"That, and we've got a construction crew," Daniel pointed out; the crowd had surged ahead of them, moving stones, clearing streets of rubble. Eseios worked as construction boss, cheerfully tossing out instructions and orders, adding his muscle-bound strength to moving the larger obstructions. "Kind of nice, to see them working together."
It wouldn't last, Jack thought, but he kept it to himself. Brotherly love and cooperation never did. Still, if Eseios could forge some kind of community out of this, some kind of purpose... maybe it wouldn't ever be the Great City again, but it'd be a pretty okay one.
Midday arrived with picnics in the streets. People met, talked, exchanged memories of home. They were separating into tribes already, Jack noticed - drawn by common backgrounds. Well, he couldn't judge them. He sat with his own tribe, all uniformed in olive drab, and finished up the last of the rations.
By the time they made the Stargate it had moved from picnic to parade to street festival, with singing and clapping and dancing; kids yelled and waved rags and chased each other around, if they had the strength. Even the thinnest looked just a little healthier.
And the sun seemed to shine harder, just for a while.
Carter dropped the control crystal into the DHD and made some adjustments, then conferred with Daniel for a few minutes. They started with the `gate address for Sikyon.
It took the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening, to get everyone moved out who was planning to go.
By full dark, they were standing with a hundred or so, including Briseis and Eseios and most of the Dark Company.
"Moonrise," Briseis said, watching it happen. "I will be able to tell my baby stories of a time it was not beautiful, to see it come."
"Wait a while on the storytelling," Jack advised. "And keep an eye on the sarcophagus."
"It will not open," she promised. "We will see to that. And I think her brother will come to accept it, in time."
Eseios handed over something from a bag at his side... Jack made out the metal shape in the dim light, and the Velcro fastenings.
"Ah. Was going to ask about that," he said, and slid the GDO on his wrist, cinching it tight. "Take care of these people."
"Take care of yours," Eseios said, and offered his hand. Jack gripped it. "I will see you again, Jack O'Neill."
Daniel went to the DUD and started to enter the coordinates back to the SGC. Jack stopped him with an outstretched hand.
"What?"
"We're not going home," he said. "One more thing to do."
"Okay... ?"
He motioned Eseios over, and asked for a favor.
When the wormhole opened, it opened to Chalcis.
The airport looked absolutely the same: full of chattering travelers, government worker bees, dark-tunic security. Jack clumped down the steps to the first security tunic he saw, grabbed it by a bunched handful of cloth, and said, "Acton. Get him. Now"
"Jack - " Daniel was watching him anxiously, with a frown grooved deep. Carter wasn't second-guessing him, but he saw the doubt in her eyes, too. Lots of civilians here. Lots of collaterals to be damaged.
The security man, eyes wide, ran to somebody who must have been a superior, who dispatched a courier. Jack led SG-1 to the shade of the bar, thumped his MP5 down on the table, and sat down with a sigh. Painkillers were a fond memory. In fact, he was just about down to zero on every level, including patience.
"Jack, what are we doing here?" Daniel asked. "Shouldn't we get back, report to General Hammond...?"
"Sure," Jack agreed, and held up a hand to snap fingers at the bartender. "Only we don't need to go home to do that."
"We don't?"
Jack keyed his tac vest radio. "SG-2, this is SG-1, over." No response. "Sierra Golf Two Niner, this is Sierra Golf One Niner, respond."
And then the radio blurted static, and Major Dave Dixon's voice came back, clipped and warm with relief. "Sierra Golf One Niner, this is Sierra Golf Two Niner, and pardon my French, Jack, but where the hell have you been?"
"Oh, here and there, Dix. We're hanging at the airport. Join us."
"On our way."
Jack clicked off. His team was staring at him in varying degrees of surprise and confusion.
"SOP," he said. "Backup plan, remember? SG-2's been looking for us."
"How did you know they'd still be here?" Carter asked. "A search and rescue mission should have already determined we were gone, nothing to rescue..."
"It's Dixon," Jack shrugged. "He's a digger. No matter what kind of story Acton cooked up, Dixon would have smelled a rat."
"But he's acting against orders!"
