STARGATE SG-1 29 Hall of the Two Truths

by Susannah Parker Sinard

  By the time Sam got to the top of the stairs she was winded, and the pain in her side was worse. There wasn’t time to stop and catch her breath, but she couldn’t help it. The colonel was almost out the door of the building before he realized she wasn’t right behind him.

  Sam swiftly dropped her hands from the doorframe she’d grabbed for support, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  “You okay?” The colonel eyed her suspiciously.

  She took as deep a breath as she could without wincing and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  His eyes narrowed in skepticism and she waited for the accompanying reproof, but all he said was, “Come on. We gotta move,” and pushed out the door.

  Good. Arguing over whether she was in good enough condition to beat the clock probably wasn’t a productive use of their time anyway.

  When Sam stepped outside, he was waiting. As they retraced their route back toward the Hall, it was evident that the bombardment hadn’t abated in the least. If anything, the attacks had escalated. Only the area in the vicinity of the bunker was unaffected — of course. Aset would have told the Goa’uld where the Ancient technology was kept. They’d have been careful to avoid it.

  There was a certain irony in the fact that the safest place in the whole compound was the one they themselves were about to destroy.

  Breathing became more challenging the closer they got to the main part of the compound. What air she managed to take in made Sam’s lungs burn just that much more. The colonel had been pushing ahead at a steady jog, but stopped when he saw she’d fallen behind again. She hated that she was slowing them down, but each pounding step felt like a knife thrust into her side. Finally she had no choice but to stop.

  Leaning over, Sam put her hands on her knees and coughed. Blood spattered on the ground.

  That wasn’t good.

  A pair of dusty, sandaled feet appeared in her range of vision. Looking up she saw the colonel’s eyes go to the bloody spittle at her feet.

  “Sorry, sir. Go on ahead. I’ll catch up,” she promised, before he could say anything.

  He scowled. “Yeah. I don’t think so. Come on.”

  Reluctantly she let him pull the arm on her good side around his neck, as he had back in the maze. There was no point in protesting. He wouldn’t have listened anyway, and she didn’t have the breath left to argue.

  “Let’s go.” He tried easing her into a moderate gait which, despite his care, still drove spears into her ribs. All of her concentration now was simply focused on not passing out. She was vaguely aware that they were approaching a large building. Was it the Hall already? The colonel’s voice seemed distant, fading. She heard him say ‘No time!’ and ‘Get out of here!’ and then, with a swift, sickening pull she went careening into a darkened doorway.

  She heard a roaring. Part sound, part bone-rattling vibration, it thrummed through her just before the shock wave lifted her off her feet. For an eternity she couldn’t breathe as all the air was sucked away, and then, like a rag doll flung by a petulant child, she was hurled to the floor. Something heavy crashed into her and groaned a curse.

  For one brief, excruciating moment every inch of her throbbed in agony. The space around her spun like a vortex as her vision narrowed. Without further protest, Sam slipped willingly into the darkness.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  THE ATTACK hadn’t lessened any, as far as Daniel could tell, although it didn’t seem to be having much of an impact on the Duat version of the gate room. While debris and dust and the occasional small chunk of rock were dislodged by the nearby explosions, for the most part the room remained undamaged. He pointed this out to Teal’c.

  “I do not believe the Goa’uld are targeting this building, Daniel Jackson. If the Stargate is damaged, they would have no way to send through their Jaffa warriors, who are no doubt waiting for the signal to proceed.”

  Daniel looked involuntarily at the wavering event horizon of the Stargate, as if one of those warriors was about to emerge. But no. They wouldn’t come yet. The ha’tak was still hard at it. When the overhead attack stopped, that’s when they’d have to worry.

  As if there wasn’t already enough to worry about.

  At least the DHD was still intact. Somewhere in the back of his mind Daniel had harbored a fear that they’d get here only to find some chunk of ceiling had smashed the dialing device. Now all he had to do was dial out quicker than the Goa’uld could dial in. Sure. No pressure.

