The Cost of Honor

by Stargate

  The image shifted. The city lay in ruins, as they saw it now, victim to the encroaching desert. Within its walls Teal'c saw people move, a ragged, starving army colliding with the military might of the gray-clad Kinahhi. A massacre.

  "There were too many of us, said the Kinahhi. They could not feed us, could not admit us to their world. And so they left us to die here, among the ruins of our city, even as they stole the gifts our ancestors had left behind. We fought them, but their gods had left them powerful weapons of destruction and we had nothing but the fire in our hearts."

  Alvita Candra moved her hand once more, and the image faded to a steady violet gleam. She lifted her chin. "But we did not die. We remain, and we grow strong. Our ancestors gifted us with pure water, that we may live and grow what little food we can. And we endure, waiting for the day the Angels will return and lead us out of the desert."

  Daniel Jackson rose. "I'm sorry," he said. "For what's happened to your people. But I'm not who you want me to be. I'm not one of your ancestors or-"

  "I have seen your mind, Daniel Jackson," Alvita Candra insisted. "I know what you are."

  He frowned. "I'm sorry, I think you're mistaken. You can't have-"

  "You passed through the sheh fet in Kinahhi, did you not?"

  He frowned. "I- Yes. Yes, I did. How do you know that?"

  Alvita Candra smiled. "What the Kinahhi call the sheh fet once belonged to my people. Our enemy stole it, and now twist it to their own purpose. But they do not know that with the auspicium we can see into its very heart. Thus, I saw your mind and know that you have walked among the Angels."

  "And you can see Sam?" Daniel Jackson asked. "Samantha Carter, our friend."

  Alvita Candra's face grew solemn. "I have seen her. But she is lost to me now."

  Lost? Teal'c felt a sudden pain in his chest, grief denied. It could not be. "Lost, how?" he asked, his first words to the woman.

  She turned her bright eyes on him. "I do not know, Teal'c of the Jaffa. Her mind is no longer within the sheh fet. I can say no more than that."

  "Then I choose to believe that she yet lives."

  Alvita Candra bowed her head. "A wise choice, ancient one."

  Daniel Jackson cleared his throat, in a transparent attempt to hide his sudden amusement. "Can I," he said, covering his lack of decorum. "Can I use it?" He was gazing at the auspicium as if it were an oasis. "Perhaps I could try to find Sam, to communicate with her?"

  "You may try." Alvita Candra appeared curious, as if testing a theory. It made Teal'c nervous. "Touch the auspicium and open your mind."

  Daniel Jackson reached out gingerly, as if expecting a trick, and touched the shimmering dome. There was no sizzle of a force shield to throw him across the room - all that occurred was the slow fading of the dome's light. "What happened?" His friend's disappointment was obvious.

  "Only the Arxanti are able to use such gifts, Daniel Jackson. They are intended for us alone." She ran her hand over the surface of the dome, reigniting its light. "Even when the Kinahhi steal them and pervert them to their own purpose, they can never truly understand the gifts of the Ancients."

  A beat of silence followed her last word. Daniel Jackson blinked, jaw dropping slightly. "Ah, I'm sorry, did you say Ancients?"

  Alvita Candra smiled. "The Ancients, yes. Our ancestors."

  Daniel Jackson exchanged a startled glance with Teal'c and looked back at the softly glowing device in sudden understanding. "Arxantia," he breathed, as if a thousand jigsaw pieces were slipping into place all at once. "Latin-based. Or, rather, Ancientbased. Arx, fortress, antiquus - ancient. Arxantiqua, or, with a little allophonic shift, Arxantia. Ancient Fortress."

  Teal'c lifted an eyebrow. "This is most significant, Daniel Jackson."

  Alvita Candra smiled in triumph. "Then you do know of the Angels! The spirits of our ancestors. I knew the auspicium could not be wrong."

  Daniel Jackson was thoughtful. "We call them the Ancients," he said quietly. "And, uh, yeah. I know a little about them."

  "You have walked among them," Alvita Candra insisted, darting around the auspicium and seizing Daniel Jackson by both hands. "And you have come from beyond the stars, to fulfill the prophesy."

