The Cost of Honor

by Stargate

  "You'd better ask him then. I don't know anything."

  "You know O'Neill. That is enough. We will find the answers that we seek, and if you resist..." His cruel eyes moved deliberately to where Crawford was huddled in a miserable heap against the far wall. "I know you, Major Samantha Carter," his gaze returned to her face. "I have felt your mind. You will not let another suffer in your place."

  She didn't look away, beckoning him closer with a twitch of her head. He bent nearer, eager to hear. With a smile, Sam butted him hard in the face. Koash jerked back with a cry, hands cupping his nose as blood seeped between his fingers and dripped to the floor. "Go to hell!" Sam spat, and from the corner of her eye she saw Crawford staring at her in open-mouthed shock.

  Score two for the SGC.

  By the time the ragged settlement came into view, the pale light of pre-dawn was painting a thin strip of white gold on the horizon. A scant dew had settled on the rocks and sand, and Daniel eagerly licked the moisture from his lips. At his side, Jack hobbled in silence. His face was past gray, turning almost transparent in the morning light and aging him twenty years. He hadn't spoken for hours, and Daniel wondered if he was even aware of where they were. Nothing but utter determination not to give up kept him on his feet, but even that was wearing thin. Their pace had slowed to a crawl.

  In the fragile light ahead he saw the dark shape of Teal'c silhouetted against the horizon, waiting.

  "Almost there," Daniel croaked through a dry, raw throat.

  Jack said nothing, just kept walking. And then, out of nowhere, Daniel saw people approaching all around them. Noiselessly, they materialized out of the pre-dawn gloom and he drew Jack to a halt. "Company," Daniel whispered.

  Jack lifted his head, brown eyes stark against his ashen face. His lips moved, as if he were about to speak, but no sound came out.

  "Daniel Jackson." The voice, young and strong, belonged to Atella, who approached with a glint of admiration in his eyes. "I did not believe you would make it so far." His attention turned to Jack. "This one is unwell."

  "Been worse," Jack scratched out, surprising Daniel.

  Atella nodded, as if he believed him entirely. "Come, let my men aid you now."

  Silent as shadows, two Arxanti moved in and supported Jack between them. Daniel almost staggered at the sudden loss of his weight, and Atella reached out to steady him. "I would learn more of your people, Daniel Jackson. You are brave and strong."

  Daniel mustered a smile. "I'll be happy to tell you, Atella. But first, if you have any water...?"

  "Come," Atella said, by way of an answer. "We will share what we have."

  The encampment into which they were led was an eclectic mixture of tents and crumbling buildings, a civilization built into the ruins of one much older and much greater. Tantalizing glimpses of ancient writing caught Daniel's attention as he trudged between the ragged shacks, watched the whole time by a gaggle of wideeyed, skinny children. These people were dirt-poor, scratching a subsistence out of the sand. Could they really be the dissidents so feared by Damaris and the Kinahhi? Of course, poverty bred anger, and anger bred violence. It seemed to be one of the universal constants of human history, wherever in the galaxy it was played out. A depressing thought.

  "Here," Atella said at last, stopping before one of the largest structures in the settlement. A long awning stretched out from the crumbling ruins of a building, serving as a kind of veranda beneath which Daniel could see the welcome flicker of flames and the hustle of movement. He ducked beneath the awning and found himself amid scattered carpets, blankets and cushions. A fire burned in a battered brazier that gleamed like a treasured possession. Beyond that stood the wall of the old building, its open door leading into a room brightened by a light so steady it couldn't have been natural.

  "Your friends are within," Atella told him, brushing past Daniel and leading him onward. "Come, there is water and food."

  Stepping carefully over the carpets, Daniel followed Atella into the room. It was bigger than he'd imagined, and a soft light ema nated from a strip that ran around the wall. It was oddly familiar. Electricity? How was that possible? More threadbare carpets and cushions covered the floor, but the walls were smooth. Not stone. He moved closer, to touch one. Not plaster. Almost metallic...

  "Daniel?" Jack croaked. He lay propped up on a pile of cushions next to Teal'c, waving ineffectually at one of Atella's men, who was trying to examine his blown knee. "Tell him not to touch!"

  Crossing the room, Daniel joined them. "Maybe he can help." He eased himself to the ground with a grateful sigh. God, it felt good to rest.

