The Cost of Honor

by Stargate

  Holy crap!

  "I believe your assessment is correct, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c observed. "We are in trouble."

  "I'll say," Carter agreed.

  Jack just sighed. "Someone tell me we didn't park down there."

  Below them, the ocean gushed into the cockeyed streets and alleyways, churning wildly, battering the city and its once elegant spires.

  Tsapan was drowning.

  The door to the Kinahhi gate-room was no more than a shattered hole, twice as wide as it once had been, and blackened by the smoke that hung thick in the air.

  Hammond counted ten of his men down - at least eight were dead - and the Kinahhi were massing outside for the final push. Only one of the two huge Kinahhi cannons was still in use, manned now by Dave Dixon, whose left arm was tightly bandaged. Hammond himself was crouched behind the DHD with Henry Boyd, the C4 strapped to the device only inches away from his hand. The light on the detonator was flashing, a relentless reminder of his last resort. He was running out of options.

  "We can't hold it much longer, sir," Boyd said. He looked exhausted; they all did. "If General Woodburn hasn't sorted things out back home by now..."

  If he hadn't, none of them would be going home. "We wait for the signal," Hammond said. "If he's failed, then we have a job to do here."

  "Yes, sir." Boyd's eyes moved to the C4. He was thinking of his daughter no doubt. Perhaps regretting his decision to volunteer for this suicide mission.

  "It's not over yet, son."

  "No, sir."

  "General!" Dixon yelled from behind the Kinahhi cannon, shifting it to his right as the muzzle of a huge weapon nosed through the shattered doorway. "Incoming!" He opened fire, just as a massive bolt of white heat blasted into the room. The inferno seared the air, sizzling around the Stargate like scalding mist. Even flat against the floor where he'd thrown himself, the air was hot enough to scorch Hammond's lungs. "Boyd," he croaked through an and throat, "the C4..."

  Blisters scarring the side of the young man's face, he levered himself up above the DHD. Dixon was still firing, and someone was screaming in agony. Another blast from the hellish cannon tossed Boyd back to the ground, hair smoking, just as a familiar clunk cut through the heat and noise. Then another. The Stargate was dialing.

  "Hold your positions!" shouted Hammond. This could be it - this could be the sign they'd been waiting for. Or it could herald the end. If Woodburn had failed...

  Another blast of white heat flamed through the air, licking around the edges of the DHD. But the gate kept spinning. Faster now, chevron after chevron locking, until at last, like a wild cheer, the event horizon erupted into the room. Hammond held his breath, staring at the rippling surface. It shivered, and a MALP crawled out. While the battle raged on, it turned its dead gaze on Hammond. He stared back and prayed to God that he was being watched by a friendly eye.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  he lower levels must be filling with water, tipping us like a boat," Daniel shouted over the noise of the waves smashing through the city. "Good job we're not stuck below-deck."

  Jack grunted his agreement. "Yeah, I've seen Titanic."

  "Really? You've seen Titanic?"

  "Why not?"

  "Well, I just-"

  "O'Neill," Teal'c cut in. "If we do not reach the landing platform soon, all the Kinahhi ships will have slipped into the ocean."

  "Yeah." There was a slight hesitation before Jack answered, so small you might miss it. "Yeah, you're right, Teal'c. We gotta get outta here."

  But Daniel had spent his career observing people, and he knew Jack O'Neill inside out. He was hiding something. Turning, Jack braced himself between the stub of a wall and the semi-vertical floor and yelled across the plaza to Kenna. The Kinahhi commander, his son in tow, climbed toward them. He looked shaken, and Daniel wasn't surprised. Within twenty-four hours Kenna had rebelled against his leaders, and now was watching the icon of their security state sink into the ocean. His world was literally falling apart. Under the circumstances, he was doing a good job of holding it together.

  Jack had a smile for the kid. "Quite a ride, huh?"

  Wide-eyed, the boy just nodded, and Jack reached out to ruffle his hair. But his attention had turned to the father. "How far to the nearest landing platform?"

  Kenna blew out a shaky breath. "Not far. Well... It wasn't far. If we can get up the west stairway..." He paused, thinking. "At this angle, it should be possible."

  "You'll find it," Jack said. Then he nodded toward Sam, who was perched on the parapet frowning up at the tilting city. Probably calculating how fast it would sink. "Carter's in charge and-"

  "Ah, Jack...?"