"It's Dixon. And he owes me a couple, Captain."
She shook her head. The bartender, who was looking scared to death, finally ventured over and dropped off four glasses at the table. Daniel picked his up and turned it in his fingers, then sipped at the contents.
So did Teal'c, who put it back down. "There is alcohol," he said.
"Damn right," Jack said, and looked up at the sound of booted feet running outside. "Yo! Dixon!"
"Colonel." Major Dixon pushed in and shook his hand, then nodded to each of them in turn. He was a big man, with sharp dark eyes and an off-kilter smile. "Knew you'd be back, sir."
"Major, your orders were to report back to the SGC..." Jack checked his watch. "Sixteen hours ago, by my count."
"Technical difficulties, sir. With the Stargate."
"That would be the Stargate they're currently sending people through right now, out there in the airport ...?"
"It's an intermittent problem, sir. Our dialing coordinates don't seem to want to sync up properly." Dixon's bright eyes stayed steady. "Sorry to say it, sir, but you guys look like crap."
"Must look better than we feel... did you talk to a snaky little bastard named Acton? Big head cheese guy? About so tall, gray hair...?"
Dixon's geek - Baldwin? Balinsky? - cleared his throat and said, "I did, sir. He claimed that you stayed for a couple of days, parted on good terms, and decided to visit one of the other worlds in the Confederacy. He claimed not to know which one. We spent a couple of days traveling around looking before we came back here." He nodded at Daniel. "Dr. Jackson."
"Dr. Balinsky."
"Isn't this place amazing?... You saw the Acropolis? I mean, what a thrill! It's just..." Balinsky had the light of a true convert. Daniel's answering stare was darker. Quieter.
"Yes," he said. "It's amazing. And I've seen... a couple of them now."
When Balinsky opened his mouth to ask details, Dixon cut him off. "Where'd you go, sir, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Debrief later. I need a favor."
"Anything, Colonel."
Jack smiled, and explained things.
Half an hour later, they heard the sound of tramping footsteps. Acton must have taken the express chariot from the city, or he'd been close; he and his cronies appeared in the doorway, and Acton's expression wiped completely blank at the sight of SG-1 sitting at the table, sipping tropical drinks with SG-2.
Dixon slammed down his drink with the ease of a man who'd been in plenty of saloons, and SG-2 moved into position, surrounding Acton's bodyguards.
"Hey there," Jack said. He stood up, and SG-1 came with him as a unit. "Got something to show you. Let's take a little walk, Acton."
"I do not understand your language - " Acton began coldly, and then realized he did. Dixon looked confused. He and Balinsky exchanged a look. "You have learned to speak well, stranger."
"Actually not. But whatever." Jack grabbed hold of his shoulder and steered him out of the bar. "I'd like you to pay a little diplomatic visit. And then I'm going to want you to drop around to Mycenae and Delphi and Sikyon, and get them to pay a little diplomatic visit."
Acton was still trying to pretend he had the upper hand as they emerged in the bright sunlight. Daniel darted ahead with Teal'c and Carter behind him, more or less gently moved the airport employee doing the dialing out of the way, and entered coordinates. The w
ormhole activated, belched, settled.
"Diplomatic visit?" Acton said slowly. "To... your world? I am not prepared..."
"No need. You're not going to my world. Oh, and you won't need any food, or any water, or any clothes." Jack walked him up the steps with an arm around his shoulders. All of the warmth dropped out of his voice, and his hand on Acton's shoulder blade gripped hard enough to bruise. "You know, kind of like the way you sent all of those other people through here to die. You're going where you sent us. Have a nice trip."
"No - " Acton must have known; his eyes were wide and horrorstricken. "No! You cannot do this! She demands tribute, we have sent it - I was not chosen! What do you want of me?"
Jack just smiled, and said, "Say hi to your goddess for me."
And then he put a boot in Acton's ass and sent him flailing through the wormhole. When he turned back, SG-2 was facing out, MP5s aimed at the security guys, who were standing with spears half-raised and looking worried.
"No problem," he assured them. "Fact-finding mission. He'll be back."
The gate collapsed in a flicker of blue.
