Alliances

by Karen Miller

  Ignoring him, Jackson leaned across the briefing table towards Hammond. “General, I’m not saying don’t go. I’m saying we’d be stupid not to at least look into Teal’c’s claims.”

  Incredibly, Hammond didn’t take the archeologist’s head off for such a blatant challenge to his authority. Nor did anyone else on SG-1 seem surprised that Jackson would be so outspoken. This place really wasn’t an ordinary command.

  “We will, Doctor Jackson,” Hammond said. Now there was the faintest edge to his voice. “But Adjo’s not a planet we can afford to ignore.”

  “If it does turn out to be an all-you-can eat mineral buffet we’ll have a pretty nifty bargaining chip up our sleeve,” O’Neill murmured, with a sharp glance at the general.

  “Yes,” said Hammond with a grim satisfaction. “But given what Teal’c’s told us, I want a second MALP sent through to Adjo for backup air samples and a more extensive inspection of the gate’s immediate surroundings. And you can deploy another UAV. Milk every last drop of telemetry from it that you can. Major, I take it you’re aware of Adjo’s day/night cycle?”

  Carter nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then adjust SG-1’s schedule accordingly. Launch that second UAV at first light, local time, and send through the backup MALP. Let me know as soon as you’ve got enough data for a comprehensive mission briefing. In the meantime I’ll alert the President we’ll need an extraordinary allocation of resources once this proves out.”

  “And the Tok’ra?” said Carter. “I understand your position, sir, but if I could get hold of my father — ”

  “All right,” said Hammond. “Seeing as how he’s host to the oldest living Tok’ra symbiote, if anyone’s going to know more about what happened on Adjo it’s likely to be Jacob. But I want this handled discreetly, Major.”

  “What if Jacob’s not available?” said O’Neill. “We can trust Marty, can’t we?”

  Dixon frowned. Marty? Oh, yeah. Martouf. O’Neill and his stupid nicknames…

  “To a point,” Hammond said eventually. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll try for Jacob first.” He looked round the table. “Any questions? No?” He shifted his gaze. “Colonel Dixon? Your thoughts?”

  “I think we should go, sir,” he said, shrugging. “All due respect to Teal’c.”

  Hammond nodded. “Colonel O’Neill, I want you and Teal’c assessing all the current and incoming Adjo telemetry from a military standpoint. Doctor Jackson, I need your best estimate as to what we can expect from the local human population, assuming there is one. Colonel Dixon, your men are due on base at 0930 tomorrow. I’d appreciate it if you could take care of their orientation. Once they’re settled you can assist Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c with their tactical assessment of Adjo.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said. He didn’t look at O’Neill.

  “All right, people,” said Hammond, standing. “Consider yourselves back in priority rotation. We’ll meet here again at 1700 tomorrow for an update. Good night.”

  The general departed on a chorus of ‘good night, sirs’, then Jackson looked at Teal’c. “You’re not happy.”

  Teal’c’s face was smooth, like glass. “I am not, Daniel Jackson.”

  “Look, I know you’re concerned,” Jackson said, after a quick glance at O’Neill and Carter, “but what you’re worried about happened a long time ago. It’s the stuff of legend, which we will study. And we won’t be taking any unnecessary chances. Just… keep an open mind.”

  “Like I always do,” added O’Neill.

  “Yes,” said Jackson slowly. “Just like Jack does.”

  “The general won’t give us a go ahead if we find anything too hinky, Teal’c,” said Carter. “And I’ll make sure you see every last bit of telemetry. Okay?”

  His face still expressionless, Teal’c nodded. “Very well.”

  Carter turned. “Colonel Dixon, I’ll be prepping the UAV for launch in a few hours. If you’re still awake you should come to the gate room and watch. It’s really kind of cool. Colonel O’Neill never gets tired of it, do you, sir?”

  “Don’t I?” said O’Neill, vaguely. “Can’t say I’ve thought about it one way or another.”

  This time he didn’t try to smother the yawn. “Thanks, Major, but I might have to pass this time. I need to keep my strength up so I can shoot my guys with a zat gun when they get here tomorrow. Apparently that’s an essential part of SGC orientation.”

