SG1-16 Four Dragons

by Botsford, Diana

  Sam had shared enough for him and Selmak to be disgusted by Anubis’ eradication of Abydos. The planet and its people had been a shining light for the Tok’ra, their ability to find it within themselves to rebel against the System Lord Ra an amazing feat that stirred Tok’ra hearts to take bolder steps against the Goa’uld.

  Clink.

  Jacob cleared his throat, hoping to get Jack off whatever was troubling him and back onto the matter at hand. Lord Yu was a minor nuisance compared to the larger threat of Anubis. They needed to retrieve Dr. Jackson and get on with the fight.

  “Any news from Dr. Frasier yet?” he asked.

  Snap. “Nope. Not yet.”

  “It’s going to be fine, Jack. You’ll get in there, you’ll get Daniel, and you’ll be back in time for the July 4th fireworks.”

  Jack looked up, a sardonic grin on his face. “And here I forgot to buy my little flag to wave.”

  “Jesus, Jack. If you’re going to be pissed, be pissed at Yu.”

  Jack turned back to the lighter, turning it over in his hand a few times before flipping it open once more.

  Clink.

  “The Goa’uld took Daniel,” Jacob said. “Now you guys can go kick his butt.”

  He still blames himself, thought Selmak.

  Talk about stating the obvious.

  Snap.

  Jacob grabbed the lighter out of Jack’s hand.

  “That’s mine, thank you.” Jack snatched it back.

  Jacob frowned. “You can’t protect your team twenty-four/seven and you know it. It doesn’t work that way.”

  Clink.

  Jack thumbed the wheel and the Zippo lit up. “Still wish you could come?”

  Startled by the question, Jacob picked up the cigar box and sat down next to Jack. “You know I do. But I’m too recognizable in Yu’s court. Besides, the Tok’ra High Council never would’ve agreed to it.”

  Jack blew out the flame. “And does your High Council have any idea why Yu took Daniel in the first place?

  Jacob sighed. “Not a clue.”

  “Of course not.” Jack took his cigar box from Jacob’s hands, looking at its contents as if taking inventory. “Not that I don’t believe you, but I’m not so sure your little Tok’ra buddies always tell you the truth.”

  A small pressure nudged in Jacob’s head. Selmak’s way of raising his hand, wanting a turn to speak.

  Jacob bowed his head and mentally stepped aside.

  “You should not fear for your friend, Colonel O’Neill,” said Selmak. “Our operatives within Lord Yu’s lower ranks insist Dr. Jackson is still very much alive, though why Yu has taken him remains unclear.”

  “No offense, but I’ll believe Daniel’s all right when I see him with my own eyes.” Jack stood, shoving the cigar box into his locker. He slammed the door shut, spun the combo, and then shrugged on his jacket.

  Believing there was nothing more to be said that could shore up Jack’s confidence, Jacob pulled off his tunic and slipped on a black tee. The colonel would have to come to terms with his demons on his own. He was a big boy, he’d been through plenty. If he needed to go through this moment of self-doubt to pull it together, so be it.

  Respecting Jack’s need for silence, Jacob turned back to the task of changing. He tossed his Tok’ra uniform into his locker and sat down to tie up his boots. Though Jack no longer toyed with his lighter, he thumbed the metal cap repeatedly, seemingly lost in thought.

  After a long pause, Jack finally spoke up. “Let me ask you something — ”

  “Anything.”

  Jack shook his head. “Actually, it’s a Selmak question.”

  Though astonished, Jacob happily stepped aside.

  “Colonel?” asked Selmak.

  “You’ve lived for what… two thousand years?”

  “That is correct. I was born directly of Queen Egeria, in the time of your Roman Empire.”

  Selmak observed as Colonel O’Neill’s eyes fell to the object in his palm. Wrapping his fingers over the dull, scratched metal case, the colonel looked up. “So, over the centuries, you’ve probably had lots of hosts. Your symbiote pals had lots of hosts, too.”

  “And each and every host remains a fond memory within the Tok’ra. No one is forgotten.”

  “Okay.” The colonel grabbed his tactical vest and slipped it on.

