by Stargate
To hell with bad tidings. She was in no mood for bad tidings. Rule Number One of the O’Neill Survival Handbook: Never. Say. Die.
“Dad, we can’t just leave them, we can’t abandon them to Heru’ur! Heru’ur knows us! God knows what he’ll do to them if they’re discovered among the villagers! We have to find them. Boaz and Mikah, too. They want to fight the Goa’uld.”
“Sam,” her father said gently. “Of course we’re going to find Jack and Daniel. Your two recruits, as well. We just can’t do it now.”
She wanted to hit him, hard, to pound him with her fists until he did what she wanted. “If we don’t do it now we might never do it at all!”
“That’s not true,” he said sharply. “We have operatives in Heru’ur’s hierarchy. As soon as we can we’ll make contact with them. Find out where Jack, Daniel and the others have been taken. Then we’ll come up with a rescue plan.”
She pulled away from him, fury over-riding her fear. “If you’ve got operatives undercover in Heru’ur’s empire then why the hell didn’t they warn you of this attack? Why did they let it happen in the first place, didn’t they know we were here?”
From the flight deck, Martouf’s calm and measured voice. “No, Samantha, they did not. Information about ongoing missions is kept strictly secret from our undercover operatives, in the event they are discovered and for whatever reason cannot self-terminate. It would be disastrous if they could be made to divulge what they know.”
Of course. Of course. Hell. She was out of control, letting her fears dictate her actions. The colonel would bite her head off if he could hear her now. God, Sam, stop being such a girl. She took a moment to breathe, just breathe, and regain her equilibrium.
“I get that, Martouf,” she said, when she was her soldier-self again. “What I don’t get is why you chose this farm in the first place when you knew it could be raided!”
“Sam, we didn’t know,” her father said. Now he sounded hurt. “Do you think I’d have risked you if I thought this moon could be raided? Heru’ur and Yu have a non-aggression treaty. At least they did. Obviously, Heru’ur has broken it.”
“And none of your undercover operatives knew?”
“Clearly not. Or they would’ve sent word.”
“Would they?” The words came out far more bitterly than she’d intended. Right now she didn’t care. She was starting to think the colonel had the right idea. Never trust a snake…
“Sam…” Her father rested his hand on her shoulder. “Please. Let’s save the recriminations for later, okay? We’ve got more important things to worry about.” His gaze shifted, past her to the women and the crying babies behind her. “So. Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”
He was right, again. Dammit.
She turned. Pointed. “This is Berez. This is Qualah. I’ll introduce you to the babies later. We were in the babyhouse when the Jaffa attacked.”
“Okay,” said her father. Smiling now, summoning all his considerable charm. “Ladies. Welcome. My name is Jacob, and I’m Sam’s father. I’m sorry you’ve had such an alarming morning and I wish I could offer you somewhere comfortable to collect your thoughts. But as you can see…” He indicated the spartan cargo hold with its makeshift beds. “We’re not exactly five-star.”
From the look on Qualah’s face, speech was beyond her. But Berez stepped forward, still jiggling her grizzly infants, and said, frowning, “She told us her name was Serena.”
“I lied, Berez,” Sam said. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not a slave.”
“Far from it. I belong to a group who want to end human slavery.”
Berez’s chin lifted and her eyes lit with a fervor that burned her fear and exhaustion to ash. “I want to end it too. How can I help?”
“Your third recruit, Sam?” her father said, smiling. “Way to go, kid.”
“Jacob!” Martouf called. “The al’kesh are moving!”
As her father joined him, Sam turned to Berez. “I know you have questions. I’ll answer them later, I promise. For now, please, you and Qualah just stay back here and mind the children.”
“We are safe now?” said Qualah. She looked ready to drop from fear and exhaustion.
“You’re safe. And whatever happens, you’ll never be slaves again.”
Berez nodded, tears filling her eyes. “I like your father, Serena. He has a good face.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, backing away. “I like him too. He has a great face.”