  Carter, Jackson and Teal’c stared accusingly at O’Neill.

  “Oh, God,” said Jackson. “Jack got you with a zat? Already? Damn. We should’ve warned you. He does that to new recruits. Don’t — you know — take it personally, Colonel.”

  A frozen moment. The ghost of Frank Cromwell glided through the briefing room, touching them all with a dark, cold finger.

  Dixon made himself smile to dispel the sudden chill. “I don’t.”

  O’Neill looked at him, and he looked back. O’Neill’s eyes were unreadable, nothing showing but disinterested politeness. Frank’s ghost whispered, in passing… You only ever know what he wants you to know.

  “And on that note,” he added, “I’ll bid you all goodnight — or good morning — and maybe see you in the commissary for breakfast.”

  He left them at the briefing table and made his groggy way back to his quarters.

  So that’s that, then. My first SGC briefing.

  Interesting. Very interesting.

  “Oh, wow,” said Daniel, early the following afternoon. “Wow wow wow. Sam! Quick, Sam, take a look at this!”

  On the brink of her own ‘wow’ moment, riding the adrenaline surge that let her forget how tired she was, Sam hit the pause button on the second UAV’s video playback. “What?”

  They were in one of the base’s spare storage rooms, having hastily converted it into Adjo Research Central. Three benches had been set up, one for her, one for Daniel and one for Teal’c and Colonel O’Neill, and they were working through the mountains of newly collected data and the re-test results on the first round of telemetry and air samples. But Teal’c had been called away for a quick consult with SG-11 about some newly discovered Goa’uld artifact, the colonel was holed up with Hammond finalizing SGC team changes and Dixon hadn’t finished showing his own team members round the base, which left her and Daniel holding the fort. He was checking the video footage the second MALP survey had sent back.

  “Look!” he said. “See what the MALP caught on film just before it fell over?”

  “The MALP fell over? Geez, Daniel — ”

  “Oh, who cares?” said Daniel, flapping an impatient hand. “You can fix it. Come look at this!”

  “Okay,” she said after a moment’s staring. “What is it?”

  “I think… it’s a shrine,” said Daniel reverently. “We didn’t see it in the first MALP’s footage because it’s tucked away behind Adjo’s gate. Look. See?” He tapped his finger on the video monitor’s screen. “Flowers, and they’re pretty fresh.”

  She leaned in. “Yeah. I see. And is that — Daniel, that looks like a nugget of unprocessed gold.”

  He was grinning. “Yeah. And that — ” Another tap on the screen. “— looks to me like a lump of raw naquadah. Is it? Ah…” Grin vanishing, he looked briefly uncomfortable. “You’d know better than me.”

  Yes she would, having spent too many cruel days in a naquadah mine not so long ago, chipping the damn stuff out of the walls. Not something they talked about much, one way and another. “Yeah,” she said, keeping her face and voice neutral. “That’s definitely a lump of raw naquadah. And I also think we’re looking at some unpolished diamonds, maybe raw trinium… God. This is incredible. And you think it’s a shrine? So, part of their religion?”

  “Yes, probably, but clearly there’s been some evolutionary drift from the source belief structure,” said Daniel, sounding distracted, his mind clearly racing. “I need a closer look. There’s writing carved in the rock but I can’t make out the details. The point is, Sa
m, it proves there are people still on Adjo thousands of years after the Goa’uld abandoned it!”

  Which was great for Daniel but wouldn’t mean much to the Pentagon types. But they were going to flip when they saw evidence of mineral bounty.

  “Yeah,” she said slowly, turning to look at her own video monitor. “Yeah, we’ve got people all right. We’ve got people and we’ve got what I think is an abandoned mine…”

  “Where?” said Daniel, shoving off his stool so fast it fell over. “Show me.”

  In silence they examined the second UAV’s grainy, shaky, birds-eye footage, which showed a small but obviously thriving settlement complete with human inhabitants and a variety of cultivated crops, nestled in a wide, three-sided shallow valley with a river running through its floor and what looked like a mine entrance set halfway up one sloping valley side.

  “Although,” she said, “it might just be a cave.”