  Jack cast him a skeptical look. "Unless he has a shot of morphine up his sleeve, Daniel, I doubt it."

  Atella was watching them, his curious gaze darting between both men. "Fortus is a skilled healer, Jack O'Neill. Let him help you."

  "Ah, look, no offence. I just-"

  "Your prejudice against cultures different from your own does you a disservice, O'Neill," observed Teal'c. "Even among the Tauri, are there not many different forms of medicine?"

  "Sure," Jack agreed sourly. "Crystals, leeches, voodoo-dolls. Aroma-goddamn-therapy. I prefer the kind that actually works. So if you-"

  "If we are to rescue Major Carter," Teal'c cut in, "we must seek what help we can." He cast a pointed look at Jack. "Unless you are able to walk, Daniel Jackson and I will be forced to leave you here when we return to Tsapan."

  Jack was about to protest when a commotion at the door attracted all their attention. Three women entered, each carrying a tray, stepping lightly over the carpets to set their burdens on the floor. Atella bent and picked up a tall cup from one of the trays, offering it to Daniel. "Water."

  Daniel glanced over at Jack. They had no purification tabs, but it was either this or dehydration. With a shrug, Jack gave his permission and Daniel took the cup gratefully and lifted it to his lips. The water tasted pure and sweet, cool and perfect as it slid around his dry mouth and down his parched throat. He drank, and drank.

  "Not too much," Jack cautioned. "You'll make yourself sick."

  After a year on Abydos, he knew that all too well and lowered the cup. Teal'c and Jack were both taking restrained sips at drinks of their own. "Thank you," Jack said to Atella, without a hint of sarcasm.

  "Indeed," Teal'c added. "We owe you a debt of gratitude."

  Atella bowed in acknowledgement. "Our water, at least, is plentiful and pure. A gift of our ancestors. But our food..." He gestured to the few dried fruits and hard looking loaves of bread the women had provided. "You are welcome to what we have, but it is little."

  "Looks great," Jack enthused, picking up a fruit and biting into it.

  Daniel mimicked him, and the taste wasn't bad. A little musty, but sweet. Almost like dates. "It must be hard to grow food out here."

  "It is the price we pay for our freedom, Daniel Jackson," Atella replied, sitting cross-legged before them. "The Kinahhi do not trouble us here."

  "Speaking of," Jack said, taking another sip of water. "Where exactly is here?"

  "Arxantia," Atella replied. "The city of the Arxanti."

  "Yeah," Jack agreed. "And that would be how far, roughly, from Tsapan?"

  "A great distance," Atella assured him gravely. "I do not know. You would have to cross the Mibsaw Sea."

  Jack glanced over at Daniel, eyebrows raised. "Sea?"

  "I believe," said Teal'c, "that this city is located on a different continent than the city of the Kinahhi."

  "Continent?" Jack groaned. "You gotta be kidding..."

  "Teal'c is correct," said Atella. "This is not the land of the Kinahhi." He scowled suddenly and spat on the floor. "Yet they treat it as their own, plundering our heritage."

  Jack wasn't listening, his head sinking back into the cushions, one hand pressed over his eyes. "A different continent?"

  Daniel had flown over it on their arrival, the vast ruined city spread out like an ancient map and calling to him with a siren song.

&n
bsp; "I don't suppose you guys have a Stargate?" Jack asked, sitting up straight again.

  Atella looked blank.

  "Chappa'ai?" Daniel suggested.

  "I do not know these words," Atella apologized, pushing himself to his feet. "And dawn is upon us. My watch is complete, and I must rest. As must you." He glanced at them all and his gaze arrested on Jack. "Allow Fortes to treat your wounds, Jack O'Neill. Only a fool rejects aid in this land."

  Jack gave a nod, but whether it was of agreement Daniel couldn't tell. Atella seemed to take it as such, however, and with a respectful bow turned and left. "He speaks the truth, O'Neill," Teal'c observed.

  "Yeah, yeah," Jack sighed wearily, beckoning the man, Forms, over. He was of middle years, his black hair streaked with gray, and his face wise.

  "He looks like a doctor," Daniel said quietly.

  "I prefer the look of Fraiser."

  Daniel smiled but didn't answer as Fortus drew closer and crouched. From his belt, he pulled a sharp knife.