Turning away, she wiped the women and children from her mind and hurried onto the flight deck.
After transporting her, the women and the babies aboard, Martouf had shot the re-cloaked tel’tac into a low orbit round Panotek. Below them, oblivious to their presence, two of the three Goa’uld raiders sat silently waiting. As she watched, the third approached from the moon’s surface and joined the others.
“They still have not seen us,” said Martouf. “Our cloak is holding.” His hand reached out. “I will see if we can intercept their communica—”
“No,” said her father, grabbing Martouf’s wrist. “We’re too close. If they pick up a glitch and realize we’re on top of them, listening—”
Helpless, they could do nothing but observe as the three armed ships, loaded with stolen humans, broke from their holding pattern and eased away. Three pin-points of purple light blossomed as each one opened a hyperspace window. The al’kesh accelerated.
Going… going… gone.
“It’s not over, Sam,” her father said, his hands hard on her shoulders. “I promise you, kiddo. It’s far from over.”
Martouf said, “We should return to the surface, Jacob. Rescue any humans Heru’ur’s Jaffa failed to capture or kill.”
“Good idea,” her father said. “Especially since there’s a chance Jack and Daniel are among them. Or Sam’s other recruits.”
So they returned to the village centre. Martouf stayed on the tel’tac while Sam and her father ringed down. They found twelve survivors huddled in the ruins of the meeting hall, most of them injured, all of them mute with shock and pain. The colonel and Daniel weren’t among them. Neither were Boaz or Mikah.
“We should search the whole settlement, Dad,” said Sam. “They could be hiding anywhere.”
“We’ll split up,” said her father. “I’ll check the fields, you check the buildings and workhouses. Keep your communicator on and let’s make it fast. I don’t want to hang around here any longer than we have to.”
The babyhouse had been emptied of children. Sam found six dead women there; they’d been trying to protect the infants. Swallowing nausea, banishing grief, she kept on looking.
Her communicator clicked. “How’s it going, Sam?”
“Nothing but bodies so far, Dad.”
“Same here.”
Heavy-hearted, wracked with fear, she kept on looking. Every time she found another man’s body she had to nerve herself to turn it over. Steel herself for the unbearable. In her head a never-ending chant: Please don’t be dead, guys. Please don’t be dead.
She reached the poultry barns. Found Boaz and Mikah.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, and didn’t try to stop the tears. “Oh, damn…”
Leaving them was hard but she was running out of time. Done with shouting through the fields and the crops, her father joined her and they finished searching the village’s houses and barns and work sheds.
The colonel and Daniel were nowhere to be found. Dead or alive.
“I’m sorry, kiddo,” her father said, holding her close. “But I promise: we’ll find them.”
They couldn’t bury Heru’ur’s victims. Sooner or later Lord Choulai would come, to find out why Hol’c had ceased communications. If he found buried bodies instead of rotting flesh, questions would be raised. And they couldn’t afford Goa’uld questions.
Together they freed all the animals still penned in barns and yards and paddocks. The livestock could fend for itself. Then they returned to the tel
’tac, taking the twelve shell-shocked survivors with them.
“Okay, Martouf,” said her father, sliding into the co-pilot’s seat. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Sam sat with Berez and Qualah and the other refugees on the floor of the crowded cargo hold. Eyes closed, numb and drained, she held the sleeping baby Berez had pushed into her arms.
Somewhere… somewhere… the colonel and Daniel waited.
Hang in there guys. I’m coming. I’m coming.
Chapter Sixteen
Jittery with nerves and impatience, George Hammond stood at the base of the ’gate ramp and stared at the tranquil blue surface of the wormhole, his face still tingling from the aftermath of its event horizon’s violent blooming.
Come on, come on, come on…
The shimmering puddle rippled and parted, and there they were at last: Jacob, Sam, Teal’c and Martouf. Sam was out of uniform, dressed in roughspun skirt and blouse. Physically she looked unhurt, but her face was tight with tension. So was Teal’c’s—not something you saw every day. Stepping through the ’gate behind them came two of the most extraordinarily beautiful women Hammond had ever seen in his life. Both were pregnant. Accompanying the women came two more Tok’ra, operatives he’d never met, each guiding an anti-grav sled. From inside the sleds, the wails of indignant babies.
