SG1-16 Four Dragons

by Botsford, Diana

  George took the cup, like he did every morning. Except this wasn’t like every other morning. Having Dr. Jackson held hostage by a Goa’uld was one thing. The S.G.C. had dealt with situations like this again and again with a success rate George was proud of, but being held hostage by a diplomat… The entire situation reeked of bad blood.

  From his office, he peered through the transparent star chart and into the briefing room, eyeing the ambassador warily. Huang sat at the table, staring intently at the Goa’uld communication device propped up in front of him. The man wore the same damn black suit he had on yesterday. George found that rather odd. Even the Chinese gave their diplomats hefty expense accounts.

  “Is there anything else you need, General?”

  George sipped his coffee. Black, two sugars. Simmons never failed. Young, smart, eager to please, the dark-haired lieutenant had the slight build of an upwardly mobile officer wise enough to keep in shape, yet humble enough not to request assignment to an SG team. Simmons knew his place and valued it.

  At least some things were dependable.

  “Get me a bead on Dr. Frasier,” George replied. “I want to know the moment she sets foot on base.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And keep the coffee coming, Lieutenant.” George drained the cup and handed it back. “It’s going to be a long day.”

  Dismissing the lieutenant, George strode into the briefing room.

  “Five minutes until exiting hyperspace,” announced Major Carter. Her voice emitted loud and clear from the com device.

  As George approached the table, Huang glanced up. “It is an exciting day, General Hammond.”

  “Any day that ends with my people safe and sound is a good one, Ambassador.” It was clear the ambassador hadn’t slept a wink. A thin watery film leaked from Huang’s eyes and his beard was long in need of a comb.

  The ball projected a side view of Teal’c illuminated by blue light tinged with purple. Hyperspace, George realized. In all the SG team reports he’d ever read about light speed travel, no one’s description did justice to what he now saw projected in front of him.

  “Preparing to enable stealth mode,” Teal’c said as he manipulated a control.

  “Standby to engage.”

  Teal’c’s image slid left, replaced by a frontal view out the cargo ship’s bow window. Toward the bottom of the image, pale hands palmed a red sphere, a blue narrow band running vertical at its center. Since Major Carter had been put in charge of handling the com device, George had to assume she piloted the craft.

  “Four minutes.”

  Huang clapped his hands together. “It is an honor to be the first Chinese citizen to witness Emperor Yu’s homeworld.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Mister Ambassador,” George said. “SG-1 has orders to come out of hyperspace at the planet’s south pole, way off from where our intelligence reports place the Goa’uld’s base.”

  “No offense, General,” said the voice of Colonel O’Neill. “But could those of you at the back of the bus pipe down?”

  George bit back a reply. The colonel knew what he was doing better than any Air Force officer alive. George needed to keep the trust, even if it meant having a front row seat to possibly the riskiest mission his flagship team had ever attempted.

  “Three minutes.”

  Someone had set a pot of tea beside Huang. Most likely Simmons. The ambassador poured two cups and offered one to George who waved him off. He’d wait on the coffee refill.

  The com ball showed brilliant blue streaks flying by either side of the ship’s bow. Occasionally, a static speck of light could be seen. George assumed them to be distant stars. Now that he’d seen hyperspace in action, he hoped Major Carter could explain how it functioned if… no, when she returned.

  Damn right, when.

  “You have no idea what this means for our people,” Huang whispered. “To see the founder of our nation, the one who pushed back the great floods 4,000 years ago — ”

  “Two minutes.”

  “Carter, don’t waste time easing her in,” the colonel’s voice said. “I want this ship hugging the ground the second we’re in stealth mode.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Huang leaned in toward the ball, tea cup in hand. “Thirteen years,” he whispered. “Thirteen years, 20,000 workers dedicated to the endeavor. If not for Emperor Yu, China would only be another ocean on Earth.”

  “Sixty seconds to exit hyperspace window.”

  George didn’t give a damn about China’s floods, but he let Huang prattle on. All that mattered was that his people were about to enter enemy airspace and there was nothing he could do to protect them.

