“No. I’m fine.” A moment’s pause. “Keep us posted.”
Even Teal’c could not ignore the brevity of Daniel Jackson’s response. He exchanged glances with Major Carter.
She shrugged. “Daniel’s been pretty quiet since… Since Janet’s death.”
“They were close,” Teal’c offered. Indeed, it had been his observation in the weeks before Janet Fraiser’s demise that Daniel Jackson spent much of his free time with her and her daughter, Cassandra.
In the weeks since, he had turned inward. Not withdrawn, but not as quick to engage in non–mission-related concerns.
Healing would take time. For all of them.
“Teal’c, I’m sorry about biting your head off earlier.”
“My head is intact, Major Carter.” He met her sorrowful gaze and added, “Your apology is appreciated.”
She examined a cable emanating from the tank, then looked up from her scanner. “Do you know anything about why Daniel’s so eager for the colonel to do crossword puzzles?”
“I do not.” Teal’c shifted his staff weapon to his other hand. “Janet Fraiser had several such books in her office.”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“Major Carter, the symbiote?”
“Right.” Biting her lip, she returned to studying the scanner. “I’m willing to bet this uses the same technology as Anubis’ super soldiers. The nutrient tank houses the Goa’uld, which in turn controls key systems. Somehow, the symbiote’s cybernetically tied into ship’s functions.”
She touched the cable. A blue wave of energy shot outward, throwing her back against the far wall.
Teal’c ran to her side. “Are you all right?”
She gave a swift nod. “The tank’s got the same shielding mechanisms as the super soldiers. Either that, or there’s a feedback loop somewhere in the system.” She stood and rubbed her hand. “I don’t think your staff weapon’s going to do much good.”
Glancing back at the symbiote, he discovered that its thrashing had subsided.
He shared his observation.
“The shock must have spooked it. I have a hard time believing a blank slate symbiote, like the ones used in the super soldiers, could manage something as complex as a hyper-drive.”
She strode over to the hyper-drive compartment, as if the attack on her person had never happened. Raising her scanner over the black box, she then followed the cables extending from its base up into the drive’s compartments.
Teal’c once again aimed his staff weapon toward the tank. “You yourself made it clear that O’Neill requires immediate medical assistance.”
“He does…” She peered into the open primary hyper-drive drawer. One cable from the box was threaded up into the drawer and wrapped around the primary control crystal. Kneeling by the box once more, Major Carter aimed her scanner at its base as surely as his staff weapon was aimed at the tank. Her brow furrowed. She turned a scanner dial and repeated her task.
“Major Carter?”
“Hmm?”
“If O’Neill was here, he would express impatience.”
“I know, Teal’c.” She rocked back on her heels and frowned. “I just… I just don’t know how to fix this. Not yet.”
There had to be a way. Of this Teal’c was certain. SG-1 had not come this far or risked so much to be left stranded. He eyed the now-still symbiote. “Perhaps the electrical surge that harmed you can be used to permanently disarm the Goa’uld’s stranglehold. Perhaps there is some unguarded cable. An unshielded crystal to — ?”
“Not that I can find. The shield extends from the nutrient tank to the hyper-drive’s control crystal.” Major Carter stood up, her attention returned to the black box. “I’m pretty sure that if we kill the symbiote, the ship wouldn’t work at all, and it’s not only the hyper-drive I’m worried about. Look up there.” She pointed to the computer core and then to the life support systems against the rear bulkhead. Black cables led from each down into the nutrient tank. “As much as I hate to admit it, the design’s without flaw.”
“Oh, I can think of one flaw.”
O’Neill had arrived. He leaned against the doorway, his eyes never leaving the tank. “If that slimy snake in the tank controls the ship, why did it let us lift off?”
4. Depression (n): {psychology} — a state of feeling sad marked by inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, and feelings of dejection and hopelessness. During the fourth stage, the grieving person quietly separates to bid their loved one farewell.