"Well, sir, that was sure fun," Dixon said. "Can we go home now? Because I'm overdue picking up the kid from camp."
He sounded casual, but Dave Dixon was anything but. Jack nodded to Daniel, who entered -finally - the coordinates for home, and hit the red ball to activate the cycle.
He sent the GDO code, motioned to Dix to send his as well, just in case, and they took a short trip through a long, long womlhole.
Infirmary .
Doc Warner - who wasn't as bad as most of the doctors Jack had encountered, in his years of service - had prescribed him bed rest for two days, and painkillers that Jack had decided, after all, to do without. He read magazines. Made hand puppets out of spare socks. Kind of enjoyed watching his bruises fade.
When he woke up on the second day, he found Daniel sitting next to him, reading a book that looked like it was written in Greek.
"Hey," Jack said, and cleared his throat. "Reading anything good?"
"Iphigenia in Tauris," Daniel said. "Euripides."
"So, reading anything good... Never mind. How's Carter? Teal'c?"
"Sam had some kind of allergic reaction to the drinks back on Chalcis," Daniel said, and his eyebrows went up. Way up. "Ah, delayed reaction. Didn't really hit her until we were in the debrief"
"Is she -
"She's fine. Embarrassed, that's all." Jack made a come on, give gesture. "She climbed up on the table."
"You're kidding. And?"
"Well..." Daniel drew the word out to four syllables. "I really don't think I should say."
Jack was enchanted. "Oh, now you know you have to say."
"Jack."
"C'mon, Daniel, a little starved for entertainment here... give. What happened?"
In typical Daniel fashion, he backed up and steered around the question. "Teal'c got her down, brought her to Doc Warner, and he gave her some kind of test. Turned out that she had a specific reaction to some kind of fruit in the drink. He gave her a shot, she was fine."
"Carter did something embarrassing, and I slept through it?"
"Apparently."
"Please God tell me you're kidding."
"Would I do that?" Daniel had the innocent look down pat. When he got like that, there was no way to tell truth from fiction. Jack glared at him and made a mental note to check with Teal'c. And Carter. She could run, no way could she hide.
"Anything else?" Jack asked.
"General Hammond agreed to send a shipment through to Pylades and Eseios. Food, medical supplies, clothing, blankets - refugee supplies. Dixon and SG-2 took it through. Apparently, Eseios already has rebuilding plans. Quite an operation, so they say." Daniel put the book aside and rubbed his hands together. "I made it very clear that what Sam and I did, taking the poison... it wasn't by your order, Jack."
Jack sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up, testing his ankle. Warner had put it into a huge, clumsy black boot, pumped up with air; he felt like the Michelin Man. At least it matched the BDUs.
"Yeah, been meaning to say something about that," he said without meeting Daniel's eyes. "If you ever pull that crap again - "
Daniel didn't answer, or at least, not directly. "Dr. Warner wants us to talk to some kind of psychologist."
"Screw that."
"When I said wants us to, it was really more of an order."
"Not doing it." This wasn't the kind of thing that he could talk about, except with... with his team. "How about the four of us and a pitcher of beer instead?"
Daniel's eyebrows went up and stayed there. "I'll give it a try."
Jack jerked a thumb at the phone on the wall. "Call Teal'c and Carter."
It took more like three pitchers, but eventually the talking started.
And it didn't stop.
Some elements of this story are taken from Euripides' brilliant play Iphigenia in Tauris, which Daniel is reading in the infirmary. References to the team's visit to P3X-595, and to Captain Carter's removal of... something... can be found in the Stargate: SGI episode "Emancipation."
Anything screwed up in the course of this story is entirely the fault of the author, as she had excellent references, assistance, and genuine military types to tell her when she was in danger of going wrong. Not to mention outstanding editorial help.
Thanks for stepping through the Stargate with me.