  “I have the utmost confidence in your ability, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c assured him, as if sensing Daniel’s concern. He still had Aset firmly by the arm and was forcibly guiding her to a location away from the gate and out of the sightline of the address for the Alpha Site. Leave it to Teal’c to think of that.

  Watching Aset gloat even now, Daniel found himself wondering what would become of her. He could only imagine the number of people who’d be interested in her if she was brought back to Earth. He’d be surprised if she ever saw sunlight again.

  Once, that would have bothered him more than it did now, especially considering all the time they’d spent together crossing the desert. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that they’d developed a bond, but in the Hall of the Two Truths he had thought, for a while at least, that she had been sincere.

  Obviously not.

  They could, of course, simply leave her behind. If Sam and Jack were able to destroy the Ancient technology, she’d lose the only clout she had with whomever it was up there blasting the Djedu to extinction. Maybe justice would be better served if, when the gate shut down behind SG-1, she was still on this side of it.

  So much for his so-called compassion.

  Maybe he really had been hanging around Jack too much.

  A particularly close hit brought down more bits of the ceiling and the chamber’s high windows rattled precariously. The bombardment was picking up pace. The explosions were nearly nonstop. Daniel couldn’t even imagine what it was like out there. Even through the thick walls of the structure he could hear cries and shouts. At this rate, when the Jaffa finally did make it through the gate, they wouldn’t have much left to do. The Djedu would be wiped out.

  Daniel glanced at Jenmar, standing, dazed, a few feet away. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack had been right about him from the very beginning. Yet, for all the Tok’ra had done, Daniel didn’t get the impression that true malice lay behind it. He was just someone who, somewhere along the line, had lost his way.

  Jenmar must have felt Daniel’s eyes on him because he raised his own to meet his gaze. Daniel could see they were red-rimmed. The Tok’ra looked haggard, his youthful appearance having aged in the course of the past three days.

  “All I ever wanted was peace,” he said, a slight quaver in his voice. “Not this. Never this.”

  Daniel felt sympathy for him. “I believe you.”

  “For decades I had sought the Djedu. There had been stories — legends — that they rejected both the way of the Goa’uld and of the Tok’ra, and sought only their own enlightenment, their own inner-peace.” He wiped at his eyes. “I was so tired of fighting, tired of the relentless subterfuge and sabotage in the conflict between the Tok’ra and the Goa’uld.” His voice broke and Daniel waited as he regained his composure. “At last I found NebtHet and became her follower. Her words… When she spoke, I could hear the same longing that was within me, and I thought, here is someone I can follow. Here is someone who will help me find peace.”

  “You know, sometimes we follow a certain path, or a person, who seems to have the answers we need, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” Daniel wasn’t sure this was going to help, but he had to try. “Eventually, though, we have to take charge of our own destiny, even if means choosing a different way from those we’ve always trusted.”

  “I trusted her.” There was anguish in Jenmar’s voice. “I believed that when the Djedu discovered the secrets of ascension she would share this knowledge with me, and I could join her and the others. But in the end, I
lost faith. And that is no one’s fault but my own.”

  “Fear makes us do all sorts of things we might think we never could — or would.” Daniel glanced at Aset. He had little doubt who had played on Jenmar’s fears. “I’m not saying that what you did wasn’t wrong, but I think I understand how you got there. And in the end, you tried to do the right thing. Believe me, that counts for something.”

  Jenmar shook his head and Daniel understood there was nothing he could say that would ease the Tok’ra’s guilt. There was only one person who could really give Jenmar the absolution he sought, and it was a tough call as to whether NebtHet ever would.

  Cries of fear swelled through the hall as another blast struck, sending tremors through the great room. More and more Djedu were crowding into the ever shrinking space. People continued to run in and out, but what Daniel had initially taken as confusion he now realized was a rescue operation. Teams of Djedu, many of whom he’d seen in the Hall of Judgment, were returning with survivors of the attack. Many were injured. All looked disheveled, frightened and in shock. No sooner was each group brought in than the teams headed out again, despite the fact that the bombardment was picking up in intensity. Those who remained behind, and were able, began tending the injured in their midst.