  "Daniel?"

  Here it was, whatever the hell Jack had been hiding since he'd leaped out of the Kaw'ree chair. "Sams in charge?"

  "Sir?" Sam dropped down from the parapet, confused. At her side, Teal'c's disapproval was evident.

  "You're in command, Major." Jack didn't look at any of them, shaking water from his Kinahhi weapon. If the thing fired, it would be a miracle. "These are your orders. Take the team to the landing platform, ASAP, and evacuate as many people as possible. Get back to the gate, and get the hell off this world. Understood?"

  She frowned, tight-lipped. "Yes, sir. But what about you?"

  "Something I gotta do. I'll try to rendezvous later." He looked up then, fixing her with a hard stare that eventually extended to Daniel and Teal'c. "Don't wait for me."

  "Jack, what are you doing? The whole city is sinking!"

  "Yeah. Noticed that, Daniel."

  "I will accompany you, O'Neill," Teal'c volunteered. "You cannot go alone."

  But Jack shook his head. "Nope. One man op, T. This is my-" He snorted derisively. "My debt to pay."

  Debt? "Jack... Come on, what's going on?"

  But Sam gasped softly. "Crawford."

  "He's here?"

  "He was in the tower," said Sam. "Koash threatened him when I wouldn't cooperate. But after I escaped, I don't know where he-"

  "I saw him." Jack raised his sodden rifle and attempted to fire. Nothing happened. He discarded it in disgust. "I saw him in the sheh fet."

  So that's what he'd been hiding. Crawford was a prisoner here, just like them.

  Sam closed her eyes, saying nothing.

  "It is because of Crawford that you were brought here, O'Neill," Teal'c said coldly. "You owe him nothing. He would have seen both you and Major Carter dead. Leave him to the fate he deserves. He would offer you no mercy."

  Jack shrugged. "That's not the point. Anyway, you're wrong. I'm here - we're all here - because I accepted those damn plans from Quadesh and-"

  "It was a setup!" Daniel protested. "Come on, Jack, it was a trap."

  "And I should have damn well known better than to take the bait!"

  Daniel grunted angrily. "So this a pride thing? You made one mistake, Jack. Live with it. It's not worth dying for."

  "One mistake? I almost got you all killed, Daniel! I destroyed SG-1, I lied to Hammond, cost him his goddamn job. And I -" He sucked in a deep, angry breath. "And I sent Crawford here. I set him up first, remember?"

  "Colonel, Crawford tried to have us killed!" Sam argued hotly. "The plans for the anti-gray device were designed to fail. He doesn't deserve anyone's loyalty."

  "And he doesn't deserve to drown in that stinking hole, either."

  "Better him than you, sir."

  Sam's words hung in an uncomfortable silence, and the unhappy glance Jack flung at her held for a moment too long before he turned away. Nothing could bend his resolve, it seemed. "You have your orders, Major."

  "Yes, sir."

  With a serious parting look he left, adeptly climbing across the scree of rubble on the steep plaza.

  "The tower of the Kaw'ree is the tallest, O'Neill!" Teal'c called out as Jack reached the top. "It will be the last to sink!"

  Jack acknowledged the advice with a wave, then dropped down out of sight.

  "I'm telling you," Sam
growled, "if he brings Crawford back alive, I'm first in line to kick his ass."

  Daniel cast her a wry glance. "Crawford's, or Jack's?"

  Her eyes narrowed. "Both."

  Moments after the MALP appeared through the Stargate, the Kinahhi gate-room fell silent. Like Hammond, the Kinahhi were waiting to see which shoe was about to drop. Burned air scoured his throat, making him cough as he pushed himself upright. Boyd moved to join him, but he gestured for the man to stay down. Major General George Hammond would meet his fate on his feet, but there was no need for the rest of his team to risk themselves.

  Smoke swirled in the iridescence of the open gate, and even the suffering of the wounded seemed muted beneath the weight of expectation. At last the event horizon shivered. Hammond braced himself, shoulders squared, as Colonel Reynolds of SG-2 stepped out, weapon at the ready. The rest of his team emerged on either side and at an unspoken signal stalked warily down the stairs. Reynolds stopped in front of Hammond, eyeing the smoking ruins of the gate-room. "Sir."

