The Barque of Heaven

by Stargate

  "Sahu. "

  The vortex surged obligingly out, once more opening the way to the stars.

  "Huh." Jack was impressed. He cast a quick glance around the meadow. No pillars or Eyes of Ra appeared to chivvy them on their way. Great.

  "Teal'c, take point."

  Teal'c marched forward into the wormhole, his whole body alert and primed for action, with Carter behind him guiding the FRED. Daniel exchanged a glance with Jack, then followed her through.

  Jack gripped his weapon and stepped into the Stargate, welcoming the familiar cold tug of the wormhole as it whisked him away.

  With no living bodies in proximity to the platform, the Stargate shut down. Silence descended over the lonely mountain meadow, its monuments, its graves, and its secrets.

  GATE TWO

  Prevailer with Swords

  hey stepped out of the wormhole onto a snow-covered circle of flagstones. Slender pillars surrounded the paving. Beyond stood the DHD, and behind that a vast, white field framed by leafy trees, grown twisted into elegant lines under the snow's weight. At the far edge of the clearing, almost hidden by the trees, stood buildings; five, six long peak-roofed huts, smoke curling from each into the cold, still air.

  "Jack, there are people here," Daniel said, his breath frosting. He pointed to the huts as doors opened and figures began to pour out.

  Before anyone could react, a glowing red force-field snapped up between each of the pillars, effectively trapping the team on the paving.

  "This barrier is resistant to our weapons, O'Neill," Teal'c declared.

  "Son of a...." Jack aborted reaching for his gun and pulled his knife free. Teal'c and Sam followed suit, a small show of defiance in the face of what appeared to be an entire company of Jaffa.

  Within a minute the Jaffa reached them, many looking surprised and expectant at the team's appearance. Heedless of the cold, they all wore sleeveless vests and bore an Eye of Ra tattooed on their upper arms. A tall warrior, his bearing clearly unaffected by his age, which looked to be greater than Bra'tac's, stepped forward. His forehead was unmarked but he too wore Ra's brand on his right arm. Daniel stared at it for a moment before the memory clicked into place; the Jaffa on Ra's ship had been branded in the same manner.

  The man held his gaze for several seconds, then scrutinized each member of SG-1, evidently pleased with what he saw. "Welcome, supplicants of our Mighty Lord Ra. Welcome."

  At a brief go-ahead nod from Jack, Daniel stepped forward with a tentative smile. "Hello, I'm Daniel Jackson. My friends and I are explorers-travelers. We're not actually supplicants of, uh, Ra."

  "All who come through the Chappa'ai are bound by the laws of our Lord's Trial," the Jaffa replied. "Whether you come singly or with companions, such as yours, you have shown your desire to be known as supplicants, young one."

  "No, you misunderstand me. We were, well, forced into going through the first Stargate of the Trial," Daniel persisted, pressing as close as possible to the heat of the force-field. "We have no desire to complete the Trial. We just want to go home."

  The Jaffa's expression darkened. "Your change of heart brings shame upon you and disgraces the honor bestowed by participating in the Trial." He looked around at the warriors ranked behind him. "We shall wait until the remainder of my men have returned from their training exercises. You will use this time to reflect and recognize the honored position you hold as supplicants seeking our Lord's favor." He scowled at Daniel.

  "Uh, what exactly happens when we're finished waiting?"

  "You shall be tested, individually, and we shall judge your worthiness to continue the Trial."

  The man turned away but Daniel strode along the barrier, anxious to keep him talking. "Wait, please. How will we be tested?"

  At Daniel's question, the Jaffa's expression lifted a little and he moved closer to examine each of the four. He paused, staring hard at Teal'c. "Jaffa-trusted child of Apophis-do you renounce all allegiance to the god of the night, mortal enemy of Ra, sun god?"

  Teal'c considered the question carefully and as always, answered truthfully. "I do."

  The Jaffa inclined his head in a respectful bow. His gaze moved on to Sam, holding eye contact with her for an uncertain moment. Stepping back, he addressed them.