Julie Fortune
Original novels based on the hit TV shows, STARGATE SGI and STARGATE ATLANTIS
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For more information, visit www.stargatenovels.com
STARGATE SG-1 © 1997-2006 MGM Television Entertainment Inc. and MGM Global Holdings, Inc. STARGATE SG-I is a trademark of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios, Inc. All Rights Reserved. STARGATE: ATLANTIS © 2004-2006 MGM Global Holdings, Inc. STARGATE: ATLANTIS is a trademark of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
SNEAK PREVIEW
STARGATE SGI : A MATTER OF HONOR
by Sally Malcolm
COMING SOON!
he whispered conversation of his friends was the only noise in the vast chamber as Jack stalked through the forest of pillars, searching for a way out that didn't involve a return trip through last year's Halloween special. Clutching white fingers in the dark, coming out of nowhere... How the hell had they managed to creep up on him like that? No sound. Not a single sound.
He shivered; the place gave him the creeps. The whole damn city stank of decay and something worse. There was evil here. Not just the ancient evil of the palace's creator, but something else. A sense of dread that was all too alive.
Keeping his P90 raised, he turned a slow three-sixty as he walked. Shadows streamed out from the pillars, wide and slovenly in the diffuse light cast by the gaudy ceiling. But there was nothing there, no monsters hiding in the darkness. No ghosts.
He glanced up at the mosaic that was so enthralling Daniel. The face of the god wasn't familiar; it didn't wear the neat, trimmed beard of an urban sophisticate or possess the flat, dead eyes of a psychopath. Jack looked away and banished the thought - memory was a distraction. The danger was here, not in the past. His throat still burned from the fingers of the man - creature - who'd attacked him on the stairs. He had no desire to run into Skinny Legs and his creeping compadres again.
He checked his watch - six minutes left. It wasn't nearly long enough for Carter to get what she needed, but he was too antsy to lurk in this maze of shadows longer than absolutely--
A scuffing sound behind him yanked his heart up into his throat. Spinning around, finger on trigger, he scanned the shadows and pillars. He didn't breathe, straining to hear over the hammering in his chest.
Nothing.
Damn it! The shadows were deep here, back towards the wall of the chamber, dark and deep. Tension ran across his skin, crawling up onto his scalp as he backed slowly away from the ghost of a sound. Head towards the light, towards the guys, towards--<
br />
Fingers brushed his shoulder. He jerked around so hard he almost lost his balance. Only twenty years in the field kept him from firing. A figure, half lost in darkness, stood before him. Baal! Shit.
Fear clouded his eyes, suffocated him.
Baal!
His hands shook, his voice was dry and useless. But he stood his ground and faced the nightmare that had haunted him ever since he'd--
Wait...
Sluggishly, reason clawed through the panic. Baal hiding alone in shadows? No Jaffa? Baal dressed in Kinahhi robes? Like lightening in slow-motion, realization struck. It's not him.
"Get out where I can see you," Jack rasped, "or I'll put a bullet in your head."
The figure moved, tall and slender, but not him. Not him. And not white like the creatures who'd attacked them on the stairs. It was a man, and as he emerged from the shadows Jack's breath caught in surprise. "Quadesh? What the hell--"
The Kinahhi councilor raised a narrow finger to his lips and whispered. "No one can know I am here, Colonel O'Neill. My life depends upon it."
Still sick with receding panic Jack lowered his voice, but not his weapon, and said, "You've got thirty seconds before I start yelling. You've been following us. Why?"
A hint of a smile wavered across the man's face. "You did not really think you could evade our security so easily, Colonel?" When Jack didn't respond, Quadesh simply shrugged and added, "I hid your escape from my superiors. Had I not done so, you would all now be in custody. Or worse."
"And you did that because...?"
"Because I believe I can trust you, Colonel. And I think you may already suspect that all is not well here on Kinahhi."
"We got an inkling," Jack admitted, still staring at the man over the barrel of his gun. He didn't feel like lowering it. "Why don't you keep talking?"
Quadesh paused, as if marshalling an inner strength. At length he appeared to make a decision, both hands twisting around a slim metal tube he clutched like a talisman. "Although the Security Council talks of dissenters, Colonel, there is no real dissent on Kinahhi. No freedom of thought or expression. The sheh fet sees to that - anyone harboring seditious thoughts simply disappears."
Stargate SG-1: Sacrifice Moon Page 23