SG1-16 Four Dragons

by Botsford, Diana

  Now that Daniel had interacted with each of them, he knew enough to recognize their loyalties to Yu went far beyond normal blind obedience. These men — each cutting quite the princely figure in their cloaks of grey, green, blue and red—were highly intelligent, unique individuals. Oshu had a genuinely curious nature. Lao Dan’s kindness made him the most atypical Jaffa Daniel had ever met. Kong Qiu’s dedication to reason over emotion was almost admirable.

  The fourth Jaffa, the one in the red cloak… Daniel had heard Yu call him Ying Zheng. The perfect name, all things considered. The original Ying Zheng, Emperor of China sometime around 225 B.C., had been far more infamous than the legendary Yu the Great. Sure, Zheng had been the original builder of China’s Great Wall, and the renowned terracotta army, and a massive national road system as well, but it had all been done at the expense of thousands of lives.

  Ying Zheng had been a tyrant.

  The current Zheng wasn’t much of an improvement in the personality department, either. Their brief encounter a few days ago when Daniel had tried to convince the Jaffa to let him go free had been proof of that. By the way Zheng hung on the Goa’uld’s every word, he was obviously devoted to Yu. Like a son to a father.

  All four of them were, actually… And why only four and not six, or ten, or even twenty? Four seemed like a small number for a System Lord’s Royal Guard, and it wasn’t like they were brothers, even though they acted like it. Short, tall, lean, stocky. Each of them was physically different though all four were most definitely of Chinese descent.

  He looked down at the Wéiqí board, its surface mostly covered in Yu’s black stones. Only a few groups of white were still in play. That and the first of Daniel’s four dragons. The one with gray eyes.

  What was it with Yu and the number four?

  Yu’s conference broke up, tearing Daniel’s attention from the board. As the guards began to file out of the room, he noticed the Goa’uld give a final pat to his statue, and then returned to his seat. He took up his bowl of stones with a casualness that belied the battle of mere minutes ago.

  “You may now play your second dragon as you planned before our interruption.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Daniel furrowed his brow, utterly confused. Didn’t Yu have bigger things to worry about, like capturing Jack and the others?

  “I am most serious,” Yu said.

  “Okay…” He picked up the blue-eyed dragon and placed it on an open spot in the center of the board.

  “My Lord?” Oshu approached the table. “Should we not keep the communication device engaged?”

  Yu ignored his First Prime, plunking down a black stone to the left of Daniel’s dragon.

  With a frown, Oshu tried again, speaking with a level of patience Daniel found rather remarkable, all things considered. “My Lord, if the Tau’ri have entered the — ”

  “Do not speak to me as if I am some addle-minded idiot.”

  Oshu blanched. “I would never, my Lord. I only meant — ”

  “Enough! You,” the Goa’uld pointed at Daniel, “play your next piece.”

  Daniel hurriedly placed a white stone on the board, next to his second dragon.

  “And you,” the Goa’uld continued, pointing at Oshu, “do not disturb us again unless it is urgent. The game is not to be interrupted.”

  With a bow, Oshu backed away from the table. “Perhaps my Lord would consider resting in the sarcophagus. It has been many hours since — ”

  “Leave us,” Yu warned.

  “Yes, my Lord.” Oshu glared at Daniel one last time and hurried out, his gray cloak flapping against his back.

  His gray cloak.

  Daniel looked once more at the four dragons, each one’s eyes a different color. Gray, red, green, blue… just like the Royal Guard’s different colored cloaks.

  Yu dropped a stone in front of the second dragon. Half of Daniel’s mind focused on the game, dropping another white down beside the first. The rest of him tried to figure out how the pieces of Yu’s puzzle came together.

  Four Royal Guards. Four colors. Four dragons. There was a connection. Daniel was sure of it. He just didn’t know how they were connected. Not yet, at least.

  With a sigh, Yu laid a hand on the communications ball. “Not one of my four guards appreciates your presence.”

  “I can understand why.” Daniel said calmly. He tried to feign disinterest in the guards’ animosity, the puzzle that defined Yu nagging at him.

