Stargate SG-1 30 - Insurrection

by Sally Malcolm

  After a beat, Carter said, “Is all Wraith technology like this—part biological?”

  “Much of it is,” he said. “To our great advantage. A skilled hive master can heal a damaged hive quicker than even the Ancestors could repair their ships. And a queen…” A soft hiss escaped. “There is no bond stronger than that between a queen and her hive, or a blade and his dart. Especially when in battle. They act as one.”

  And Jack could certainly see the advantage of that.

  “Fascinating,” Carter said, scanning the corridor as they walked. He could almost see her filing data away, trying to figure out how she could use this technology when they got home… If they got home. He shoved the doubts aside: one impossible situation at a time.

  Sting slowed his pace and then turned into a small chamber that branched off from the corridor. Inside, the light was better but only by a small margin. It was enough, however, to reveal Earthborn rising to her feet from within a curved pod that may have been a bed or some kind of freaky cocoon. He let his attention linger on it for a moment before turning to the Wraith queen.

  She was as imperious as ever, elegant and alien. Maybe, to Wraith eyes, she was even beautiful. From the way Sting watched her, Jack guessed she must be—either that or he was simply smitten.

  Jack chanced a slight glance at Carter, then turned a smile on Earthborn. “See?” he said. “Told you I’d be back.”

  Earthborn inclined her head. “Teal’c and Daniel are not with you.”

  “No.” He flattened his expression, giving nothing away. “They had other things to do. But you don’t need them, do you? You just need me and my funky genes.”

  She didn’t answer, her gaze sliding over to Sting. He could almost hear their silent conversation: Sting urging caution, Earthborn throwing it to the wind.

  When her attention returned to Jack, she said, “What is the proposal you bring?”

  He spread his hands, striving for honesty. He wasn’t lying, exactly. He was just selecting the truths he told with care. Hopefully her mind-reading powers only worked on other Wraith. “We’ll help you,” he said. “You get Carter and me to Shadow’s hive, and we’ll help you fly it.”

  Earthborn tilted her head. “Why Major Carter?”

  “Because Carter’s the best shot we got of figuring out how to fly the damn thing.” And that was no lie—if she happened to stumble across one of the hybrids they needed to bring to Hecate then so much the better. “No offense to your crazy scientist.”

  “You refer to Stormfire?” Earthborn said. She didn’t sound pleased. “His mind has been damaged, it is true—by war and by loss and grief—but he will be respected.”

  “Just so long as he doesn’t throw me in jail again.”

  Earthborn didn’t answer that, her attention once more on Sting. “My consort is incorrect,” she said after a moment, as if she thought Jack could hear them. “Stormfire has great knowledge of the Ancestors’ technology. He will be an asset on this mission.”

  “Uh, no.” This was a line he wasn’t prepared to cross for anyone. “He’ll be a liability. I don’t care how he got broken, but he’s not coming with us. He could jeopardize the whole mission.” He narrowed his eyes, trying to read her like he would a human. “I think you know that.”

  Averting her gaze, she said, “You will come with me now and we will talk with him. He has schematics of the ship, devices that may be of use to us when—”

  “Us?” Sting said.

  Earthborn’s attention snapped to him, teeth bared in obvious irritation.

  Sting took half a step backward—maybe he hadn’t intended to say that out loud—but he didn’t look contrite. “My queen, you cannot travel to Shadow’s hive.”

  “And who are you to say what your queen can and cannot do?”

  Sting’s face hardened and there were a couple of long, uncomfortable beats of silence while they argued it out between them. Carter cleared her throat and lifted a curious eyebrow. Jack met her look with a shrug. Her guess was as good as his regarding who was going to come out on top, but his money was on Earthborn.

  But then Sting said, “Shadow will sense you the moment you step aboard.” He turned to Jack with a look that demanded backup.

  Not that he wanted to get in the middle of this particular domestic dispute, but his ass was on the line too—and, more importantly, so was Carter’s. And Earth’s. “If that’s true,” he said, “then Sting’s right. This has to be a covert op, or it’ll fail. And then none of us will come back.”

