

  A brief flash of anger widened his friend's eyes. "Daniel-"

  "You'd do the same for Sam."

  Jack flinched - obviously he'd already considered the possibility. But all he said was, "It's not a question of risking our lives. God, if that was all-" He stopped, chewing unspoken words, and cleared his throat. "There's more at stake here."

  "We must warn the Tauri," Teal'c agreed. "Even now, Senator Kinsey is constructing a sheh fet at Stargate Command. If we do not return with the information O'Neill has gleaned, then we cannot prevent the Kinahhi from establishing a hold upon Earth."

  Earth. Damn it, Teal'c was right. They were both right. But, God, it felt so wrong. The fight drained out of him, replaced by a rising tide of grief "I can't believe we're leaving her behind."

  "She'd understand." But Jack's voice was rough, as if he barely understood himself.

  The mournful drip, drip of water against stone was the only sound in the heavy silence. It reminded Daniel how dry his throat felt, how empty his stomach. "We shall return," Teal'c insisted. "We shall return in greater numbers and free her."

  Jack gave a short, tight nod. "The bastards won't know what hit them." But they were only words, a hollow reassurance. Dan iel could see the truth in his friend's empty eyes; Jack believed they were leaving Sam to die. And it was tearing him apart. Daniel held his gaze, and for once Jack didn't look away. He was searching for something. Absolution? Some recognition that he'd made the right choice, that they understood why he was breaking their Golden Rule?

  "Come on," Daniel said quietly, heading up the stairs. "Let's go bring in the cavalry."

  The stench of the sheh fet surrounded him, moist and cloying, clogging his nose even though he was careful to only breathe through his mouth. Commander Kenna stood with his back to the machine - if that was the right word - and kept his eyes locked on the arched doorway of the single entrance into the room.

  Ten of his men surrounded the sheh jet, another twenty lurked in the corridor that led out into the dank streets of the lower levels. O'Neill's friends had taken him by surprise in the tower; they would not do so again. Yet, they were clearly planning their attack carefully, taking their time before returning. He approved of the tactic - sometimes caution was a soldier's best ally - but he found himself surprised. O'Neill had struck him as the reckless type, the kind of man who led from the heart and not the head. Perhaps he'd underestimated him? O'Neill was resourceful, that was without doubt. More than that... Kenna stole a look at the sheh jet, his gaze turning irresistibly to the alien woman tangled in its web. More than that, O'Neill had escaped.

  Such a thing was unprecedented.

  Kenna had not believed that the mind survived intact. But if O'Neill could escape several hours after being joined... An involuntary shiver turned the Commander cold as he watched Major Carter. Her face was slack now, only half traced with the scarlet threads of the sheh jet. O'Neill had tried to free her, so they said. Kenna could imagine the man's frantic efforts, and his ultimate failure. No commander worth the rank easily left his men behind, and he doubted O'Neill was any different. Which was why he knew the Colonel would be back. O'Neill wouldn't leave her here, of that Kenna was certain.

  A slight noise outside wrenched his attention away, gun rising and heart pounding. Then silence fell. Without lowering his sights, Kenna carefully approached the doorway. "Report," he ordered.

  "All correct," came the response.

  But the feeling of unease didn't dissipate. The waiting was always the hardest part. Moving back from the door, he once more found himself staring at Major Carter.

  This time she was staring back.

  "Hadad!" Kenna hissed. Around him his troops started, weapons lifting. Expecting the fight. "Stand down," he growled, irritated by his own discomposure. "Man your posts."

  Reluctantly they turned away, but Kenna saw many a significant look pass between them. They'd seen the woman's eyes, they knew she lived. It shook many certainties to the core. Slowly, Kenna approached, forcing himself to hold her disturbing gaze. Help inc. Her lips moved silently, cracked and dry. Help inc. The plea was in her eyes. Louder than any voice, it spoke right into his mind. Help me!

  Sickened, he turned away. She didn't know what she asked. He was just one man, he could do nothing for her.

  You can help us! O'Neill had believed the same. But they knew nothing of Kinahhi. They knew nothing of his life, or his son's. Besides, it would soon be over. She could not last much longer, and when O'Neill and the other aliens were also in custody...

  There was nothing he could do. He was just one man.

  The city was deserted. Nothing but the occasional call of a stray seabird echoed through its streets as Teal'c followed Daniel Jackson and O'Neill through Tsapan's fading shadows. And yet he could not dislodge the sensation of eyes, peering out of the dark windows that surrounded them, watching every step they took. The feeling crept along his spine, tensing his shoulders and tightening his grip on the P90 he carried.