  "I_„

  "I have seen it!" Her mass of curls shrouded her face as she bent to kiss his hands. "You will lead us out of the desert, and bring truth to our enemy. My people have waited generations for your arrival, Daniel Jackson. You cannot abandon us."

  Daniel Jackson just stared at Teal'c over the top of her head. Teal'c could see the conflict his friend felt, his desire to help these people warring with the more pressing need to return to the SGC. And to save Major Carter.

  Help' Daniel Jackson pleaded voicelessly. But Teal'c had no aid nor answer to offer.

  Jack woke slowly, drifting up from a deep and restful sleep into a leaden body that felt as though it hadn't moved for hours. He blinked in the bright sunlight that sliced through the doorway and raised a heavy hand to rub his eyes. Gradually, he became aware of voices chattering away, one in particular sounding extremely animated. And extremely familiar.

  Pushing himself upright, he saw Daniel sitting not far from him in deep conversation with Atella and the Doc, Fortus. Daniel was gesturing like some kind of mad conductor with an orchestra on the loose and-

  Gesturing. With both arms?

  Jack studied his blown knee, realizing his leg lay perfectly straight. Tentatively he tried to bend it. No pain. None whatsoever. And that probably hadn't happened once in the last five years. His arm, too, felt fine. The skin beneath the ripped sleeve of his shirt was smooth and unbroken. There wasn't even a scar.

  He felt a presence beside him, and looked up to see Teal'c crouch at his side. "You are well rested, O'Neill."

  "Yeah." He indicated Teal'c's wounded leg. "You too?"

  The Jaffa nodded. "The Arxanti possess technology of great power."

  "Yeah, I'm getting that." He yawned, and glanced over at Daniel. "What's going on there?"

  The slight lift of one eyebrow gave away Teal'c's affectionate amusement. "Daniel Jackson has made a discovery of great importance."

  "What discovery?"

  "I believe he would wish to tell you himself."

  "Does it get us outta here?"

  Teal'c sobered and stood up. "Perhaps"

  Perhaps was better than `no' at least. With a grunt of effort Jack pushed himself to his feet, silently marveling at the lack of complaint from his knees. Or his back. All in all, he felt better than he had in a good long time. Which only made his memory of Carter, trapped in that brain-sucking torture device, that much more painful. He checked his watch and grimaced. He must have slept the whole day. "Daniel!"

  His friend turned, beckoning to him from across the room. "Jack. You won't believe this. Come here."

  "I shall scout the area, O'Neill," Teal'c offered quickly, eyeing the door with obvious desire. "Before the sun sets."

  Jack nodded his agreement. But impatience was pounding in the back of his mind, like a headache waiting to pounce. How long had they left her there? Would there be anything left to rescue? His instinct was to just act, to do something - anything! But he kept it in check. Forcing himself to relax, to look for opportunities even in the most unlikely places, he stepped over the ragged carpets and approached Daniel. "Teal'c said you found something."

  "Oh yeah," Daniel grinned enthusiastically. "This is incredible, Jack. This whole place is...it's an ancient city. As in Ancient city."

  "As in the glowing octopus variety?"

  A flicker of irritation crossed Daniel's face. "No. Older, before they ascended." He pointed at the wall. "Look at that, the lights - the whole city. They have technology, Ancient technology. Like the healing device." Suddenly Daniel was on his feet, grabbing Jack's arm and dragging him across the room. "Look, check this out. It's a little hard to see, but I think you'll recognize it."

  With a frown, Jack peered into the dark alcove at the back of the room. "What? In h
ere?"

  "Just look."

  He leaned closer. A bright light came on inside the alcove, illuminating a large, square box. Familiarity nagged at the back of his mind, and not in a good way. "Daniel, tell me this isn't a zombie machine."

  There was no answer, and when he turned his head Daniel was staring at him in astonishment. "What?"

  "Do that again."

  "Do what again?"

  "That. With the light."

  Jack straightened, glancing up at the light. It switched off. "What thing?"

  "That thing."

  "I didn't do anything."

  "Move closer again," Daniel urged, pushing him forward. "Closer to the alcove."

  With an impatient sigh he leaned in, and, sure enough, the light came on. "Sweet. A motion detector. You know, I once knew a guy who had these things installed in his apartment, and if you were sitting watching the game you'd have to keep waving at the ceiling to stop the lights from-"

  "It's not a motion detector," Daniel interrupted. "At least, it doesn't work for me. Or Teal'c. The Arxanti say only they can use the `gifts of the Ancients' because..."