  “My reasons are my own.” He indicated the board by lifting his chin. “Play your next piece, Daniel Jackson. In doing so, be mindful of your dragons.”

  Yu waved his hand over the communications device. As a mist gathered in its center, he nodded approvingly. “Yes… be mindful of your dragons because no one else will.”

  * * *

  “So much for Plan C,” said Colonel O’Neill. “Without ammo, we can’t stay here much longer, Carter.”

  “I know that, sir.” Sam restarted her scanner for the third time. “One more minute.”

  “Do I smell a Plan D… as in ‘get it done’? We’re getting through the alphabet pretty quick on this mission.”

  “Possibly, sir. Photonic energy readings are through the roof… which simply isn’t possible. Not without some giant beam of light pouring down on top of us.”

  Colonel O’Neill frowned. “Only light I see is that meek little sun poking itself up above the mountains. In other words, time’s a-wasting.”

  “Just one more moment.” Finally, her scanner chirped. Sam thumbed the results screen, only half-surprised to see the detection needle once again pegged beyond normal bandwidth. Way beyond, into some frequency the scanner couldn’t even register.

  Maybe she was too tired to read it properly. She raised the scanner closer.

  The needle dropped down to zero.

  “Okay, now I’m starting to think I need glasses.” Or a new scanner, she told herself. Though the colonel probably didn’t realize it, he was right about one thing. Sunlight should have registered at least a low degree of photonic energy.

  In essence, all light contains photons.

  “Keep at it,” the colonel said, patting her shoulder. “In the meantime… Teal’c, Bra’tac, our next objective is through that door. Scout ahead. I want to know what what’s inside and what we’re up against.”

  “Understood,” Teal’c said.

  Dropping the scanner to her hip, Sam watched the two Jaffa allies run toward the door. They scooped up two more of the modified zats on their way. Good idea, since that was pretty much going to be the extent of the weapons they had.

  She looked back at her scanner. The needle pinned red again. “What the heck?”

  “Carter?”

  Sam lifted the scanner to eye-level one more time to be sure. The needle dropped to zero. “Sir, I think I know what’s going on.”

  “That makes one of us. Care to share?”

  She held the scanner out between them. The needle pegged. “There’s an enormously high level of photonic energy being emitted somewhere — ”

  “Isn’t that why your dad gave us the pendants?”

  “Exactly. Watch the scanner.” She flipped it out so he could see the display and then placed it against her chest, just above where her pendant hung. The colonel’s eyebrows shot up.

  “The needle dropped to zero, didn’t it?” She raised the scanner to his chest and the same thing happened again.

  “Neat trick.”

  “The pendants caused that, sir.” She picked up one of the modified zats and ran the scanner over it. The needle went nuts, pegging both sides of the spectrum. “I can’t be certain, but I think — ”

  “O’Neill,” Teal’c whispered over the radio. “The building’s entrance remains unguarded. We should proceed quickly.”

  The colonel thumbed his radio. “Scout ahead. We’ll be there shortly.” He released the radio. “Talk on the way, Carter. Let’s move.”

  “Yes, sir.” She pocketed the scanner
.

  “Bring your P90,” he ordered. “You might be out of rounds, but the Jaffa won’t know that. And bring one of those one-shot-and-you’re-gone zats, too.”

  Colonel O’Neill led the way across the remains of the torn up terrace. Dead and dying Jaffa lay everywhere. “So what’s the deal with the zats?”

  “Without taking one apart, sir, I’d have to guess they’re built of a composite similar to the pendants… except in reverse.”

  “And reverse is good?” A wide gap in the floor brought them to a halt. The colonel pointed at the back end where a narrow strip of flooring had managed to survive the battle. They shimmied across and dropped down by the partially open door.

  Sam knew she needed to make her point and make it fast. “Sir, something inside these zats not only filters out random electrical charges, like the pendants, but also acts as a conduit for some sort of massive energy source. A source I’d be willing to bet is somewhere close. The phase velocity of photons must be — ”

  “Carter… just tell me how this helps. We’re low on ammo, we’ve got an enemy with far more powerful weapons — ”

  “Sir, I think if we shut down the energy source, we can even up the odds. Their zats will revert back to normal issue. The chances of rescuing Daniel will be heck of a lot better.”