  Earthborn’s eyes flicked back to Sting—an obvious tell. Jack knew where her priorities lay.

  “Once we have control of her hive,” Carter added, “then you can confront Shadow. Which I guess is what you want?”

  Earthborn narrowed her eyes. She looked like she was picking through Carter’s thoughts—an uncomfortable image, given what they were hiding. “Very well,” she said at last. “But know this: Shadow is mine to destroy and I will have her.”

  Jack shrugged his agreement, despite the way his stomach clenched with unease. Young though Earthborn appeared, she was not a woman—Wraith—to be crossed. Which was, of course, exactly what they were planning on doing.

  Peachy.

  Hecate’s Ha’tak — 2098

  From space, it was easy to detach oneself, Daniel thought. Standing by the window in the coolness of the Ha’tak’s viewing chamber, a certain objectivity established itself. He could be anywhere in the galaxy and the murk of brown spinning against the crisp blackness of space could be any planet. They would simply do what they always did in these situations: whatever it took to save the day.

  But hard reality came in the knowledge that somewhere on this ship was his friend, Janet Fraiser. And somewhere inside her was a Goa’uld controlling her every word and movement. He’d gone through too much pain believing that Amunet had not destroyed all that once was Sha’re, clinging to the hope that his wife could be saved. He wouldn’t return to that fantasy this time. But the fact that it was Janet, of all people, who was now playing host to the very thing he detested most… It was a twisted cruelty and once again Daniel couldn’t help but envisage ways they might still save her.

  But logic and experience told him that any hope of snatching a victory from this bleak situation lay in their plans to take down the Wraith. Which was why his mission to Arbella was so important. The planet below wasn’t just anywhere; it was Earth, and the stakes were higher than they’d ever been.

  The door behind him hissed open and Daniel pushed himself away from the window to see Rya’c enter. It was somewhat comforting to note that he’d changed out of the armor of Hecate’s Jaffa.

  “Has there been a reply?” asked Daniel.

  Rya’c shook his head.

  Daniel threw his hands up. “What the hell is keeping them?” Rya’c had sent word through to Arbella some time ago that SG-1 had succeeded in their mission and Daniel had thought the response would have been immediate. He found it more than surprising that a man like Jones, who’d seemed so desperate to get his wife back, would allow any delay in her return.

  “You should not concern yourself, Dr. Jackson. In my experience with Arbella, I’ve often found their politics to be… thorny. It makes dealing with them problematical. They are a very closed off people.”

  “But, Rya’c, this is the man’s wife we’re talking about here. He’s the leader of their world. Surely he has some sway in getting her back home as soon as possible?”

  Rya’c rubbed a hand across his chin and frowned. “I admit I had hoped for a quicker resolution. But we must be patient.”

  Daniel took a breath and paced over to the window again. “I’m sorry. I guess you know a lot about patience.”

  “The Jaffa lifespan is all relative, Dr. Jackson. Our years don’t seem as long to us as they might to you.” He paused before adding, “Though it has been a long century.”

  “So do you think this is the end game?”

  “I think…” Rya’c pur
sed his lips, considering. “I hope it is the beginning of a new chapter.” Daniel tilted his head in question and Rya’c continued. “I spent many years resenting my father. I realize now it was unfair to him—indeed, I probably always knew it. But sometimes anger at the hand of fate asserts itself in irrational ways, and I blamed the Tau’ri for taking him from us. The boy I was back then would not have fought for the people of Earth. But then I met a person who reminded me of why my father chose to fight for you, of why he’d made his choices. And I honor that person to this day.”

  Daniel thought of the name Rya’c had chosen to be known by. “You mean Dave Dixon?”

  Rya’c smiled and shook his head. “No, though Colonel Dixon was indeed a noble warrior and my choice of name is inspired by him. No, Dr. Jackson, it was Cassandra Fraiser who reminded me of the goodness inherent in the human race, and the worthiness of their fight. She was a soldier of noteworthy strength.”

  Daniel’s eyebrows rose, thinking of the kid he’d last seen wearing braids and doing her math homework at Janet’s kitchen table. “Cassandra? Cassandra was a soldier?”