  "Because?" Jack stepped back from the alcove and the light switched off.

  "Because they believe they're descended from the Ancients."

  Oh please. "Yeah, well," Jack muttered, "as far as I know none of my grandparents glowed in the dark. Must be a coincidence." He squinted back at the alcove. "You didn't answer my question about the zombie machine."

  Daniel was still looking at him oddly, but after a moment he collected his thoughts and began to babble excitedly. "Oh, yeah. You're right, it looks exactly the same as the healing device Dr. Lee and I found in Honduras. Only," he tapped at the alcove with one finger and a fizz of blue energy scattered through the air in front of them, "it's shielded, to prevent it's, ah, more negative effects from damaging the population."

  "How reassuring." Jack lowered his voice and hissed, "Daniel, the last time we came across one of those things you were nearly scalped by a dead guy!"

  "It's what cured us, Jack," Daniel said. "It's what keeps these people alive out here. According to Alvita Candra-"

  "Who?"

  Daniel waved an impatient hand. "Alvita Candra. Their seer, wise-woman."

  Old crone, in other words. "Right."

  "According to her, the Kinahhi refuse to allow them to leave the continent. There seems to have been some kind of conflict, perhaps an uprising, a generation or so ago. The Kinahhi erected something they call the Cordon - ah, imagine the Berlin wall only a hundred times longer - and since then the Arxanti haven't been allowed to leave. They're trapped, Jack." He lowered his voice. "You've seen what it's like out there. This climate... Even with the healing device, their people are dying. There's hardly any food, no infrastructure... And we've seen how the Kinahhi live."

  "That's rough," Jack agreed. But it wasn't his concern. "This... Cordon? It's manned by the Kinahhi?"

  With a frown, Daniel nodded. "Yeah, of course."

  "How far is it?"

  "I don't know. Why?"

  Why? "Because if the Kinahhi are there, then they have transport. And we need to get outta here and back to Tsapan, and then-"

  "Jack!" Daniel protested. "We can't just walk away from this."

  Oh, here we go... "From what, Daniel?"

  "From what's going on here."

  "And what's that? Exactly?"

  "Genocide."

  Jack turned away. "It's not our war, Daniel."

  "But they're dying!" Daniel grabbed his sleeve, yanking him to a stop. "Come on, Jack, how can you even-"

  "O'Neill!" Teal'c's voice boomed from the doorway.

  It sounded like trouble. "What you got?"

  "Kinahhi soldiers," Teal'c reported. "At least fifty, well armed."

  Atella and Fortes were on their feet, agile as cats. "Take the women and children to the sanctum," Atella ordered, and with a nod Fortes slipped away. Atella's eyes came to rest on Daniel. "The Kinahhi have never ventured so deep into Arxantia in my lifetime."

  "They're after us." Jack stepped forward, flinging a look at Daniel, who was watching him expectantly. It's not our war. Except now they were dragging Atella's people into their own squabble with the Kinahhi. It sucked.

  "We cannot allow them to capture us, O'Neill," warned Teal'c, as if guessing the path of Jack's thoughts. "Everything depends upon our returning to the SGC."

  "I know." He looked at Atella, not much more than a kid wrapped in rags, with a belly full of anger fueled by a lifetime of oppression. It felt like exploitation. "Your men ready to fight?"

  There was an eager light in the kid's eyes. "We have prayed for the chance to spill the blood of our enemy," he said. "Today will be glorious."

  Like hell. "Get them ready," Jack said. "And tell them to do exactly what I say."

  Atella nodded and ran from the room, leaving Jack alone with his team. "For the record," he said, stalking toward their small pile of weapons, "I'm not happy about this."

  "The desire for freedom burns bright in all men, O'Neill," Teal'c told him, retrieving his P90. "They want to fight."

  "They're kids," Jack replied, as he holstered a zat. "They have no idea what they're doing."

  "Do not be so sure." Teal'c fixed Jack with a pointed look. "They know what it is to be enslaved. More so than you, O'Neill. They know the value of freedom."

  "And they have a right to fight for it," Daniel added.