  Sitting down beside Huang, George had only one thing on his mind.

  Godspeed, SG-1.

  PLANET DESIGNATION: LORD YU’S

  HOMEWORLD (P3X-042)

  STATUS: SAR MISSION ARRIVAL

  APPROX 1700 HRS LOCAL TIME

  3 JUL 03/0620 HRS BASE TIME

  Jack held on to the center console as the ship emerged from hyperspace with a jolt. A shimmer of bent light bounced across the fore windows, almost like a prism reflecting the sun. As the deck shuddered beneath his boots, he glanced across to Bra’tac who stood upright, not holding on to anything.

  The old coot sure had a helluva sense of balance.

  “The cloak is now engaged,” Teal’c announced.

  Releasing his grip, Jack strode up to stand beside Carter as she piloted the ship. She had a smooth touch, her hands light on the control sphere. She flew the thing with skill and confidence.

  Just another talent to add to his second-in-command’s massive list of abilities.

  He took a look out the window. They’d come out on the night-side of Yu’s planet. Not much to see, but a slice of a moon on the easterly horizon. No other satellites, no big mothership. Jack was sure it was out there somewhere. Hopefully, far over on the other side of the planet.

  Satisfied, he gave the order. “The second we get above the pole, take us below Mach One.”

  “Sir?”

  Chancing a reassuring look her way, Jack did his best not to notice the com ball hanging from her jacket pocket. “If Dad is right — and unlike the rest of his Tok’ra buddies, he usually is — there won’t be any inhabitants this far south. Best make our little sonic boom as much a secret as possible before heading north.”

  Carter eased the globe forward and they descended down toward the planet. For a clunky-looking ship, it sure had a better pitch, yaw and roll to it than the A10 Hogs Jack flew during the Gulf War, or even the new F-302. Plus, its ability to cooperate at any speed was a sweet bonus.

  Light as a feather, they descended down toward the southern pole. If Jack was looking to make a comparison to Antarctica, he could see it wouldn’t be found here. A gray wash of sunrise splattered across the mountainous landscape. There didn’t seem to be much in the way of snow, just ice… covering pretty much everything.

  “Traveling at Mach point eight, sir.”

  With a nod at his second-in-command, Jack fell back and tried to enjoy what was left of the ride. The easy part was almost over. Now came the lights, camera, action.

  Show time.

  * * *

  At a longitude and latitude roughly the equivalence of Argentina’s Buenos Aires, Sam leveled the ship off at 7,500 feet above sea level. The sun was to the west. She estimated the local time was probably mid-afternoon. The quality of light was different than she usually saw on planets under Goa’uld occupation. More on the white end of the spectrum than in the yellows or reds.

  As they’d moved north from the pole, she’d expected to see a warmer climate as well as a calmer topography. She’d been wrong. Jagged mountain ranges reached all the way from the pole, the only difference being that snow replaced ice on their tops. Though the terrain was similar to Northern China, it was a far colder climate than usual for a Goa’uld.

  “There!” Bra’tac pointed north by northwest.

 
A squadron of gliders passed by an opening in the mountain range. None veered off, so it was a safe bet they hadn’t noticed the cloaked cargo ship.

  “Teal’c, you’re sure the cloak’s behaving?” asked Colonel O’Neill.

  To Sam’s left, Teal’c scanned the tactical display. “It is functioning as it should, O’Neill. We have not been sighted.”

  “Take us in, Major. Nice and slow.”

  Sam flew through the opening and into a valley crowded with mile after mile of ramshackle shacks. Yu’s slave quarters, no doubt. She suppressed the thought of thousands of people — men, women, and children — forced to do the dirty work of Goa’ulds. Her father had mentioned that the mountains were rich with naquadah. Mining was the way of life for everyone over the age of eight. Someday, it had to end.

  Today, however, wouldn’t be that day.

  Ahead of her, the gliders banked left. Sam matched their course, slowing right down to less than fifty kph. As she righted the ship, the gliders took up position over Yu’s fortress. They began to circle it lazily, like vultures hanging over their nest.