  "Your task is, with your own choice of weapon, to engage in mortal combat with the chosen of Ra. Should you prove your worthiness by surviving, you shall be granted the Keys to the Gateway, and continue your quest."

  "Mortal? " Sam's whisper hung on the cold air.

  "Wait a damn minute, what do you mean by mortal?" Jack bellowed over her.

  "We shall begin with the woman. Our brother Jaffa shall follow, next the loud one, then the boy."

  Daniel's eyebrows lifted in indignation.

  "Victory shall be achieved upon the death of either supplicant or challenger," the Jaffa ended simply. He clapped his hands, sending his men scurrying in all directions.

  "Should'a stayed on the mountain," Jack muttered.

  Daniel remained by the barrier, watching as one group of Jaffa set to clearing the snow from a large area near the tree line. Off to the left of the team's imprisonment another group erected an elaborate tent and could be seen carrying all manner of goods inside. Between the area being swept clean and the shimmering force-fields, a long table was settled into the snow. Upon this table, two Jaffa arranged the wickedest assortment of weapons he had ever seen.

  Jack and Sam prowled the confines of their prison, testing the barriers for weak spots but finding none. Teal'c sought out the moon-clock then moved over to Jack and spoke quietly.

  "The device registers fifteen hours and thirty minutes until moonset, O'Neill."

  Jack nodded, his attention captured by the activity beyond the barrier. "What the hell are they doing?"

  The team of sweepers had completed their task, revealing a circular stone area almost twenty meters in diameter. With a loud crack, the stone suddenly split right across the center, the two halves sliding away to reveal a wide arena made of gleaming black slate. The Jaffa swiftly formed ranks along either side of the table. For long moments, silence stretched thin between both groups.

  Worried, Daniel turned away. "They can't be serious, can they? A fight to the death?" He looked at Teal'c, hoping for some insight that would get them out of this. Teal'c returned the look bleakly while Jack continued to stare belligerently through the force-field.

  "There are too many for us to attack in a group," Teal'c replied. "Without the Stargate address and password we are unable to leave this world. Our best chance may well lie in single combat."

  "But surely, if we tell them Ra is dead, they'll see there's no point in making us go through with this," Daniel objected. He took in the stony set of Teal'c's face with a sinking heart.

  "I do not believe we will easily change their minds, Daniel Jackson. All Jaffa are trained from a very young age to believe utterly in the power of their god. That these men are still here, following their orders years after Ra's death, speaks highly of their training and devotion."

  "But you overcame your training, Teal'c," Daniel said. "You realized Apophis wasn't a god and rejected him. Maybe some of these men feel the same way about Ra."

  Teal'c lifted a brow in consideration. "Perhaps. I was fortunate to have Bra'tac as my mentor and guide to the truth. These warriors may not be so lucky, and to insist their god is not a god may serve only to incense them and provoke more violence toward us."

  "You think we should fight, T?" Jack turned around, lines of concern etched in his face.

  "I do, O'Neill. When one or two of us achieve victory in our battles, we may be in a position to assist our teammates."

  "Well, if I'm first, I'd better warm up." Sam shed her jacket and handed it to Daniel. He clenched his fingers in the material and watched her start a routine of warm-up stretches.

  "Sam... Jack, we can't let them do this."

  "Not a lot of options, Daniel. Teal'c's right, we get a couple of us outsid
e this barrier, we might have a chance."

  "But we have to try talking to them," Daniel insisted. "This is wrong. Sam...."

  "I'll be okay, Daniel. At least they aren't making me wear a dress this time." Sam grinned and threw him a wink before launching into a series of push-ups.

  Daniel quietly watched Sam prepare, not wanting to believe they were so suddenly in a life or death situation. He saw her close down into that military mindset: shut off the feelings, close out the conscience, get the job done and survive to worry about it later, and he admired and envied her for it. He knew she could win this fight but she shouldn't be forced into such a situation in the first place. None of them should. Uncomfortably, Daniel became all too aware of himself. Sure, he had the skills. Hours and hours of drilling by Jack and Teal'c and the SGC trainers ensured that, but to intentionally set out to kill another person? Self-defense not withstanding, he had to admit it would be easier to throw himself into death's path to save someone he barely knew than to resign himself to deliberately taking another person's life.