Daniel slumped in the pilot’s seat, hands on the control globe, and waited. The ship wouldn’t go into hyperspace, he still had thrusters, but so what? It wasn’t like there were any neighboring planets or moons with a gate. SG-1 was stuck, as usual. Sam would figure out how to fix it. As usual.
An asteroid loomed off the port bow. With a bit of gallows humor, he considered changing course to bring the ship closer. The last time he’d seen an asteroid up close, it had nearly been his final resting spot.
A morbid thought. He knew better. He should be used to the pain, he should be used to saying goodbye.
He swallowed hard at that realization. “I never got to say goodbye.”
“Nor I.”
Daniel glanced over his shoulder. “Did you say something?”
Jack wasn’t there. The crossword puzzle book lay on the floor, the pencil beside it. Broken. As if someone had stepped on it.
Fine. Jack could ignore the puzzle book. He was a grown man. While he was at it, he might as well ignore Daniel’s efforts to keep him alive.
God, he was tired. Soul tired. He recognized the symptoms and he knew the only cure was time. Eventually, he’d get used to the loss, but it would still leave a hole.
It always did.
He pulled out his radio. “Teal’c, is Jack with you?”
“Hold on, Daniel,” came Sam’s voice from the radio. “The colonel might be on to something.”
Daniel stuffed the radio back in his pocket. Leave it to Jack. He’d lost a great deal of blood and still refused to give up. Daniel appreciated his “never say die” attitude, tried to live it. Especially since his own return to life.
“But sometimes it isn’t enough,” he said aloud.
A rattling sound came from the intercom grid next to the HUD controls. “They attempt to disengage my connection to the ship.”
Daniel sat upright in his seat. “My connection?”
“They will not succeed. Anubis is too clever.”
Daniel yanked his radio back out. “Um, guys… You better get in here.”
“I had heard Samantha Carter was quite brilliant, but even she cannot —”
Daniel stared at the intercom. “Who are you?”
“I am Penthos of the Tok’ra.”
“Penthos… The Greco-Roman spirit of —”
“Grief.”
Under different circumstances, he’d have smiled at the irony.
“And I’m Santa Claus.” Jack stumbled into the cockpit with Teal’c’s aid. “Daniel, who ya talking to?”
“I know of all of you, Colonel O’Neill. Daniel Jackson. Jacob Carter’s daughter, Samantha, and the Jaffa, Teal’c.” Another sigh. Deeper this time. “SG-1’s exploits are known throughout the Tok’ra’s spy network.”
“Yeah, so?” Jack shrugged, nonchalant as ever. “Last I checked, we’d made the galaxy-wide Goa’uld news, too. That doesn’t prove anything.”
“You know my father?” Sam asked.
“We met shortly before my final assignment. Selmak and I were born of the same queen-mother.”
“Egeria,” Teal’c said. “That is also not unknown to the Goa’uld.”
Penthos groaned again.
“Are you in pain?”
“Goa’uld or Tok’ra, Daniel, he’d have to be,” Sam whispered. “Anubis punctured the symbiote’s hide with at least a half-dozen conductors.”
“Eight, to be precise, Jacob’s daughter.”
“I’m sorry, I —”
“Don’t go feeling sorry for it, Carter.” Jack sank down into the navigator’s chair. “It’s still a Goa’uld.”
“And we’re still stuck on a ship incapable of hyper-drive,” Daniel reminded him. “Goa’uld or Tok’ra, shouldn’t we —”
“What? Do you want to negotiate with the thing?”
“O’Neill, would it not be prudent to see if this Penthos could be of assistance?”
Daniel nodded in agreement with Teal’c.
“Fine.” Jack leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. “Have at it.”
“Wait a minute, Daniel.” Sam slid into the pilot’s chair and enabled the HUD. “Penthos, if you’re really a Tok’ra, can you tell us the coordinates for the base you were stationed at before… Before losing your —”
“Before losing my host?” Another groan. This time thinner, more ragged. “For the sake of my fellow Tok’ra, I cannot. While the Tau’ri were willing to share coordinates for their Alpha Site, you are many and my people few.”