  Jack slung the stolen Kinahhi weapon over his shoulder with a grunt. "They're going to die for it too," he said bluntly. "And not just them. You think Damaris and her crew will let them get away with this? The tanks will be rolling in before they've buried their dead. Believe me."

  Daniel opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment Atella appeared again in the doorway. "O'Neill, they come."

  With a final glance at his friends, Jack led them out into the long shadows of dusk, unable to shake the feeling that he was about to fire the first shot in a war.

  In the flat desert, there was little in the way of cover for Commander Kenna's men. He had scouts ranging ahead and to each side, to warn of the enemy's approach, but despite that he felt the silence like a weight around his neck as his phalanx of soldiers marched through the decaying streets of Arxantia.

  Some said the city was haunted by the ghosts of its former denizens, that the very ground had been poisoned by death and turned into the wasteland upon which he now trod. But the Commander did not deal in superstition, he dealt in facts. In this case, the facts were that the tracks of O'Neill and his two accomplices led right into the heart of Arxantia, apparently following behind a small troop of the Mahr'bal. It was equally apparent that at least one of the Tauri was severely injured.

  Good, he told himself. And yet... Despite everything, he felt a niggling respect. To trail O'Neill like a pack of dogs trailed wounded prey somehow seemed undignified. Kenna would have preferred a fairer fight rather than a-

  "Commander." Chief Officer Lahat was pointing toward one of the returning scouts, climbing up a ridge that had obscured their view of what lay beyond. With a lift of his hand, Kenna stopped his men and waited.

  "Contact, sir," the scout reported with a salute. "A shantytown. Straight ahead. The Tauri tracks lead right into it."

  Wounded prey seeking safety. Kenna found himself unexpectedly disturbed by the image, and dismissed the scout with a curt nod. Then he turned to Lahat. "Surround the village. Enter on my mark. And, remember, the Tauri are to be captured alive."

  "Yes, sir." The Chief saluted and moved away. Behind him, Kenna saw his men fan out to either side, moving watchfully through the ruins of the ancient city. He advanced with them, dropping low as he crested the rise. In a shallow bowl of a valley, lay the shabby encampment. It nestled against some of the more intact structures in the city. He saw no movement among the flapping fabric of the tents, and guessed that their approach had been detected.

  Are you there, O'Neill? Are you injured? Are you
rallying this tattered army against us? There would be no escape this time. The sticks and stones of the Mahr'bal would be no match for the Kinahhi army, even with O'Neill at their head.

  At a signal from Lahat he knew his men were in position. Kenna answered for them to hold fast; they would wait until nightfall and then descend like the thunder of Re'ammin himself to claim their prize.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  strap held Sam's head tight against the back of the chair, and on either side of her stood a black-robed figure. Mib'khaue The name came to her unbidden - the Chosen. Chosen to serve the Kaw'ree. Although she couldn't move her head she could see a glint of silver, the lethal curve of a blade stark against black velvet robes. Security, or sacrifice?

  Her attention shifted to the man standing before her. Koash. His nose was swollen and bloody, probably broken, and he glared at her with eyes as sharp as the dagger held by the Mib'khaur. "If you will act like an animal," he told her coldly, "then you will be treated as such."

  Sam snorted a humorless laugh. "You mean worse than being stuck in the sheh fet? Where I come from, we don't even treat animals like that."

  Koash's gaze drifted to Crawford, who still sat hunched against the wall. "And yet you would condemn this man to such treatment?"

  "He's the reason we're here," she said flatly, refusing to feel guilty. If anyone deserved that fate... No one does, a treacherous voice whispered. Not even him.

  Koash smiled, a thin stretch of his lips, as if he'd heard the murmuring of her conscience. He probably had. "Let us see." He moved closer, lifting icy fingertips to her temples. "Let us see the truth you hide about the Mahr'bal, and your people."

  "There is no truth about-" She gasped. A sensation like cold maggots crawled under her skin, something hard slammed into her mind and strong, merciless hands gripped each side of her head.

  Obey, a voice hissed inside her head. Let inc in.

  She bucked in the chair, but the grip on her mind only grew stronger. Crushing her. It shook her physically, and then another vicious blow knocked her sideways until she lay sprawled on the floor.

  A figure stood over her, cloaked and featureless. Death?