  “Have I answered your question?”

  “One more thing,” the colonel said. He grabbed his pack, opened a side pocket, and stuck his lighter within. “As time marches on… What’s it like for you snakeheads? How do you watch everyone you’ve ever known die?”

  STARGATE COMMAND

  STATUS: COMMENCE SEARCH AND RESCUE

  2 JUL 03/1500 HRS BASE TIME

  The Stargate powered up, its inner superconducting ring spinning clockwise across in search of coordinates to lock. Normally, Sam enjoyed watching the massive machinery, the thrum of the gate-room floor beneath her feet could charge her up for anything and anywhere.

  This mission, however, was anything but normal.

  She looked on as General Hammond and her father escorted Ambassador Huang into the gate-room. Huang clutched his metal box to his chest

  The ring’s forward momentum ground to a halt and the first chevron lit up. As the ring changed directions, Colonel O’Neill entered with Teal’c and Bra’tac at his side.

  “Chevron One encoded,” Sergeant Harriman announced over the PA system.

  The colonel looked as out of place without a P90 slung across his chest as Bra’tac and Teal’c looked without staff weapons. Sam’s hand drifted down to the zat strapped to her leg. Small solace though it was better than nothing.

  “Chevron Two encoded.”

  “Everyone’s got their pendants?” her father asked.

  “Lovingly stowed away,” said the colonel with a pat to his vest pocket. “Where’s our packs?”

  “Right here, sir!” Sergeant Siler ran through the blast doors with three specialists in his wake. Since Bra’tac wore his Jaffa armor, he was given a messenger bag with a sleeping roll tied to its strap.

  “Chevron Three encoded.”

  “Tell me you packed my Gameboy, Siler,” said the colonel.

  “Of course, sir. Wouldn’t dream of letting you go without it.” Siler strapped on Colonel O’Neill’s pack while two of the specialists assisted Sam and Teal’c.

  “And I hope you packed some extra special MREs for me,” said the colonel. “You know how much I love your taste in food.”

  Siler stepped back and saluted. “Yes, sir. I gave you two extra choices on top of the regular fare. Hopefully, that’ll be enough.”

  “Don’t forget to tape our favorite show while I’m gone.”

  “The Simpsons is in reruns till the fall, sir, but I’ll grab it just in case,” Siler replied in his typical straight-faced manner.

  “Chevron Four encoded.”

  Backpacks strapped on, Siler came over to where Sam stood quietly with her father. The sergeant held out a nylon harness with a webbed pouch. “This should do it, Major.”

  Sam thanked him and slipped the thing on. The empty pouch rested over the upper left pocket of her vest. “Ambassador?”

  Huang opened the box and she took out both communication devices. Holding one in each hand, a brief tingle ran up her neck. A ripple raced across each ball as they sprung to life. The one in her left projected an image of the ball in her right hand and vice versa. It was like looking at mirrors in a funhouse, each repeating back the other’s image ad infinitum.

  “Chevron Five encoded.”

  She handed one of the balls back to Huang. “Now that they’re keyed in, you shouldn’t have any trouble receiving our signal.”

  Huang cradled the ball in his hand. “Exactly how will this work?”

  Inserting her com ball into the webbing that hung from a jacket pocket, Sam did a slow three-sixty. As she turned back around, Colonel O’Neill’s image shimmered on the ball in Huang’s hand.

  The col
onel frowned. “That’s enough, Carter.”

  “Only making sure we have this set up correctly, sir.”

  “Chevron Six encoded.”

  “I said, put it away.”

  Huang objected. “Our agreement depends on use of these devices.”

  The colonel spun around. “Not for this first leg of the trip.”

  Sam’s father bowed his head as he usually did when Selmak was about to speak. S/he faced the ambassador and said, “The colonel is correct. These devices are not secure and the cargo ship we have arranged is situated on a Tok’ra outpost. If the System Lords were to discover its whereabouts, hundreds of lives would be jeopardized.”

  “Chevron Seven locked.”

  The Stargate’s brilliant blue kawoosh erupted and then settled into place. For one brief moment, the only sound in the gate-room was the ripple of the event horizon.