Jack’s eyes snapped open. “What’s an Alpha Site?”
“Please, Colonel O’Neill. The Tok’ra knew of its location. Your General Hammond had offered sanctuary if ever the need arose.”
Daniel was satisfied. “Sounds like a Tok’ra to me.”
“Indeed,” Teal’c said. “A Goa’uld would have lied, providing us with false coordinates.”
“I am not Goa’uld!”
Daniel raised his hands, unsure if Penthos could see the peaceful gesture for what it was. He turned around, searching for a lens that might indicate if the symbiote could see as well as hear.
There. Over by the HUD. A blue-tinged round camera lens, about two inches in diameter. Penthos had been watching them since they’d come on board. Why hadn’t he said anything until now?
“Uh, hello.” Daniel waved at the lens. “We’d like to believe you, but…”
“You require a demonstration of my good faith. I understand.”
The ship lurched forward. Daniel glanced out the window, and there it was, the prism-like streaks of hyperspace.
“Nice job.” Jack peered up at Sam. “Any way to tell whether that thing’s taking us farther into Goa’uld territory?”
Sam keyed the HUD. The translucent grid displayed a star map with a series of dashes leading from the center toward a cluster by the top-left corner. “That’s Cassiopeia. From there it’s only 11,000 light-years to home.”
“Its nearest solar system contains a Stargate on the fifth planet that will take you home.”
“Penthos… If that’s really your name…” Daniel sat down on the steps behind the pilot chair. “If you’re Tok’ra, what happened to your host?”
“Haider sacrificed his life so that I could complete our mission,” Penthos whispered. Then, stronger, flatter, he continued. “Several months ago, we infiltrated Anubis’ base on Tartarus —”
Sam gasped. “My god… You’re the spy who gave away the Alpha Site’s coordinates.”
“Never. I would rather die.”
“But you didn’t.” Jack stabbed a finger at the intercom. “You’re still alive. Carter here almost lost her life to one of Anubis’s goons thanks to you. Over a hundred of my men did die, along with a few dozen of your Tok’ra buddies and a slew of Jaffa rebels.”
“O’Neill, it is possible that Anubis probed Penthos’ mind as he did Thor and Jonas Quinn.”
“If what the Jaffa says is true, I am deeply sorry, Colonel. I have no memory of the time between my capture and being placed in the tank controlling this vessel.”
“Which happened how, exactly?” Daniel asked.
Penthos sighed and the ship shuddered in response. “Upon reaching Tartarus, my host and I posed as a minor Goa’uld in the hopes of obtaining intelligence on how the System Lord manufactured his warriors. One of Anubis’s Jaffa discovered our presence as we retrieved vital information from the data banks.”
“And yet you live to tell the tale,” Teal’c said.
“Half of who I was is no more. The other half ensnared in a device of infinite pain. Would you call that living?”
Teal’c bowed his head. “I would not.”
“We used the Jaffa’s zat’ni’katel to render him unconscious, but within moments the room filled with super soldiers. It was Haider who urged me to leave him, to hide within the Jaffa’s pouch until there was a way to escape into another host. He removed the Jaffa’s prim’tah. I protested, but Haider insisted. He knew word of how Anubis engineered the Kull warriors must be sent to our people.
“When Anubis wrenched me from the Jaffa… He could not have known that I was Tok’ra. To him, I was merely a symbiote to do his bidding. To Haider, I was — His final selfless act before dying was to save me, but now… Now I am alone. I am — Ahhhh!”
The deck keeled sideways. Daniel grabbed hold of the central console. Teal’c did the same while Sam gripped her chair. Jack began to tumble out of his, but managed to hold on. Outside, the stars streaked by, but at a more stuttered rate.
“Sam?”
“Something’s wrong with the hyper-drive.” Sam half-walked, half-crawled toward the console as the ship righted itself.