  Hammond gave a brief, careful nod. "Colonel."

  "General Woodburn sends his regards, sir, and asks if you need a hand."

  Yes! Had decorum permitted, he'd have leaped for joy. As it was, Hammond satisfied himself with a jubilant grin. "All the help we can get, Colonel."

  On cue, the great muzzle of the Kinahhi weapon shifted.

  "Get down!" A blast of fire lashed the room, but Reynolds was on his radio, and moments later men started pouring through the gate. Marines, ducking and rolling as they surged down the steps, their gunfire rattling through the toxic heat of the gate-room. The tide was turning! With a whoop of triumph, Dave Dixon led the charge toward the door.

  And behind the Marines arrived the unsung heroes of the SGC - the field medics, Dr. Janet Fraiser in the lead.

  By the time they reached the landing platform, the city was tilting so hard that the massive ships were sliding across the pavement, impacting with each other and the buildings that lined the plaza.

  Sam squinted up at the towers tilting at crazy angles and groaning under their own weight. How long until one of them snapped, burying them all?

  Around her the Outcast cowered, staring up at the distorted, creaking city in fear. She wondered if they understood what was happening, if their minds were still capable of such thought after the abuse they'd suffered. Eytan, never far from her side, grabbed her sleeve and pointed toward the Kinahhi soldiers scrambling around on the skewed landing platform.

  "Soon," she told him. "We need a plan first." Glancing over her shoulder, she beckoned Teal'c closer with a nod. "Any ideas?"

  He moved to her side, peeking up over the top of the stairway. Or ladder. At this angle, it had been an almost impossible climb. "On the far side," he said immediately. "The largest ship is the only one sufficient to hold all our number."

  Sam nodded. "There's a lot of firepower between us and it."

  "Indeed." His eyes drifted to the Outcast, and then to the remainder of the Arxanti, gathered around Daniel. "But we are not without force." The city jolted and below them something enormous smashed into the sea, sending up a fountain of water that spattered them all like rain. "We do not have the time to attempt to circumnavigate the platform," Teal'c observed.

  "No." The city was sinking faster than she'd imagined, threatening to pitch them all into the ocean as its guts filled with water. She tried not to think about the Colonel trapped down there, and silently cursed his stubborn, implacable drive to do the right thing, whatever the cost. "We're just going to have to rush them," she decided, glancing at Teal'c for confirmation.

  He inclined his head in silent approval.

  "Stay close to Daniel," she said quietly. "And don't stop for anything."

  "Once we are in the air," Teal'c said, "we will be able to search the area for survivors."

  He meant the Colonel, and she smiled gratefully at his optimism. "Yeah. Let's get to the ship."

  In a few murmured words, Sam gave the orders. Teal'c climbed closer to Daniel, who was in whispered conversation with Alvita Candra and Atella. Quick and agile, the Arxanti had little problem scrambling over the sinking city. And they seemed devoted to Daniel. He looked up and met Sam's gaze with a half smile and a squint. Without his glasses he was at a serious disadvantage in the upcoming battle. He hadn't mentioned the problem, of course, but then Daniel never would.

  Teal'c gave a nod. They were ready. Sam turned to Kenna, off to her left, and got the same answer. Ready.

  The large ship stood on the far side of the platform, crushed against one of the towers. A hundred meters away. The city quaked again, and far above them the leaning tower groaned and shuddered. There was no more time. "On my mark," she said, loud enough for all to hear. "Three, two, one." She glanced at Eytan and nodded. "Mark!"

  As one, they poured onto the landing platform and began to run. They'd gotten almost halfway across before the panicking Kinahhi soldiers noticed and opened fire - then people started dying.

  Up to his chest in icy water, Jack pushed through the dark corridors. The tang of seawater did little to wash away the stink of the sheh fet, but that was the least of his concerns. With every shudder and jerk of the city, he expected a surge of water to swamp the corridor and trap him forever.

  Goddamn idiot, he growled at himself. Teal'c had been right. So had Carter. Crawford didn't deserve his loyalty.

  But it wasn't Crawford who filled his mind as he waded through the stinking tunnel. It was Hammond.

  `I defended you, Jack. When Ambassador Crawford accused you, I said it was impossible. I told him that we didn't operate that way. "

  "Szr

  "I trusted you!"