  General Hammond was the first to break the silence. “I apologize, Mister Ambassador, but our Tok’ra allies have a right to their privacy.”

  “As long as it is a temporary situation,” Huang said as he put his ball back into the box. “I expect communications to be engaged once you are free of Tok’ra airspace.”

  “If you’ll follow me,” said General Hammond, “we’ll return to the briefing room.”

  Sam’s father hugged her briefly. “Give my regards to Dr. Jackson.”

  “I will.” She squeezed her father’s hand as they separated, appreciative of his optimistic sendoff. Until his blending with Selmak, the words ‘optimistic’ and ‘father’ had never belonged in the same sentence. Turning back toward the gate, she awaited the colonel’s order to move out, hoping she’d be able to pass along her father’s message sooner rather than later.

  “Teal’c, help the Major secure that thing in her pack,” the colonel ordered.

  Sam held out the com ball, but her Jaffa team mate didn’t take it. Instead, he openly stared at the ambassador, an uncertain yet dark look in his eyes.

  “Teal’c?”

  He blinked. “My apologies, Major Carter.” He took the ball from her hand and stowed it in her backpack.

  “SG-1. Master Bra’tac. You have a go,” said General Hammond. “Godspeed.”

  The colonel led the way up the ramp, disappearing through the watery portal. Bra’tac followed. With Teal’c at her side, Sam approached the event horizon. She sucked in a breath and gave him a nod.

  Teal’c never took his eyes off the ambassador until they stepped through the gate.

  Chapter Six

  Though barely able to keep his eyes open, Daniel dropped a stone on his left quadrant of the board. “I’m going to need sleep at some point.”

  “We will rest soon.” Having plunked a stone directly above, Yu raised stern eyes to Daniel. “Or would you prefer to be returned to your cage?”

  Play or slowly die, was that it?

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Daniel said, managing a weak grin.

  He set a stone to the left of Yu’s newest gambit, blocking two sides of the board from play. If he was lucky, maybe he could capture at least one piece. It would be a first. “I’m not very good at this game.”

  “This I know.” Yu set a second piece beside his first.

  “And yet, we keep playing.” Daniel plunked down another white stone, surrounding Yu’s original black on three sides.

  “Consider this to be practice.”

  “I’m sorry? Practicing what?”

  Yu played another piece, this time to the right of Daniel’s top stone. “It has been said that to succeed in war, one must practice dissimulation. One must hide their true intent.”

  In other words, Daniel wasn’t going to get a clear answer. Having no other choice but to keep playing, or end up near paralyzed in Yu’s torturous cage, he picked up another stone from his bowl. Then, it hit him.

  Daniel sat back in his chair. Practice dissimulation. He’d heard the phrase before, or rather, he’d read it. He just couldn’t remember where.

  There were still holes in his pre-Ascension memories. Not huge gaps, only small frustrating ones. He could remember most of his time with SG-1, though some of his early research was lost. He still remembered most of Budge’s work, though not Campbell’s cross cultural research. The Book of the Dead had practically been tattooed on his eyelids, yet Grave’s study of pre-Christian deities was foggy. When it came to Chinese dynastic artifacts, he could remember just fine. But what little he could remember of the country’s writings, passed along from his time with Kevin or from his own research, drew a blank.

  As did Yu’s little gem.

  It has been said…

  “Play your piece,” Yu commanded, smoothing the front of his robes.

  Daniel hurriedly put another stone down, to the right of his original play.

  Instead of his normally rapid counter, Yu studied the board. Daniel took advantage of the reprise to scan the room once more, hoping for some detail, some artifact, that might help make sense. As long as he stayed alive — with the hopes that rescue was on the way, somehow or someway — there was a unique opportunity here. A chance to learn. A way to follow his reaffirmed desire to understand Earth’s past.

  So little was known about Yu’s time on Earth. From the trappings of the System Lord’s throne room to his obvious obsession with the ancient Chinese game, the possibility that the Goa’uld spent actual time in China was high.