  His weapon raised, the colonel nudged the door a bit more and peered inside. With a frown, he pulled his head back out. “Don’t be so sure, Major.”

  When the colonel shoved the door open, Sam saw Teal’c and Bra’tac crouched beneath a silvery metal stairwell. Halfway up the stairs, an activated Goa’uld communications ball shimmered.

  From inside its mists, Lord Yu looked on. Daniel was by his side.

  STARGATE COMMAND

  STATUS: GATE OPERATIONS SUSPENDED

  APPROX 0730 HRS LOCAL TIME

  3 JUL 03/2050 HRS BASE TIME

  Jacob Carter transmitted an update to the Tok’ra council, asking… no, demanding to know what the hell kind of technology allowed Yu’s Jaffa to zat the snot out of anything with just one hit. The council denied any knowledge.

  Jacob climbed the stairs leading to the briefing room. Half the time, he felt like the council had blinders on. The rest of the time, they just played at being dense. He knew because as a ranking member of the council, he’d played dumb to operatives plenty of times.

  As my former hosts did as well, Selmak agreed. What an operative does not know can save the lives of others.

  That doesn’t make it any easier, Jacob countered.

  He stopped at the top of the stairs. The room was dark, save for some light streaming in from George’s office. Thinking his friend might be catching up on paperwork now that they couldn’t stay abreast of SG-1’s rescue mission, Jacob headed toward the door.

  Until a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He stopped, turned toward its source.

  It was George. Staring out the window, most likely down at the Stargate.

  Probably making himself nuts, what with not knowing how Sam and the others were holding up. Well, he wasn’t alone. Every time Jacob was deployed on a mission for the Tok’ra, far removed from the S.G.C., he worried like a maniac about Sam.

  He sighed. The not knowing really stunk.

  “Jacob?” George turned from the window.

  “How are you holding up?” Jacob joined him.

  “I could ask you the same the thing.”

  Jacob shrugged. “This isn’t my first barbeque… and it isn’t yours, either. I have to believe Sam will be fine. Otherwise — ”

  “You can lie to yourself all you want, old friend, I know better.” George returned to looking out over the Stargate. He sighed. “You never get used to it. The waiting, I mean.”

  “The burden of command,” Jacob said. He knew it too well. “Between Selmak’s memories, and my time as an Air Force General, I could share stories that would make your hair stand on end.”

  As soon as his bald friend raised an eyebrow, Jacob gave an apologetic grin at the metaphor.

  “The worst part,” George said softly, “is having to balance what’s right with what’s necessary. I swore an oath, and I’ll stand by it, no matter what, but having to send good men and women into an enemy stronghold, with their hands tied behind their backs. It’s just plain wrong.”

  “Sneaking those P90s in their packs wasn’t exactly a hands tied behind the back course of action,” Jacob replied. “Not that I’m complaining, but is that bit of foresight going to get you into trouble with the president?”

  “At the end of the day, this president’s only going to care about results — ”

  “And protecting his rear end. Which is something you and SG-1 have done pretty damn well these past six-and-a-half years, George. Don’t forget that.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ear.”

  With that, George fell silent.

  Jacob stood by his side, looking down into the gate-room below. It was practically abandoned with only a few guards on standby and a technician poking around by one of the neighboring monitors. The gate lay dormant, a silent sentinel, with answers to share, if only someone could figure out the right questions.

  He wished that he could be that someone. Part of him felt like this whole fiasco was his fault. No wonder the council didn’t know about the modified zats. If anyone should, it was him. He’d been on Yu’s planet a good half a dozen times. If anyone should be taking the fall for this mess, it was him.

  He told George as much.

  “You can’t blame yourself. You didn’t know.”

  Jacob snorted. “That’s easy for you to say, your kid isn’t out there — ”

  George shook his head. “They’re all my kids, Jacob. It’s one of the privileges, and I’ll admit, downsides of command. I care deeply about each of them as if they were my own sons and daughters.”