  "Whoa!" Jack yelped. "You're not chopping the damn thing off!"

  Fortes raised a curious eyebrow. "I must see your injury, friend," he said. "I need to remove the clothing on your leg."

  "Oh." Jack cleared his throat and relaxed slightly. "I see. Okay."

  With a nod, Fortus sliced the fabric of Jack's BDUs. Daniel winced at the sight of the swollen, purpling knee. "Ouch."

  "Yeah," Jack agreed. "Look, if you can strap it or something. Trust me, I've done this before, it's gonna need surgery and-"

  Fortus touched Jack's leg with a light finger. "There will be some pain," he said after a moment. "But I can cure this wound." He looked up. "If you will permit me."

  "Cure?" Jack cast Daniel a what-the-hell-does-he-mean? look.

  "How?" Daniel asked curiously, casting half a glance up at the weird lighting in the room. Why did it seem so familiar?

  Fortus rose and moved to the back of the room. Another light suddenly switched on, illuminating a narrow alcove where Daniel glimpsed a square box with something glowing in its center. Then Fortus obscured his view, withdrawing a dull silver disk from above the box. He hefted it in one hand and turned back toward them. The light in the alcove shut off, hiding what lay within. "The remem cures many wounds, if the eye of the healer can understand the injury," he said, moving back to Jack's side. He held the disk out, strong fingers gripping its rim. A soft violet light began to glow at its heart and he turned to Teal'c. "Restrain your friend."

  "What?"

  Teal'c placed a firm hand on Jack's shoulder.

  "Hey!"

  "All will be well, O'Neill."

  "Yeah, I- Ow!" As the violet light touched his knee, Jack arched back against the cushions, biting off a scream. "Holy crap," he hissed. "Oh, God..."

  Daniel's eyes widened. "Look at that..." The brutal swelling was receding, even the scars from previous injuries seemed to fade.

  A sweat of concentration stood on Fortus's brow. Finally, with a gasp, he withdrew the device and sagged back on his haunches. He was breathless. "You drew much power," he said after a moment. "More than-"

  "He has lost consciousness," Teal'c said, studying Jack's slack features with guarded concern.

  Fortes nodded. "This is to be expected. He will sleep and feel better for it." He turned to Daniel, head tilting to one side. "And now, your shoulder...?"

  Ah.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  he sand glistened in the morning heat, a heat Commander Ebrum Kenna could already feel through the walls of the aging transport ship. But he ignored the discomfort, satisfied at what he saw below. Tracks in the sand, from the impact of three smooth capsules that lay cracked like the discarded eggs of some giant bird.

  "This is it," he told the pilot. "Land here."

  The ship dropped smoothly, and the capsules grew larger until Kenna could see the ornate designs they bore, oddly reminiscent of Tsapan. Where had O'Neill acquired such technology? The answer would have to wait. For now the Commander's single objective was to capture his prey and secure the freedom of his son. His men were ready, armed and alert. Although the search had been protracted, and dawn had long since crested the horizon, they showed no weariness. They knew better than to dare.

  With a barely perceptible bump the transport landed and its door slid open. Hot, dry air hovered on the threshold, barely beaten back by the ship's cooling system. "Secure the area," Kenna ordered, "and report any evidence of what has occurred here. But stay alert. This is Mahr'bal country, every fold in the land may conceal the enemy." He met the reserved, neutral gaze of his men with pride. These Tauri, with their overt feelings and passions, would be no match for the stoicism of the Kinahhi. He nodded his approval. "Move out."

  The sun had reached its zenith, its brilliance magnified by the wide, white ruins that spread across the desert as far as Teal'c could see. Heat shimmered between them, reflecting up from the ground in waves.

  At his side, Daniel Jackson mopped at his brow with his sleeve. "Hot," he murmured, unnecessarily.

  "Indeed."

  They walked together, following in the eager footsteps of For tus. Teal'c's hand moved to the wound in his leg, now no more than a ragged slice through his clothing. Daniel Jackson, rotating his formerly injured shoulder as if for the simple pleasure of the movement, was equally well healed. And pleased with the result.

  Neither of them had slept long after the intense - and admittedly painful - process, but their wounds had been superficial. O'Neill, however, still slept. The knee and arm wounds, Teal'c suspected, were not the only injuries O'Neill had sustained - who knew what damage the sheh fet had inflicted? O'Neill had volunteered no information.