  Colonel O’Neill gave an appreciative whistle. “I bet the power bill for that place costs an arm and a leg.”

  The colonel was right, in his own way. The power required to keep a place warm enough for a Goa’uld had to be huge. She briefly wondered if the power generated to keep the photonic energy shield in place also served as an overall source. She tucked the thought aside, knowing it’d be unlikely she’d have a chance to find out.

  Yu’s fortress was massive. Large enough for two or maybe even three football fields. Terra cotta roofs, thick limestone walls, and narrow windows, all reminiscent of the defenses she’d seen in European castles. If an enemy tried to take out any occupants, they’d have a hard time unless they blew the walls down.

  “Keep the ship a good mile off,” Colonel O’Neill said. “I don’t want those Jaffa getting even a whiff that we’re here.”

  “We must find the least heavily guarded entry possible,” Teal’c said.

  “What’s with all the gliders?” Sam asked.

  “By refusing to accept Anubis, Lord Yu has made many enemies amongst the System Lords,” Bra’tac said.

  “Looks like paranoia to me,” the colonel said, craning his neck over the forward console.

  “Considering his longevity,” Teal’c said, “paranoia might be the very thing that has kept him alive for so many millennia.”

  Two gliders descended toward a landing platform jutting from the east side of the fortress. As their wings folded for final descent, a ripple shimmered in the air. If Sam had blinked, she never would have noticed. “Yu’s forcefield is definitely in place, sir.”

  “We expected that. Take one last run around and then let’s find a good place to put this bucket down. Somewhere off the main drag.”

  “Yes, sir.” Trimming their trajectory, Sam gave Yu’s fortress a wider berth and brought the ship on a parallel run with the mountains surrounding the valley. As they went over the lake, half the gliders broke formation. Two headed right toward them.

  “You’re positive they can’t see us, right?”

  “It is impossible, O’Neill,” Bra’tac said. “We do not even cause a shadow on the ground.”

  Sam glimpsed out her window at the mountains beside them. No shadow. No indication they were even there. The Jaffa Master was right, but that didn’t make her any less worried.

  Within seconds, a glider reached their position. It flew at the same level, several hundred feet off their starboard side. The two Jaffa inside looked straight ahead, never glancing their way.

  “Eyes up, Major.”

  She’d seen it. The glider yawed right, came closer.

  “Carter…”

  Two wingspans away now. She’d have to change course and do it quick. If she throttled up, the Jaffa would notice the turbulence. Slowing down wasn’t an option, either. Not this close to the mountainside.

  “You plan on avoiding a mid-air collision or should I wish I’d brought a chute?”

  Ignoring the colonel’s quip, Sam pushed down on the control globe. “Hang on!”

  She pitched the cargo ship downward, hard. On the count of three, she spun sideways, aiming the ship toward a break in the mountains just east of Yu’s fortress. The glider continued on its current course, none the wiser.

  “Nice flying, Ace.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Sam flashed a smile at the colonel. She didn’t bother to mention that if it wasn’t for the inertial dampeners, they’d all be splattered on the ceiling.

  Colonel O’Neill pointed out the left window. “There’s a break in the hills west of Yu’s little abode. Head over there and let’s look for a place to set down.”

  With a shaky hand she hoped no one noticed, Sam adjusted course and setting. The back side of Yu’s fortress was vacant. No shacks, no buildings. Just acres of wild grasses, like some overgrown yard in need of a good mowing.

  About eight klicks west, the vegetation suddenly changed. An elaborate maze sprawled across the opening between the two mountains. Green-leafed tree tops twisted in all directions, creating a confusing labyrinth of pathways. From their height, Sam barely made out an interconnected network of thick-roped vines strung across the maze. Probably fashioned to keep people from climbing the tree tops to get out.

  “Well, that looks like fun,” Colonel O’Neill said darkly.

  “Jacob Carter had not mentioned this barrier,” said Bra’tac.

  “Nor was I aware,” Teal’c added apologetically.

  The colonel joined Bra’tac in studying the maze out the port window. “Yeah, well, surprises are our de rigueur so let’s get a good look and move on.”