  Truth was, he couldn't go back. One mistake, Daniel had called it, but Jack knew better. It was just the last mistake in a long list. He should never have taken the plans, never have set up Crawford, never have lied to Hammond and never have involved his team in an unsanctioned mission. And all because of what? Because he'd spent a decade hating Frank Cromwell for leaving him behind, and couldn't live with the fact that he'd done the exact same damn thing to Henry Boyd. So he'd ended up lying to his CO and destroying SG-1 just to ease his guilty conscience.

  A better man would have made the decision and lived with the consequences. A man like Cromwell. But Jack O'Neill had never been a better man, despite what Daniel might think, and this time he'd proven it. He'd dragged his friends into the stinking quagmire of his self-recrimination and destroyed everything he most cared about.

  But if he could save Crawford, if he could use the man to prove exactly what the Kinahhi had been planning, then perhaps he could save his team from Kinsey's clutches. Crawford was the bargaining chip, his knowledge could muzzle the Senator and save SG-1 - even if Jack O'Neill was beyond redemption.

  So he pushed on through the darkness, listening and hoping for a miracle.

  Daniel dodged the hail of gunfire, squinting myopically into the smoke. Alvita Candra was at his side, Teal'c at his back, but he was hesitant. Racing blindly through the battle, unable to really see his enemy, was terrifying. But it was more terrifying still to know that he was slowing his friends down.

  A blast cut too close to his face - he felt its heat strafe the side of his head and dived forward. He hit the ground behind a ship pitched so steeply on the sloping platform he didn't know what held it in place. "Daniel Jackson!" Teal'c dropped at his side as Alvita Candra hunkered down next to him. "You are hit!"

  "Just a scratch." Daniel dabbed at the wound with one hand and it came away slick with blood.

  Teal'c was glancing backward and forward. "We must not linger."

  "I can heal you," the Arxanti woman whispered. "I have the remem."

  Daniel shook his head. "I'm fine. Teal'c's right, we can't stop." Pushing his feet under him, he ignored the giddy spin to the world and strained to see the ship. A watery blur drifted behind the mist, but it could have been anything. "How far?"

  "Far enough."

 
Daniel glanced at Teal'c's grim face, then out across the chaotic battlefield. "You go ahead," he said softly. "I'll follow."

  Teal'c cut him a hard look. "I shall not."

  "I'm slowing you down," Daniel insisted, waving at his bare face. "Without my glasses..."

  Teal'c answered by looping an arm under Daniel's and pulling him back to his feet. "You would run faster if you talked less, Daniel Jackson."

  And so he did, guided by Teal'c out into smoke lanced with angry red laser fire and through the shouts and screams of fighting. Suddenly, something screeched like the spawn of hell above them. Something huge. Something in its death throes. Instinc tively, Daniel flung his arms over his head, but when he peered up he could only see a blur of dark shadow against the morning sky. A blur that was somehow getting closer-

  "Run" Teal'c yanked him forward, heedlessly bounding into the battle. Alvita Candra shouted out in terror, sprinting ahead and screaming at her people to move. The morning darkened into night as one of the great towers of Tsapan began to collapse on top of them.

  The miracle, when it happened, was slow. A gradual increase in the slope he was trudging up, a gradual shallowing of the water, until he needed to grab hold of the rough wall to keep himself from slipping on the slick, steep floor. And ahead of him, in the overwhelming darkness, he saw a faint light. It filtered through the doorway that led to the sheh fet, the door through which he and Carter had been forced.

  Gritting his teeth against the stench and the memories, Jack pulled himself up the damp corridor. Water was still streaming past him, confirming his belief that this part of the city had previously been submerged. But as the towers sank, the bottom of the city was rising from the ocean again. For now, at least. But he really had seen Titanic and knew exactly what would happen when the water inside reached a critical volume...

  But not yet. His fingers were numb with cold, aching as he clutched at the rough sides of the wall and at last heaved himself up into the circular room. He found it easier to stand on the wall than the slanting floor, and through a crack far above him shone a faint shaft of daylight. Its pale gleam caught on the sheh fet, dripping with water. There were bodies inside it still, even though he knew he'd opened the clamps while he'd been sitting in that damn chair. Perhaps some of the poor bastards hadn't been able to get out? Or hadn't wanted to. Or hadn't even realized they could.