  Finally, the Jaffa in charge reappeared, accompanied by three others. All were stripped down to pants and boots with thick metal greaves covering their forearms. They seemed heedless of the cold and stood in the limber stance of professional fighters. At a gesture from his leader, a younger man stepped forward, pointed what looked like a small, black remote control at the field and pressed a series of buttons. A white light enveloped each of the weapons borne by the team and in a flash they were gone; MP5s, staff, zats, knives and Berettas were suddenly in a pile on the other side of the forcefield.

  "Hey!" Jack leaped forward, nose reddening from the warmth generated by the barrier. "We don't want any part of this Trial."

  The leader ignored him and addressed Sam. "Our men have returned from their training. You shall commence your Rite of Combat now and prove your life worthy to be given in service to our god."

  Teal'c moved up to Sam and stared gravely down at her. "Major Carter, it is unlikely these Jaffa have had to engage a woman in combat who does not possess a Goa'uld or a symbiote. They will not expect you to have the level of fighting skills that you do. They will, in all likelihood, underestimate you. Use this to your advantage."

  "I will. Thanks Teal'c."

  Jack left off glaring at the Jaffa. "Major." He fixed her with an uncompromising stare. "You can do this. Remember your training."

  "Yes, sir." Sam stood, shaking her arms and legs, pushing the adrenaline through them.

  "Go get `em, Major."

  "How...?" The Jaffa with the control box adjusted something and suddenly Sam was standing on the far side of the force-field. "Oh."

  Grimly, Sam pulled herself to attention and snapped off a salute at Jack. She nodded sharply to Teal'c, met Daniel's gaze with a soft smile, then allowed herself to be escorted away.

  As Carter made her way to the weapons table, Jack drew Teal'c back from the force-field, out of Daniel's earshot.

  "Teal'c, any ideas here? You think we can take these guys?"

  "You and Major Carter are highly proficient in hand-tohand combat. Both your own methods and those I have taught you will serve you well. Jaffa rarely fight in ways outside the bounds of their training. I believe the three of us shall prevail."

  Teal'c shifted his gaze and Jack followed to look at Daniel, standing with arms crossed, his whole body radiating concern for Carter.

  "Jaffa honor scholars, don't they?" Jack asked quietly. "Would they expect one to fight to the death?"

  "Scribes are honored with the same regard as priests in Jaffa society. They would be well protected and not expected to take part in any battles. However, if the purpose of this Trial is to gain advancement within the court of Ra, then I fear that all who come here are put to the test, regardless of their vocation."

  "If we told them he's not a fighter, do you think they'd make an exception?"

  "Perhaps. They may also view him as vulnerable."

  "Christ." Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  "It is possible the victor of each fight will be placed in the tent the Jaffa have erected." Teal'c gazed at the brightly colored tent, clearly mulling over possible strategies.

  Jack was right behind him. A lot of things had been carried into the tent during its set-up. "It's outside the force-field."

  "That it is. As will be ourselves and Major Carter. We may be able to come to Daniel Jackson's assistance should he require it."

  "Well, it's a start at least," Jack conceded, beginning to walk slowly back to Daniel. The main priority was to keep the team together, preferably uninjured, and then they could concentrate on escaping the planet.

  "Daniel Jackson is a resourceful and capable man, O'Neill."

  "I know, Teal'c. I know."

  They returned to the barrier and stood either side of Daniel, eyes fixed on Carter.

  "Choose. Your opponent shall be likewise armed."

  Sam drew a calming breath and let her gaze wander over the assortment of deadly weapons before her. There were swords of varying length and width, all razor-sharp and brightly polished. Clubs, batons, daggers, knives, what was probably a version of brass knuckles, odd multi-jointed chain and stick affairs, something that looked disturbingly like a nail-studded mace; the selection, and their potential for harm, was chilling.

  She fixed on a gleaming eight inch knife, sharp and effi cient. She picked it up, testing the weight. It sat snugly in her hand, not too heavy and perfectly balanced.