  “Is there not a more suitable area we can land?” asked Bra’tac. If Sam didn’t know any better, she’d swear he sounded nervous.

  “Not if we want to keep our distance from those gliders,” she replied.

  “I see…”

  Sam traded concerned glances with Teal’c, neither of them used to hearing the Jaffa Master be anything less than certain. He was the bravest hundred and thirty-nine year-old she’d ever known.

  Heck, he was braver than most twenty-year olds.

  “It’s just a maze,” the colonel said. “Piece of cake.”

  “Our path will be obscured, O’Neill.”

  “We’ll be fine. Carter, take her down behind that hill on the far side of the wood-maze-thing.”

  “Yes, sir.” She eased off the throttle, bringing the ship just beyond a sixty, maybe seventy-feet high hill. It stretched several hundred feet in either direction and was covered in the same wild grasses that grew behind Yu’s fortress. A forest of silver-needled coniferous trees, reminiscent of Colorado pines, graced the hilltop.

  As she set the cargo ship down, Colonel O’Neill, Teal’c and Bra’tac headed aft. Locking down the controls, she followed. Teal’c tossed her a tactical vest and she slipped it on, re-rigging the communication ball off to the side of her radio pocket. By stretching Siler’s bit of webbing across the device, she managed to keep it from swaying back and forth.

  With the exception of Bra’tac, everyone donned black ski hats. When she reached for the packs, Colonel O’Neil’s long arm shot out, snatching his before she could reach it.

  “I got it, Carter,” he said, his voice strained. Flinging his pack over his shoulder, the colonel managed to snap the pack on himself.

  It was moments like these when Sam could almost predict the outcome of a mission by the way the team geared up. If it was a ‘walk in the park’ as the colonel would say, they’d help each other strap on gear and load weapons. The banter would be non-stop. If the mission included possible combat, that banter softened although… it was still present, especially since Daniel had returned to them. If anything, their archaeologist teammate talked more now than he had before he’d ascended.

  Sam swallowed hard as she zipped up her vest. Daniel wasn’t there, and this was no ordinary mission. No one s
poke as they geared up. Bra’tac’s eyes never strayed from the forward compartment while Teal’c withdrew off to one side, checking and rechecking every buckle and clasp. Colonel O’Neill shifted on his feet like he was about to run a marathon.

  The only other time the team had been this tense and this silent as they ran through mission prep was when the Stargate was about to be shut down and Daniel had convinced them to gate through to the mysterious coordinates he’d retrieved in the alternate reality. SG-1 had no idea what they were getting into back then, and even though they’d successfully thwarted the attack on Earth, the idea of gating to a completely unknown location had spooked all of them.

  Going into Goa’uld occupied territory with only zat weapons to defend themselves… the situation gave a whole new meaning to the word ‘spook.’

  Still, zats were better than nothing at all. Unlocking the weapons locker, Sam handed a zat to Teal’c and then one to Bra’tac. “Remember our orders. Shoot to stun, not kill.” Handing a zat to the colonel, she reminded him, “That means one shot per combatant, sir.”

  Colonel O’Neill stared at her a moment and then down at the com ball on her vest. “I’m belaying that order, Major.” He grabbed the zat. “Do what’s necessary to stay alive. All of you.”

  STARGATE COMMAND

  STATUS: GATE OPERATIONS SUSPENDED

  3 JUL 03/0720 HRS BASE TIME

  “That was not our agreement, General.” Huang slapped a hand down on the briefing table. “Does your country truly wish the world to know the truth about the Stargate?”

  “Please keep your voice down, Ambassador,” George replied as softly as he could. He chose his next words carefully. “I assure you, the mission will go as planned.”

  A vertical line of static raced across the Goa’uld communication ball, breaking up Colonel O’Neill’s image. When the display coalesced once more, he’d turned his back, zat in leg holster, and stormed off. George recognized that stride. He’d seen it too many times over the years. Times when Jack’s otherwise cool head was being shouted down by the anger in his veins, justified or not.