“Penthos?”
“I will not permit Anubis to use me so! Please, you must disconnect me. I cannot separate from the pain.”
Was it physical or had the loss of Penthos’ host become too much? Daniel knew how loss could swallow a person whole, but his experiences had to pale in comparison to losing half of what made a Tok’ra complete.
He turned to Sam. “There’s got to be something you can do.”
“The tank’s tied directly into the main crystal. If I…” She glanced at her backpack and her eyes lit up. “Penthos, do you have any control over the shields blocking access to the drives?”
Penthos didn’t answer.
The ship shuddered a third time and then settled down, its, jagged streaks replaced by smoother, more normal luminescent lines. The hyperspace window had been restored.
“I cannot lower the shields around my tank, but I believe the main compartment can be accessed. Is it possible? Can you end my existence?”
The pleading in his voice tore at Daniel, at a wound barely begun to heal. There were times he wondered whether the Stargate program was really worth all the loss.
Sam snatched up her pack and pulled out the red crystal from Anubis’s clone factory. “If we drop out of hyperspace, I can bypass the tank’s control by replacing the drive’s main crystal. That would at least take some of the stress off Penthos until we can get him to the Tok’ra.”
“Now wait a minute!” Jack pushed himself out of his chair. “Won’t we be sitting ducks?”
“I don’t think so, sir. The minutes we’ve spent in hyperspace should have taken us several light-years away from any threat from Anubis.”
“As far as we know.”
“O’Neill, would not Penthos’ rescue aid our current situation with the Tok’ra?”
“Teal’c’s right, Jack, and whether you like it or not, we need to get you to a doctor.”
Jack collapsed back in the chair. “I suppose.”
Daniel turned back toward the intercom. “Penthos, you haven’t said anything for a while.”
“My life will not end.”
“No.” Daniel recognized it was more a statement than a question, but he answered with as much optimism as he could muster. “If Sam succeeds, we can take you back to the Tok’ra.”
He left out that they’d need to f
ind the Tok’ra first. There’d been no word from any of them since the alliance fell apart. Not even Jacob.
“I ask a favor in return. That someone remain in contact with me while Jacob Carter’s daughter endeavors to bypass the hyper-drive.”
“We’ll take turns,” Daniel promised.
“Then we are in agreement.” A sudden jolt and the ship dropped out of hyperspace.
Jack grinned, barely. Daniel recognized the attempt for what it was: bravado. “Carter, does the intercom work in the cargo hold?”
“It should, sir, but —”
“I’ll go first then.” Jack struggled to his feet again.
Daniel felt his eyebrows shoot up. “You?”
“Sure. Why not? Teal’c, fly this bucket while Daniel helps out Carter. Penthos can keep me company in the cargo hold so we stay out of everybody’s hair.”
With a silent nod, Teal’c sat down at the helm.
Daniel took Jack’s elbow, guiding him up and out of the cockpit. The fact that Jack didn’t resist spoke volumes.
“You’re not exactly at your best, Jack.”
“That’s never stopped me before.”
Daniel pointed at the lens and whispered, “And you hate the Tok’ra.”
“Hate’s a pretty strong word.” Jack didn’t even bother to glance at the lens.
“Well, as far as words go, it fits the —”
“Come on, Penthos.” Jack shrugged off Daniel’s hand and headed for the cargo-hold. “Let’s go chew the fat.”
Daniel watched him leave, hoping Jack would hold back his typical anti-Tok’ra sentiments.
Teal’c turned the ship to face a swollen red giant. The old star hung in space, a bloody ink stain against the black of space. “There are currently no enemy ships in our area.”
“Hopefully, it’ll stay that way.” Sam left for the engine room, her pack slung over her shoulder.
Daniel followed until he heard a crunch beneath his feet. He lifted his boot. Underneath was the broken pencil he’d given Jack. The crossword puzzle book lay beside it.
Stargate SG-1 & Atlantis - Far Horizons Page 23