Wonderful. Now I’m starting up a nursery.
“I’m sorry, George,” said Jacob, quietly, as the wormhole dispersed with its familiar whooshing, sucking sound. “The mission just blew up in our faces.”
He was furious, and made no bones about letting Jacob see it. “We’ll discuss this in the briefing room. Dr. Fraiser?”
Janet Fraiser stepped forward. “Sir?”
“See to our… guests.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sam turned to the apprehensive women she’d brought back to Earth with her. “Berez, Qualah, this is Janet. She’s a very good friend of mine and she loves babies. She understands everything about healing and she’s going to take really good care of you and the children. So you go with her now and I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”
“Hi there,” said Dr. Fraiser, coming forward with her trademark dazzling smile. “I’ll just bet both of you are dying to get off your feet.”
“It’s okay, I promise,” said Sam, as the women looked to her, dazed and uncertain. “You’re safe. Choulai will never find you here.”
As the med team came forward to usher the women and the Tok’ra with the crying grav sleds out of the ’gate room and down to the infirmary, the doctor touched Sam on the shoulder.
“And I want to see you, too,” she murmured. “Just as soon as you’re finished with the general.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll try, Janet.”
Dr. Fraiser raised her eyebrows. “It wasn’t a suggestion, Major.”
“She’ll report to you before she leaves, Doctor,” Hammond said briskly. “You have my word. Now—the briefing room. I want to know what happened.”
It was a grim story, quickly told.
“And you had absolutely no idea Heru’ur was planning this raid,” he said, when Jacob had finished talking.
“George,” said Jacob, looking pained.
“The President is going to ask me, Jacob,” he said. “So I have to ask you.”
Jacob lifted his hands. “I know. I know.”
He was in no mood to be placated. “The Tok’ra should have mentioned the possibility of a raid when this mission was originally suggested.”
“We did not deem its mention necessary,” said Martouf. “The treaty between Yu and Heru’ur—”
“Isn’t worth the papyrus it was written on now, is it?” Hammond snapped. “Excuse me if I seem a little put out, Martouf, but once again it’s my people in the line of fire because your people asked for our help. From where I sit it’s beginning to look like standard Tok’ra operating procedure.”
“Trust me, George,” said Jacob. “We’re no happier about this than you are.”
“Well, I’m relieved to hear that! Now what are your people doing to get my people home safe?”
Sam leaned forward across the table. She looked exhausted. “Sir, Daniel may still have his communicator. We’re waiting for him to make contact. Obviously it’s too dangerous for us to try contacting him.”
“And Colonel O’Neill? Does he have his communicator?”
“I don’t know,” she said, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. We weren’t supposed to be carrying them on us at all, in case we were searched by a Jaffa. But you know Daniel. Orders are things that happen to other people.”
“For which we should be profoundly grateful,” said Teal’c. His gaze was a molten glower. “If he is still alive, and if the communicator is still in his possession, it may be our only hope of finding him and O’Neill.”
“I have no intention of assuming they’re anything but alive,” Hammond said firmly. “We are talking rescue, people, not recovery. And most certainly not abandonment.” He looked at Jacob. “What about your spies in Heru’ur’s ranks? What can they tell you?”
Jacob looked uncomfortable. “Nothing. At least not yet. Getting word to them is a delicate, dangerous operation. I’ve started several balls rolling, George, but I can’t tell you when we’ll hear anything. I hate to say it, but our best bet right now is Daniel. If he manages to make contact—”
“Don’t your communicators contain signal-lock technology? A way to trace their position?”
“Yes, but only if they are activated,” said Martouf. “And not over a vast distance. We would need to be in the vicinity of his location to pinpoint his exact whereabouts.”