  “Even Jack?”

  George chuckled. “Especially Jack.”

  The lights flicked on.

  “General Hammond?” Major Davis entered the briefing room from George’s office with two folders under his arm. A worried Dr. Frasier followed close behind.

  “What is it, Major?”

  “Sir, I’ve done some digging into Ambassador Huang.” As Davis handed George one of the folders, Jacob noticed the words ‘Top Secret’ stamped on its cover. “The president’s been informed and asked that I brief you as well.”

  With a scowl, George took the folder. “Where is Huang now?”

  “In the infirmary, General,” said Dr. Frasier. “He’s unresponsive, suffering from what I’d define as clinical catatonia. Whatever happened, it was enough to make him snap.”

  Jacob thought about that for a moment. Huang had been fine. Arrogant and pretty damned pleased with himself, actually. Even in the early phases of SG-1’s battle with Yu’s Jaffa. Right up until the moment when… what? What happened to turn Huang from a self-righteous bastard into an emotionally wrought and frightened old man?

  And yes, Huang had most certainly become frightened.

  But why?

  “Did you draw a blood sample for DNA analysis?” Jacob asked. Too much was still unanswered. About Huang. About those four bodies on P3Y-702.

  About how it all tied into Yu.

  “Blood’s been drawn,” Dr. Frasier said. “We should have results in a few days, though I don’t think they’re going to tell us anything we don’t already know. Huang’s not a Goa’uld, and he’s not Jaffa. Whoever he is, his genome’s beyond rare. It doesn’t fit with today’s population.”

  “Even so, keep me informed once you have results.” George tossed the folder on the table. “Jacob, I assume we can count on Selmak’s assistance?”

  “Not a problem.”

  “What about Dr. Hopkins, sir?” asked Dr. Frasier. “He might be of more help.”

  “I don’t see how,” George said. Jacob happened to agree with him. Working with Dr. Frasier made sense, plus she had a first-rate mind.

  An o
pen mind, Selmak added.

  Amen to that, Jacob responded silently. If the doc didn’t understand something, she was the first to admit it. Hopkins, on the other hand, was a first-rate jerk. His high and mighty ‘I know better than you’ attitude would be a waste of time and breath.

  Dr. Frasier must have been more tolerant of that sort of thing because she protested, “General, without Daniel here, shouldn’t we avail ourselves of Dr. Hopkins’ expertise in placing our findings in context? Ancient Chinese culture is his specialty.”

  Jacob weighed in. “If he can control that ego of his. Hopkins makes the Tok’ra look meek in comparison.”

  George pressed his lips together in that manner he had when he wasn’t happy. Finally, he said, “Let me speak with him first. Then I’ll make my final decision.”

  “Fair enough.”

  George turned to Major Davis. “Does the president intend to confront the Chinese for sending what, for all intents and purposes, appears to be a Goa’uld spy?”

  “He already has, General.” Davis tugged at his necktie. A clear sign that he wasn’t looking forward to making his report. “The Chinese government was as surprised by Huang’s behavior as we were. Apparently, he was a last moment substitution when their previous ambassador suddenly took ill.”

  “I’ll bet Huang had something to do with that as well,” Jacob said.

  “Apparently, he did,” Davis said. “The Chinese found evidence of a biochemical virus in a vial stored in Huang’s apartment in Beijing. The same virus which afflicted the real ambassador.”

  “But the Chinese have no explanation for Huang’s collusion with Lord Yu?” George asked.

  “None at all, sir.” Davis tugged his tie again. Poor guy was a nervous wreck. “They’re shocked. Huang was a longtime member of the Chinese diplomatic corps. He’d been with them for over thirty years.”

  Jacob felt his eyebrows shoot up. “A Goa’uld operative on Earth for at least thirty years… How is that even possible?”

  “Right now we have no way of knowing.” Davis fiddled with his necktie again. “More importantly, they want him back.”

  “The Chinese? I don’t think so,” George said.