  Above the growing din, Daniel thought he heard a familiar whine of engines. The staccato of weapons fire and smaller explosions confirmed his fears. Death gliders. Daniel’s eyes met Teal’c’s and he could see the Jaffa had arrived at the same conclusion. Ground troops wouldn’t be far behind.

  Daniel turned back to Jenmar, who’d remained perfectly still in spite of the escalation of the attack. “Which System Lord is responsible for this?” It was a question they hadn’t had time to ask, before. With so many of the Goa’uld vying for position now that Apophis was dead, Daniel could easily think of a handful without trying.

  “I do not know,” Jenmar answered, dully. “I was never told his name.”

  That made no sense. System Lords were never hesitant about declaring their superiority or their intention to seek power. Modesty was not one of their character flaws. “You had to have had a contact,” he persisted. “Someone close to him. If we had a name, we might be able to figure out —”

  The hall was plunged into twilight as the Stargate whooshed and the wormhole vanished.

  Thirty-eight minutes were up.

  “Okay, our turn.” Daniel frantically began dialing the address for the Alpha Site. One by one the symbols lit up on the DHD and the inner ring spun, locking each one in place.

  “Come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, pressing the last panel and leaning on the red orb in the middle. He worried when the last symbol wouldn’t lock at first, but with a loud ker-chunk, it finally slid into place and another wormhole erupted into the chamber. Daniel sagged against the DHD in relief.

  Teal’c came forward, dragging Aset.

  “I knew my confidence was not misplaced, Daniel Jackson.” Teal’c smiled at him as together they stared at the rippling event horizon. Daniel shot him a dubious look.

  “Well, then you’re far more certain than I was.” He studied the wormhole. That little last minute stutter in getting the lock worried him a bit. “I think I did that —”

  “We shall soon see,” replied Teal’c, firming up his grip on Aset. “We should proceed to the Alpha Site as O’Neill instructed.”

  Daniel listened to the now persistent firing from the death gliders outside. Once they found they couldn’t establish an incoming wormhole to Duat, the Goa’uld would begin landing troops. The Djedu would soon be overrun.

  “Listen, Teal’c, you take Aset and go. I’m going to wait here for a while until Jack and Sam make it back. Maybe we can evacuate some of these people before whoever that is up there ends up destroying this whole place.”

  “Those were not our orders, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c pointed out, frowning. Daniel shrugged

  “Yeah, well, you know me and orders, Teal’c.”

  “Then I shall remain as well.”

  “Teal’c, no. Someone’s got to get through to the Alpha Site and —”

  Daniel was pitched to the floor by the most powerful blast yet to roll through the chamber. It jarred his bones, rattling him down to his very teeth. Even his ears were ringing. Around the chamber, everyone else had been thrown to the ground with him, including Teal’c. Amid the muffled cries of fear and alarm, Daniel recognized a distinctive cracking sound. Before he could even look up to confirm his worst fears, the high windows exploded inward, launching the shattered glass across the entire room.

  Daniel covered his head, protecting his face and eyes as the cascade of razor-sharp shards sprayed over him. More cries of pain and terror filled the hall as it was thrown into darkness yet again.

  The blue light was gone. The wormhole had shut down.

  Teal’c was most surprised to find himself on the ground. It had to have been an explosion of enormous force to send him sprawling. No Goa’uld mothership could have caused such an impact without making a direct hit, and as far as he could tell, the building was still structurally intact. The only reasonable conclusion, therefore, was that O’Neill and Major Carter had been successful in their attempt to destroy the Ancient technology.

  Looking around, Teal’c saw that everyone had been knocked to the floor, including Daniel Jackson. As his friend picked himself up, shaking off bits of shattered glass, he looked Teal’c’s way. Reflected in his face, Teal’c could see the same concern he too felt for the safety of O’Neill and Major Carter. Apparently Daniel Jackson had surmised the cause of the explosion as well.