Hammond took a moment to think, resting his gaze on his folded hands. “All right,” he said at last, looking up. “Best case scenario. We hear from Dr. Jackson or one of your operatives. Our people are alive and haven’t been identified as members of SG-1. How do we get them home again?”
“If they are to be rescued from within Heru’ur’s empire, General Hammond, it must be by the forces of the SGC,” said Martouf. “The Tok’ra cannot risk large numbers of personnel on such a dangerous mission. Its chances of success are not high.”
Hammond looked at the man, just looked at him. Until he looked away. “I should be surprised to hear that,” he said. “But somehow, I’m not. Jacob—”
“I’m sorry, George. Martouf’s right,” said Jacob. “We’re spread thinner than Saran Wrap as it is. But we’ll give you all the assistance we can. Transport, if it’s needed. Intelligence. Mission planning. And you know I’m with you, you know I’ll do whatever it takes to get Jack and Daniel away from Heru’ur.”
“As will I,” said Martouf. “General Hammond, please do not mistake my reserve for indifference. I have nothing but respect and admiration for the Tauri—Colonel O’Neill and Dr. Jackson in particular. I will not abandon them to a Goa’uld. You have my word.”
Slowly, he nodded. “So. It’s a waiting game.”
“Yes, sir,” said Sam. “And while we’re waiting, we’ll put together a range of rescue options for your approval. Which means I’d like to do the waiting on Vorash. Take advantage of Tok’ra intelligence on Heru’ur’s operations. Plus it means we’ll be on the spot should Daniel or a Tok’ra operative make contact.”
“Agreed, Major. I want you on point with the planning. In the meantime I’ll see that SG teams 2, 4, 5 and 11 are prepped and ready for a go on your signal.”
A little of the strain eased from her face. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Then as soon as you’re given a clean bill of health by Dr. Fraiser, you and Teal’c will return to Vorash with your father and Martouf. Are there any questions?”
There were no questions, so Hammond dismissed them. But at the doorway, once the others had left the room, Jacob paused and turned back.
“George…”
Still seated, he looked up to meet the apprehensive gaze of his oldest friend in the service. “It’s ironic, isn’t it, Jacob?
I pulled strings and twisted arms and called in favors to save Jack from Robert Kinsey… and in doing so, I delivered him into the hands of a Goa’uld who equally has no cause to love him.”
Jacob stepped closer. “It’s not your fault, George. And it’s not mine, either. It’s just one of the risks we take when we step through that damned Stargate. Jack knew that. So did Daniel.”
Hammond allowed himself a very small and unpleasant smile. “Careful, Jacob. You’re using the past tense.”
Jacob slammed the door behind him.
Janet was still busy with the babies when Sam presented herself for inspection. So she took a seat on an empty bed, trying to ignore her aches and pains and the ocean of worry churning inside her.
Teal’c had insisted on coming to the infirmary with her, and she didn’t try to dissuade him. She appreciated the company. Right now the two of them were SG-1. Without Teal’c she’d really be alone.
It was a horrible thought.
Seated on a chair beside her bed he said, as sombre as she’d ever seen him, “I feel most…” He searched for a word. “Helpless, Major Carter. It is a strange sensation. I am not prepared to endure it for long.”
Sam dredged up a smile for him. “I feel the same way, believe me.”
“I have been feeling this way since you departed Vorash for Yu’s breeding farm.” He frowned. “I should not have permitted myself to be persuaded to stay behind.”
“I’m with you there,” she agreed. “And I’m sorry. I’ve had so much other stuff on my mind I haven’t stopped to think how you must be feeling.”
“By ‘other stuff’, you are referring to O’Neill’s difficulty in reconciling the events on Euronda?”
“Yeah. He and Daniel are back to tap-dancing on eggshells around each other.”
“I see.”
Sam sighed. “They didn’t let it get in the way of the mission but the tension’s there, Teal’c. Under the surface. It’s like waiting for a really big bad storm to break. But they’ll get through it,” she added, with far more confidence than she felt. “They always do.”