  “Pretty big cave,” said Daniel, and let out a short sharp breath. “You know… this could be big. Really big.”

  Sam nodded. “You can say that again.” Then she frowned. “Damn, I wish this video quality was better. What happened to the close-ups I asked for? Who was flying the drone?” She checked the paperwork for a signature. Eckhart. She was new. Well, newish. Damn. I should’ve ignored Janet and stayed on base to do it myself.

  “It’s okay,” said Daniel, patting her arm. “It’s good enough for what we need.”

  “What time is it?” she said, glancing at the wall clock. “1620. God, no wonder I’m starving. We should grab some early dinner, Daniel. We’re briefing Hammond in forty minutes.”

  Daniel’s eyes were alight with enthusiasm. “Yeah. Food. Maybe later.”

  Yeah, later when he fell over into low blood sugar shock. She grabbed his wrist. “No. Now. You’re exhausted, you need to eat.”

  Daniel stared. “Don’t talk to me about being exhausted. Have you looked in a mirror today?”

  Sadly, she had. “I’ll make sure I get a solid eight hours sleep tonight. After I’ve eaten a solid meal. With you. Now come on.”

  They found Colonel Dixon in the commissary, sitting alone and reading a file while methodically working his way through some kind of meat-and-salad arrangement. Feeling eyes on him he looked up, smiled, and waved them over.

  “Sir,” she said, putting down her own plate of lasagna and blue Jell-o and sliding into a chair opposite. Daniel sat beside her, having selected the Club sandwich.

  “Major. Doctor.” Dixon considered them for a moment. “You look all revved up. Find something interesting in the new MALP and UAV footage?”

  “Ah… yes, sir. We did. I don’t want to pre-empt briefing General Hammond but I think it’s safe to say Adjo’s looking likely. And promising.”

  “Very promising,” added Daniel.

  Dixon nodded. “I get the feeling Teal’c’s still pretty antsy about the whole idea.”

  “He’s… cautious,” she admitted. “But on balance I can’t see how we can afford to pass up this opportunity. The potential rewards probably outweigh any risks left over from a conflict waged tens of centuries ago. Certainly we’ll take every appropriate precaution. We’re not reckless.”

  Another nod, as Dixon forked up more meat and salad. “Any word from your dad?”

  “No, not yet. He’s unavailable. Could be on a mission, the Tok’ra keep him pretty busy.”

  “They didn’t tell you?”

  “No,” she said, and pulled a face. “They’re very big on ‘need to know’.”

  Dixon shook his head. “Frustrating.” Then he smiled. “He’s a great guy, by the way. Your dad. I met him a couple of times when he was still — ” He waved the fork. “Regular Air Force. I was real sorry when I heard he got sick. Still, I guess everything worked out okay, didn’t it?”

  She stared at him, perplexed. Profoundly unsettled by this genial, smiling, relaxed man who knew so much about her and her family while she knew absolutely nothing about him.

  “I know,” said Dixon, unerringly reading her. “Kind of unfair, isn’t it? Knowledge should be a two-way street.”

  “It’s… a little disconcerting, sir,” she admitted, carefully dissecting the lasagna with her fork.

  “Yeah. I’ll bet,” said Dixon, his eyes warm with sympathetic amusement. “Look, if it helps we can swap war stories on Adjo while we’re toasting marshmallows over a cheery fire. I’ll even show you photos of my wife.”

  Daniel looked up, not even trying to hide his surprise. “You’re married?”

  “Six months.”

  “And you volunteered for this?”

  Dixon held Daniel’s gaze without effort. “Yeah. I owe Frank Cromwell.”

  And there it was… the elephant in the room, called out loud by name. Sam exchanged glances with Daniel and cleared her throat. He owes him? Owes him what? “Sir, I’d like to say how very sorry I am about Colonel Cromwell. Colonel O’Neill tried his hardest to stop him falling into the black hole. He nearly didn’t make it himself because he — ”

  “I read the reports, Major,” said Dixon mildly. “I know what happened. It wasn’t your fault, or O’Neill’s. It was… one of those things.”

  One of those things that still woke her in the middle of the night, a year later. “I hardly knew Colonel Cromwell — there wasn’t time — but he seemed like a fine man.”