  Teal'c was still uneasy with his choice to leave O'Neill alone and sleeping amid an untried people, but he had been reluctant to wake him when Forms had returned to their room, with an urgent summons for Daniel Jackson to meet with their tribal shaman.

  "She can tell you of your friend, of Sa'mantha Kah'tur " Fortus had insisted.

  Teal'c had sensed no malicious intent from the Arxanti, nothing to make him suspect them. If he was mistaken, the blame would follow him to his grave. But he believed O'Neill would have wished him to accompany Daniel Jackson, to glean what they could of Major Carter's situation.

  "Here," said Fortes, stopping abruptly and indicating a steep trail that lead underground. "Alvita Candra is within."

  Teal'c eyed the entrance dubiously. "This dwelling does not appear entirely stable, Daniel Jackson."

  His friend laughed. "What does around here, Teal'c?"

  "You will come to no harm," Fortus assured them. "There is no danger of collapse, or we would not permit Alvita Candra to reside here."

  Daniel Jackson clasped the man's arm. "Thank you," he said. "Ah...is there anything we should know before we meet her? Any sign of respect we should make?"

  "None but the common courtesy you would extend to the seers of your own people, Daniel."

  He nodded gravely and said, "Right. Let's, ah, go."

  With their boots slip-sliding on loose sand and gravel, Teal'c followed Daniel Jackson as he scrambled down and into the blessedly cool shade below. A large stone lintel marked the mouth of a short tunnel, seeming murky after the sun's glare. As they walked through it, Daniel Jackson reached out to touch a pattern on one of the walls. "There's art here," he murmured. "Quite sophisticated."

  "This would not be the first great civilization to have been destroyed by the Goa'uld," Teal'c observed.

  "True," Daniel Jackson agreed, "but-" He stopped as they reached the end of the tunnel. Before them opened a round room, lit by shafts of sunlight that lanced through cracks in the ceiling and cast jagged spots of light on the sandy floor. Dust motes danced and all was quiet.

  Daniel Jackson stepped into the room, Teal'c on his heel. After a moment, he spoke. "Hello? I'm Daniel."

  "Daniel Jackson?" A young woman's voice drifted from among the shadows and sunlight. "You are as I have seen you."

&nbs
p; Teal'c turned toward the sound and saw a lean girl emerge from the edges of the room. Her mass of hair hung in broken curls, falling all around her shoulders and partly obscuring her face. But beneath her wild mane he saw bright, intelligent eyes, and they were fixed on Daniel Jackson with an expression of awe and reverence.

  "Have you come to fulfill the prophesy?"

  "Ah... The prophesy?" Daniel Jackson cleared his throat and threw a helpless look at Teal'c. He had no answer.

  "To lead the Arxanti out of the desert, and to lay low our enemy."

  "Oh." Daniel Jackson grimaced, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry, whoever you're expecting, it's not me. I-"

  "But you have walked with the Angels!" Alvita Candra exclaimed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. The face beneath was beautiful and fiery. "I have seen it."

  "Angels?" Daniel Jackson shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

  Alvita Candra regarded him carefully, her disappointment clear. "The spirits of our ancestors, Daniel Jackson." After a moment, she turned her back on him and walked away. "Come. I will show you."

  They followed, weaving in and out of the shafts of sunlight until they stood in the shadows at the back of the room. Alvita Candra lifted her hand, and a polished dome the size of a table appeared out of the darkness. "A gift of the ancestors," she said softly. "The auspicium. Through it, the past, present and future of my people can be seen. Watch."

  Under her touch, the surface of the dome misted and cleared. Within, as though modeled to perfection, Teal'c saw a vast, gleaming city of white and gold, rising up from the blossoming desert and glittering in the morning sun.

  "Beautiful." Daniel Jackson's eyes were wide as he bent to look more closely.

  "Arxantia," Alvita Candra breathed, proud and sad. "As our ancestors knew it." She waved her hand over the device again and the city collapsed before their eyes, the flash-fire of staff cannons crumpling its towers and decimating its gleaming boulevards.

  "Baal," Teal'c hissed.

  "The gods of the Kinahhi were cruel," Alvita Candra said. "But not so cruel as their people."