  Daniel’s eyes drifted toward the two wall-length scrolls on the far screen. A few single black painted letters covered the top halves of the red cloths. From what Daniel could recall, the blocky pictogram style matched early Xia dynasty samples, like the ones found on P3Y-702. That would make them at least 4,000 years old.

  “Your turn again, Dr. Jackson.” Yu had laid another black below Daniel’s latest play. The interplay of black and white stones had begun to look like a ladder descending toward the board’s edge.

  Daniel pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. Outside, the sun had set, leaving the incense-filled braziers the only illumination in the room. His eyes stung from the smoke.

  “Can we take a break for a moment?”

  Yu pressed his lips together and nodded his assent.

  “You’re very…,” Daniel searched for a safe word, “fond of Chinese culture. This game, for instance — ”

  “Games teach.”

  Daniel waved his hand. “So you say. I also noticed that your Royal Guard, both Oshu and Lao Dan, are Chinese, but the rest of your Jaffa come from mixed cultures.”

  “There are reasons they are members of my Royal Guard,” Yu said. “Reasons of my own.”

  Daniel pointed toward the scrolls. “What about those? Are they from your time in China?”

  Yu turned toward the scrolls. “Those are to remind me of my time amongst the Tau’ri.” He sighed. “Much happened during my reign. Much I remember. Much I must remember.”

  Sticking his glasses back on, Daniel peered at the nearest scroll. A random memory popped up. He’d seen this scroll before, on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

  The bottom half showed a man standing by a river painted in gold. The river’s banks were swollen, threatening to break out of its boundaries, but the man appeared calm. Serene.

  The man wore a red mianfu vest, similar to Yu’s. Same imperial tuft at his chin, same green hat with a horsehair tail.

  Surprised, Daniel looked back at Yu. “Is that you?” He cringed a little at the pun. The jokes had all been done before and besides, if he was right, this wasn’t exactly funny.

  It was more a case of this potentially being remarkable. Historical proof of the Goa’uld’s time on Earth, right in front of everyone who’d ever graced that museum.

  A brazier sparked, releasing a tuft of incense laden smoke into the air. Inhaling deeply, Yu closed his eyes. “A great flood threatened the Chinese people shortly after my arrival.”

  “The Yellow River?” Daniel asked.

  “It had a different name the
n.” Yu opened his eyes and glanced at Daniel. “One that spoke to truth. The cradle of life amongst the Chinese… and their death.”

  Yu put down his bowl of stones and folded his hands in his lap. “I had yet to secure my place of power when the river’s banks broke. As my host was a civil servant in the court of King Yao, I knew that any invasion by my Jaffa would be a waste of time. Thousands had already died in the flooding — ”

  “So what did you do? I mean, any other Goa’uld would’ve just sat back and waited.”

  Yu laughed, the boom in his voice filling the room. “I am not other Goa’uld. By now, that should be obvious.”

  “So… you helped?” The idea of a Goa’uld actually protecting people was a bit farfetched for Daniel.

  “First, I eliminated Yao. He was a fool, wishing to run from the people who served him. I replaced him, and with my Jaffa, I dredged new river channels to stop the floods from destroying my new domain. Thirteen years were spent doing so, with 20,000 workers dedicated to the endeavor.”

  Yu turned his gaze toward the cherry tree. “Great sacrifices were made to save China.”

  Daniel followed Yu’s line of sight below the tree to the crude statue of the woman and children. Flames from the brazier reflected off its jade surface. Clearly, the statue had some meaning to Yu, but when he tried to ask, the Goa’uld returned his attention to the game.

  The entire concept of Yu actually caring about humans was too impossible for Daniel to believe. The Goa’uld was no different than any other.

  “Enough,” Yu said. He plunked a stone down beneath Daniel’s small grouping, effectively surrounding the white stones on three sides. If Daniel could take the two spaces on the far right, he could stave off Yu’s winning a good dozen stones.

  Daniel set down another stone and then realized his error. All Yu would have to do was set his next piece to the right of Daniel’s and he’d still win.

  He snorted. “I really do suck at this game.”

  Dropping a stone on the far other side of the board, Yu said, “We have only played one round, Daniel Jackson. There are far more rounds to go in Wéiqí.”