  Dixon shoved his almost empty plate away. “Yeah. He was.”

  Beneath the mild voice, an aching abyss of regret. “I’m sorry,” she said again, feeling her own regrets stir to a sharp empathy. “Really.”

  “Thanks,” said Dixon and stood, folder in hand. “Well, that’s me done. Guess I’ll see you in the briefing.”

  “Huh,” said Daniel, as they watched Dixon thread his way through the tables towards the commissary door. “You know, he’s kind of normal for Special Forces, don’t you think?”

  Sam sighed. “We’ve had this conversation before, Daniel. Being crazy is not a pre-requisite for joining black ops.”

  “No,” said Daniel, thoughtfully. “But I think it helps.”

  She gave him a look. “Just shut up and eat, would you? We’ve only got twenty minutes.”

  “Good work, Major, Doctor,” said General Hammond, once Sam and Daniel had finished their presentations. “Am I right in thinking there must be more of a human presence on Adjo than that one settlement?”

  Praise from Hammond never failed to lift Sam’s spirits. Not even Teal’c’s dour, silent presence at the briefing table could dampen her pleasure. Repressing a smile as she took her seat again she said, “Yes, sir. There is.”

  “The video footage showed well-used tracks leading towards the open end of the valley and several carts coming and going,” explained Daniel. “Clearly there’s thriving social interaction between the people we observed and at least one other human settlement.”

  “But why didn’t we see any of them?” said Colonel Dixon. “The UAV’s range is what — fifty klicks, give or take? What’s the point of having villages spread so far apart?”

  “Ah, well, there could be any number of reasons,” said Daniel. “Topographical features, social divisions. But I think the most obvious explanation is that the UAV reached the limits of its telemetry before it was able to film the whole area. Or we sent it flying directly away from the other village or villages.”

  “Nah, I’m betting it’s got something to do with religion,” said Colonel O’Neill. “It always does, with you.”

  Daniel stared. “The human populations we encounter often make religion the centerpiece of their societies. It’s part of the social control mechanism. I simply observe the phenomenon and try to make sense of it.”

  The tiniest hint of a smile quirked the colonel’s lips. “Yes, Daniel.”

  “I mean, sure, religion is one explanation,” said Daniel. “Or it could be an habituated response to an original stimulus.”

  “Say that again,” the colonel invited. “Three times, really fas
t. I dare you.”

  With an heroic effort Daniel refused to rise to the bait. “General, it could be that these humans widely scattered their population centers to minimize losses if the Goa’uld returned. This village’s distance from the Stargate would certainly explain that. And then, what started out as a survival mechanism evolved over time into a custom. A tradition. Probably they don’t even remember why they live like this. They just do it because they always have.”

  The general nodded. “Something you can follow up when you get there, Doctor.”

  “Really?” Colonel O’Neill looked surprised, and not altogether in a good way. “You want Daniel futzing around with that soft-soap touchy feely stuff, sir?”

  “I do indeed,” said Hammond. “In fact establishing friendly relations with the humans on 844, learning all we can about them, will be Doctor Jackson’s top mission priority.”

  Daniel was grinning, delighted. “Wow, General. That’s — I’m — wow. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Doctor. Thank the Pentagon,” said Hammond. “We want this mission to go off without a hitch. The last thing we need is a repeat of the problems we had on PXY-887.”

  “You can say that again, sir,” said the colonel, with feeling. “One arrow through the arm is enough to be going on with, thank you very much.”

  Sam winced, remembering. “Hear, hear,” she muttered, which earned her a look from the colonel.

  “You did all right out of it. You got your first command.”

  She smiled. “Thank you for reminding me, sir. I keep forgetting to send the Salish a card.”

  “And once you’ve established a rapport with these people, Doctor Jackson,” Hammond continued, amused, “it’s my hope — and the President’s — that they’ll be able to guide you to all the abandoned mines in the area so we can make an accurate assessment of the resources available for acquisition.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said the colonel. “Is there a timeframe we’re supposed to be working within?”

  “ASAP,” said Hammond.

  The colonel rolled his eyes. “Surprise, surprise.”