  Sam looked up at the commander and nodded. He nodded back, seeming pleased with her selection.

  "Jaffa, kree!"

  One of the fighters stepped forward. Not the biggest, thankfully but certainly capable-looking. His muscles gleamed under a coating of oil. He picked up the partner to her knife, inclined his head solemnly and turned, leading the way to the arena.

  There had to be nearly sixty Jaffa arrayed around the stone border. Sam followed her opponent into the center, where they stood, each sizing up the other. She felt her focus narrow, blocking out everything beyond the man in front of her.

  He stood only a couple of inches taller and probably had fifty pounds on her in weight. His chest was bare but a light chain-mail wrap covered the vulnerable symbiote pouch; his trousers were a thick material, topped by a flap of chain-mail at groin level.

  Sam pulled her forage cap off and resettled it backwards. Her BDU jacket was done up and she felt prepared, tension zinging the blood through her veins.

  There was no preamble, no flowery speeches to get the proceedings started, just an expectant hush in the crowd. A gong rang out.

  The Jaffa tensed into a crouch, body flexing, hands spread apart. Sam began to circle, her weapon held wide, ready to strike. The Jaffa lunged with blinding speed. Sam twisted away, feeling the knife rip through her jacket sleeve. Her knife flicked as his arm withdrew, leaving a score of blood along his bicep.

  Circling each other, they lunged and feinted, knives connecting with skin and clothing, glancing off out-flung arms. They fought silently, breath consumed in exertion. The Jaffa's size was deceiving, and he moved with the speed and grace of a panther.

  Sam sucked in her gut as his knife made another attempt to disembowel her. She twisted away, slashing her weapon across his bare back, flinging up an arm to block his return blow. He feinted again, she followed for a fraction of a second and he got under her guard, scoring a long cut along her hip.

  Letting the contact carry her down to the ground, she tucked her shoulder in and rolled, coming up behind the Jaffa, and in one fluid movement slashed with everything she had at his unprotected knee. Off balance and bellowing in pained rage, he fell, landing awkwardly on his side.

  Now driven by pure instinct, Sam leapt on him without a moment's hesitation. Even as he was pulling himself up she kicked out at his hand, sent the knife spinning away, and reached over his shoulder. Her blade found his neck and with one sickening heave, she jerked it straight across his throat.

  The
warrior fell limp with a small gurgle of air escaping his lungs. Dead. So very dead.

  Sam rolled away, coming to her feet and scanning the Jaffa surrounding her. None made a move toward her. The gong rang out again. The commander rose and beckoned her to him.

  Instead, heart hammering in her chest, Sam turned and forced herself to really look at the man on the ground. At the death she had caused. His handsome face found a place deep in her memory, likely to stay there for a very long time. She bowed to him in respect, one soldier to another, then turned and made her way out of the arena.

  A young Jaffa, eyes wide with admiration, presented her with a small stone plaque, into which was carved a Stargate address and presumably the password in Goa'uld script. He turned and escorted her to the tent on the other side of the clearing.

  Sam glanced at her teammates and gave them a thumbs-up before entering the tent. Inside she found pallets and cushions to rest on and tables laden with food, drink and bowls containing herbal-smelling substances. The warrior left her alone. With slow, deliberate movements she picked up an empty bowl, dropped to her shaking knees and proceeded to throw up what felt like every meal she had ever had.

  "Is she okay?"

  Jack stood as close as he could to the force-field, straining to see clearly through the rippling red energy. Carter's thumbsup answered Daniel's question and filled him with relief. They had watched the fight, their view partly obscured by the spectators, with helplessness gnawing at them. Now the Jaffa were headed toward them again.

  Teal'c shed his vest, jacket and empty holster. He stood calmly anticipating the fight to come, confidence a near-visible aura around him.

  "So. T." Jack found the words sticking in his throat. He hated-hated-this, sending his people off into danger with no backup, without even a good reason for risking their lives; even Teal'c, who had more years and experience than the rest of them put together.

  "Fight the good fight," he said lamely.

  "I shall, O'Neill. I bid you good fortune in your own battle."