  Realizing that his left hand was now empty, Teal’c looked around for Aset. She had been thrown to the ground with him. He remembered her cry of fright as the glass pelted her from overhead. Amidst all the crying and dazed occupants of the hall, however, he could not see her. Several bodies remained motionless on the ground and Teal’c hurried to check them. Most were dead. None were Aset.

  She had escaped.

  Anger at his own carelessness burned in his chest. He should have been more attentive, gripped her more tightly. Being caught off-guard by the explosion was no excuse for allowing her to reclaim her freedom. She would have been a valuable prisoner from which they might have learned much.

  He was tempted to go in search of her, but there was no time. They must reopen the Stargate before the Goa’uld could dial in.

  At least they had been fortunate in that the DHD had not sustained any damage. A massive metal window frame had narrowly missed crushing it; however the frame now leaned precariously across the top of the device, blocking access to the keypad. It was too big to move alone. “Daniel Jackson, I require your assistance.”

  “Uh, Teal’c, not right now —”

  Daniel Jackson was kneeling on the ground. He had torn off more of his already ragged pant leg and was attempting to use it to apply pressure to a large gash in Jenmar’s neck. Teal’c could see the effort was futile. Blood was quickly soaking the cloth and Daniel Jackson’s hands as Jenmar’s face turned deathly gray. Not even the symbiote within could heal such a wound. On the floor beside him, Teal’c saw the bloodied piece of glass which had pierced the Tok’ra’s artery. There was no helping him now.

  Teal’c squatted beside Daniel Jackson. “His injury is grave. I fear there is nothing that can be done.” He glanced up at the silent chappa’ai. “It is more important that we reopen the Stargate.”

  Daniel Jackson nonetheless continued his efforts and Teal’c knew he would not stop until all hope was gone. It would not take long.

  Jenmar’s eyes fluttered open and Teal’c saw that he knew only too well that death was near. But instead of the fear he was accustomed to witnessing on the faces of men in such circumstance, this Tok’ra showed only relief. With a trembling hand which he could barely raise, Jenmar reached over and weakly pulled Daniel Jackson’s arm away, stopping his ministrations.

  “No more, please,” he whispered, his voice
rattling as fluid filled his throat. “I welcome death.”

  Daniel Jackson said nothing but grasped the still reaching hand in his own. “I’m sorry.”

  Jenmar managed a barely perceptible shake of his head.

  “This is best,” he gasped. “Please, just tell NebtHet that I died her humble servant —”

  The Tok’ra closed his eyes and with one final, release of breath was gone.

  Daniel Jackson sighed deeply, sinking back to the ground, his hands still covered in the Tok’ra’s blood.

  “Now is not the time to mourn, Daniel Jackson.” Under normal circumstances Teal’c would have respected his friend’s need to grieve over what had just transpired, but such sentiments would have to wait. “We have lost the connection to the Alpha Site. It must be re-established before the Goa’uld can dial in again and prevent our escape.”

  Daniel Jackson appeared weary, but he allowed Teal’c to pull him back to his feet and staggered over to the DHD.

  “When we get this cleared off, you go through,” Daniel Jackson told him as they struggled to shift the heavy frame off the DHD. “I’m waiting for Jack and Sam.”

  “That was a powerful explosion, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c reminded him, solemnly. As much as he hated the thought, the likelihood that their friends were still alive were slim. “We must face the possibility that they did not survive.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t go and count us out just yet, T.” O’Neill, supported by Major Carter, was limping toward them through the debris. O’Neill’s knee appeared injured and Major Carter was struggling under the colonel’s weight, although she made no complaint. With a final push, Teal’c heaved the window frame to the floor, hurrying to take her place as O’Neill’s crutch. The gesture earned him a brief, grateful smile before she placed her hands to her ribs and winced.

  “Are you injured, Major Carter?”