  Rya’c’s face lit up with something almost like awe. “She was more than that. She was a leader. Colonel Dixon taught her to have compassion, but to be passionate about doing what was right.”

  Daniel smiled and looked away, lost for a second in the past. “I think maybe her mom had a lot to do with that first.”

  Rya’c inclined his head. “Perhaps. The Lady Hecate exhibits many traits that would indicate Janet Fraiser was a compassionate person.”

  The statement cut through Daniel’s warm memories and he swallowed down the bitter taste. “You say Colonel Dixon taught Cassandra. You mean he raised her?”

  “As I understand it.”

  “So when did he become Hecate’s First Prime? And more importantly, why?” Daniel hadn’t really known Dave Dixon, but Jack had respected him and that spoke to the man’s character. He couldn’t understand why someone like that, a military officer, would make the choice to become the right hand man to a System Lord. Unless… “You said that Colonel Dixon was loyal to Janet. Were they, um…?”

  Rya’c held out his hands. “I can only surmise what Colonel Dixon’s reasons were for choosing allegiance to my mistress. Though I do know that, without the Lady Hecate’s intervention, Cassandra Fraiser would have died when she was sixteen.”

  “How?”

  “The goddess was able to counter the effects of a retrovirus implanted inside Cassandra by the System Lord, Nirrti. I believe this may have convinced Dixon that Janet Fraiser had indeed blended with the Lady Hecate.”

  Daniel squeezed his eyes shut. It was a lot to process and he wondered how Cassie had dealt with it all; losing her mother, only to see her again in the form of a Goa’uld. He was glad Dave Dixon had been there for her, when the rest of them weren’t. He wondered if she’d ever blamed them for Janet’s death—because, irrational though he knew it was, he couldn’t help but blame himself. “Thank you,” he said to Rya’c. “It’s some comfort to know she had a friend in you.”

  “She had many friends, Dr. Jackson. And many followers. Cassandra Fraiser dedicated herself to defeating the Wraith. It will be fitting if SG-1 sees her legacy fulfilled.”

  With a frown, Daniel cast a glance back at the planet below, thinking of Sting and Earthborn and how the legacy Rya’c spoke of would see their people wiped out. It was necessary, he knew, to rid Earth of the Wraith, but the method they’d chosen did not sit well with him. But if what Hecate had told them was true, allowing Shadow’s plan to come to fruition would be much worse.

  He was saved from having to respond by the door opening once more. “Master Dix,” said the young Jaffa who entered. “Arbella has made contact. They wish for Dr. Jackson and Teal’c to return with the president’s wife.”

  It was with some anxiety that Daniel donned his BDUs in readiness for the return to Arbella. He shared a glance with Teal’c and thought he saw the same unease in the grim set of his jaw. The delay in Arbella’s response was unsettling, made more so by the fact that apparently it wasn’t Roz Bailey who had made contact, but the inscrutable Agent Yuma.

  They made their way to the gateroom where, moments later, Rya’c entered with Lana Jones by his side, empty-eyed and shuffling. Rya’c’s arm was around the woman and it looked as if he was holding her up. Daniel grimaced, thinking of what she had gone through—and how Jones would feel seeing the woman he loved reduced to such a shell.

  “I worry that the return of his wife in such a condition will do more harm than good to our cause,” said Teal’c in a low voice. It seemed harsh to think of their own agenda at such a time, but Daniel knew it was an important consideration; they needed Gunnison Jones on their side.

  He walked over to Rya’c, taking Lana’s arm and gripping her round the waist as gently as possible, while still holding her upright. The woman sagged against him, but didn’t seem to register his presence. “Good luck, Dr. Jackson,” said Rya’c, before turning to Teal’c. “Tal’ma’te, father. Chel nok.”

  Teal’c bowed his head in acknowledgment and then stepped through the event horizon, with Daniel and Lana following seconds later. On the other side, they found themselves greeted by the cold eyes of Agent Yuma—and the wrong end of at least a half dozen automatic weapons.

  “Well, this all seems familiar,” he muttered, turning to Teal’c, only to witness him falling to the ground. Daniel barely had time to register the blow to the back of his own head, before the cold floor of the gateroom came up to meet him and blackness descended.