  Ahead of him, Daniel Jackson stopped suddenly and glanced up. He, too, could feel the danger.

  "Keep moving," hissed O'Neill. His weapon, Teal'c noted, had the safety off and was ready for use. But he did not look around, nor did he stop. Constant activity was always O'Neill's cure for emotional disturbance.

  With great effort, Daniel Jackson resumed climbing the seem ingly endless stairs. He clutched his injured arm close to his body, and Teal'c suspected that pain and exhaustion were pushing him toward the limit of endurance. Indeed, the muscles in Teal'c's own legs burned from the long trek up from the bowels of Tsapan, and his throat was parched enough to make the pools of murky water scattered through the city's streets seem as appealing as a flowing spring. Without a symbiote to counter any microbial infection, it would have been unwise to indulge - yet the need for water, food, and rest was increasingly pressing.

  Up ahead, O'Neill stopped and dropped into a crouch, raising his hand to halt them. They were approaching the top of a wide flight of stairs, above which lay the plaza in which the tel'tak was concealed.

  "We're going to be fish in a barrel crossing that courtyard," O'Neill murmured, as Teal'c and Daniel Jackson drew closer.

  "If there's anyone up there."

  O'Neill squinted at the buildings surrounding them. "Oh there's someone up there. Kenna's a fool if he hasn't got every approach staked out." He turned around to face them. "On the plus side, they don't know our ship's up there."

  "They may believe we are seeking an alternative route to rescue Major Carter," Teal'c agreed. "In which case, they will not attack until they believe themselves confident of our plan."

  "Yeah, well, once they see the ship they won't hold back," O'Neill said, returning to his scrutiny of the buildings. "We've got five minutes before-"

  A distant cry of surprise drifted through the city, as dissonant as the tolling of an alarm bell. O'Neill tensed, listening hard. No one breathed. Then Teal'c sensed movement in a window behind them and to their right. "Get down!" A red bolt of laser fire exploded into the wall inches away, spitting gravel into his face. Then another. And another. "We are discovered!"

  "Ya think?" O'Neill yelled, grabbing hold of Daniel Jackson's arm and yanking him into motion. "Get to the ship! Now!"

  As O'Neill dragged Daniel Jackson up the stairs, sheltering as much as possible against the walls of the city, Teal'c returned fire. The rattle of his P90 was satisfying, but he longed for the power of his staff weapon.

  "Damn it!" O'Neill barked, skidding to a halt at the top of the stairs and pulling Daniel Jackson down behind him. The tel'tak was in clear view - the shield had failed - and a knot of Kinahhi clustered around the entrance to one of the buildings, firing at will and cutting off their approach.

  "There are more behind us, O'Neill." Teal'c fired in short bursts down the stairs. "We cannot delay."

  "You go," O'Neill
decided. "I'll cover you. Daniel, on my six. Get the damn thing in the air, T, and come back for us."

  Teal'c appraised the cluster of Kinahhi blocking their way and exchanged a short, significant look with O'Neill. "Hold your position."

  O'Neill nodded. "Yeah. And no dawdling."

  As Daniel Jackson pulled free his zat'ni'katel, and O'Neill positioned himself against the comer of the building and raised his weapon, Teal'c prepared to run the gauntlet. "On my mark," said O'Neill, settling the weapon against his shoulder. "Three, two, one. Mark."

  Gunfire exploded. The rattle of the P90 and the electronic zing of the zat filled the air with carbite, static and ozone. Laser fire scalded through the hazy light, blasting fragments of rock and dust up into the air. And into the heart of the battle Teal'c started running...

  It was like being in two places at once. Half her mind was filled with noise - with voices and thoughts and desires and pain and joy - a flood of consciousness too huge to comprehend. It surged through her like a flood, a ceaseless flood of information too powerful for the delicate vessel of her mind. But above that, as if floating on the surface of the torrent, she somehow managed to cling to a shred of sanity. A window onto the outside world.

  Sam opened her eyes. She could see Commander Kenna staring back at her as if she were a ghost, and watched him turn away in disgust. But not disgust at what he saw, she realized - disgust at himself His thoughts were almost audible: How can I permit this?

  Startled, Sam turned her eyes away. The tormented faces of those dying in the sheh fet were all around her, but she ignored them. Instead, she studied the room, the round, windowless room. One way in, one way out, and that was guarded by a ring of soldiers braced for attack. Her lips moved, instinctively pulling toward a triumphant smile. Rescue was on its way.

  Suddenly she heard footsteps. She couldn't move her head to see where they came from, but they were running and growing louder. "Commander!" a breathless voice barked as Kenna turned to face the newcomer.

  "Report."