  Earth — 2098

  Despite the circumstances, Sam couldn’t suppress a jolt of excitement when she stepped into the Wraith laboratory. They knew so little about the Ancients—the Gate Builders—and this place was brimming with artifacts and technologies the Wraith claimed were Ancient in origin. While the colonel talked with Earthborn, Sam let her eyes wander. The first thing she noticed was James O’Kane standing unobtrusively in the shadows. She nodded to him and he gave a sober nod in return.

  Letting her eyes rove further she took in dozens of devices—some in pieces, some complete—all with the same consistency of design: sleek lines, muted colors, gentle organic structures. It was different, in almost every way, from the raw power of the Stargate. But then, she supposed, the gate network was probably one of the Ancient’s earliest creations and their race had endured for millennia. It was no surprise their aesthetic taste had matured.

  “Hey, Carter.” The colonel jerked his head to beckon her over. “We need your smarts over here.”

  ‘Over here’ was a long work bench where Sting and Earthborn stood with another Wraith, one Sam hadn’t seen before. Unless…? She glanced at O’Neill, who gave a subtle roll of his eyes. “Carter this is ‘Stormfire,’” he said, putting air-quotes around the name. “He was the one trying to kill us last time we were here.”

  Right. She remembered: Stormfire was Jack’s friend ‘Crazy.’ Getting a close look at the creature now, with his matted hair and off-kilter gait, Sam could see where the colonel was coming from with the name. Stormfire had nothing of the deadly poise possessed by Earthborn and Sting. He cocked his head and hissed a breath through his bared teeth, eyes somehow too wide. “This is your cleverman?”

  “Less man, more clever,” the colonel said. “And, yeah, Carter’s a scientist. Also, she’s coming with us. That’s non-negotiable, by the way.”

  “And what do you know?” Stormfire said to Sam. “What do you know, cleverman?”

  “What do I know?” She wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Um, in general or specifically?”

  “About the Ancestors.” Stormfire took a shuffling step forward, his clawed fingers flexing like he was contemplating breakfast.

  Sam willed herself not to take a step backward, pushed the memory of clawed fingers on her chest to the back of her mind. He couldn’t hurt her, even if he tried. “Probably not as much as you,” she conceded, “but I’m a quick study.
Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”

  “What I’ve got?” He barked a laugh and twisted around with his arms spread wide. “Everything and nothing. And eyes. Yes, yes. I have eyes and ears, but not hands to touch.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Do you understand? Not hands to touch.”

  Beside her the colonel shifted, clearly made uncomfortable by Stormfire’s erratic behavior. Given that he’d held the colonel prisoner for a couple days, Sam couldn’t really blame him. But she thought she understood what Stormfire meant, why he was frustrated. “You can’t access most of their technology,” she said. “Because you don’t have the Ancestors’ gene.”

  Stormfire just hissed and, into the silence that followed, Earthborn said, “None of my kind possesses the gene; the Ancestors designed it to be so.”

  “Because they didn’t want you to use their stuff?” the colonel said.

  “They created us,” Earthborn said with a hint of old anger. “They abandoned us. And then they learned to fear us.” She looked at Sting and something passed between them before she turned back to Sam. “I understand that in our own galaxy there are those who venerate the Ancestors as deities. But I cannot do so. If they were gods, then they were capricious and cruel.”

  The colonel grunted in agreement. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

  Earthborn cut him a curious look—a little too curious. O’Neill shifted beneath it, as if he was afraid she might pluck Hecate’s plan right out of his head—and, who knew, maybe she could? He should never have alluded to the Goa’uld and the colonel knew it.

  Attempting to divert her attention, Sam said, “How much do you know about Shadow’s hive? You said it was created by the Ancestors.”

  After another beat, Earthborn’s gaze left the colonel and she gestured to Stormfire. “Show us the schematics.” To Sam she said, “These were taken from Atlantis by Stormfire some years ago, however I believe they remain accurate.”

  But Stormfire wasn’t cooperating. Instead, he shook his head, setting his ratty hair swaying. “What use are maps,” he said, “if you can’t open the door?”