Female of the Species

by Geonn Cannon

  “You claim Viaxeiro is inescapable, but you’re equally certain there’s a way out?”

  “Never thought anyone could use a Stargate to blow up a sun. I don’t think anything is impossible when you’re involved. Escaping right now is just needlessly dangerous. We should wait until we’re at the prison where you’ll have time to think of a solid plan.” She rested her head against the wall. “You’ll figure it out.”

  “No one bats a thousand all the time. One of these days I’m bound to come up short.”

  Vala chuckled under her breath. “I have faith.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I spent my entire adult life avoiding prison or capture of any sort. Here I am, walking into the place parents use to scare kids into staying on the straight and narrow, and I’m calm as can be. Why? Because I’m going in with you. So I know I’m not going to be there long. This is just another adventure, part of being a member of SG-1.”

  Sam had to smile. “I wish I had some of that confidence.”

  “It’s okay. I have more than enough for the both of us.”

  Sam chuckled. There was a change of pitch in the engine noise, indicating they had just drastically reduced speed. Sam’s good humor faded.

  “Okay, moment of truth. You’re absolutely certain escape is the wrong move?”

  “One hundred percent,” Vala said. “We’re completely outmatched right now. The smarter move is to cooperate until we have more information.”

  The door opened and Nyoman returned. This time he was accompanied by two larger men carrying Goa’uld pain sticks. He smiled at Vala.

  “Ah, so good you’ve joined us. We’re about to arrive at our first destination. Are you ladies going to cooperate or are we going to have to use some… persuasion?”

  The goons were clearly hoping for the latter. One of them twirled the stick between his thumb and forefinger, eager for the chance to use it. Sam envisioned several versions of the next few minutes, all of which would require taking out all three men without one of the pain sticks making contact with her skin. There was also the fact that, if she attacked them, one of the men might be clever enough to threaten Vala instead of joining the fray. She would be helpless if she was jabbed with those sticks. Vala’s plan to just go along with their transport went against everything she believed, but she couldn’t deny it was the right thing to do.

  “We’ll go quietly,” Sam said.

  Nyoman beamed. “Excellent news! On your feet, ladies.”

  The goons, disappointed, put down the pain sticks and moved to help Sam and Vala stand up. One clamped his hand on Sam’s elbow while the other bent down to unlock Vala’s feet. He pulled her up and closed his hand high on the shoulder near her neck, then squeezed hard enough to make Vala’s entire body twist.

  “Watch it!” Vala said. “Don’t want to bruise the merchandise.”

  Nyoman said, “We’re supposed to bring you in alive. No one said anything about unmarked. You just keep that in mind.”

  They were marched out of the cramped closet and into a corridor. Two more men were armed with pistols she’d seen the Lucian Alliance carry. Just a few weeks ago, SG-1 had been targeted by the Alliance because Netan was sick of them messing with his plans. Bounty hunters descended on Earth in the hopes of cashing in on the high price the team would get. Sam knew that the solution they’d come up with hadn’t been permanent, but she’d hoped it would be a little longer before she had to deal with bounty hunters again.

  Nyoman urged them forward, around a corner to a large hatch which was standing open to the emptiness of space. Sam saw the shimmer of a force field, but the sight was still enough to make her blood go cold. Her “fight back” scenario now included a moment when Nyoman decided to cut his losses and order the force field to be dropped.

  “What is this?” Sam said. “I thought we’d landed.”

  “Neutral territory.” Nyoman put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her forward. “We don’t trust the fellows we’re meeting, and they don’t trust us. This is a compromise. We let go of you, they deliver our payment, and they’re free to snatch you up.”

  “And if they don’t snatch us up?” Sam said.

  “Not really my problem as long as I get my fee, love.”

  One of the goons opened a panel on the wall and withdrew a pair of bizarre facemasks. Each one was comprised of two eyepieces with a rubber seal over a circular metallic lock that would fit over their nose and mouth. He handed one to Nyoman and began to put the other on Vala.

  “Get that thing away from me!”

  Nyoman sighed. “This is a breather. It won’t keep you alive, but it’ll stop you from dying just long enough for the other ship to pull you aboard. That’s all it is.”

  Sam nodded slightly. No point in fighting, and it was the only way they’d survive what was about to happen. The ironic thing was that she’d done this before, just from the other end. She used the rings to pull General O’Neill and Teal’c out of a malfunctioning glider using the same risky maneuver. She was sure Jack would appreciate the tables being turned, if she lived long enough to tell him about it.

  Nyoman moved them closer to the open door and stood between them. Sam could feel the energy of the force field on her bits of exposed skin. She knew that what was about to happen was survivable, but she also knew enough about the science to be wary. Vala looked at her, eyes magnified to a comical size by the lenses. One of the men responded to a chirp from the control panel and moved to read the screen.

  “They’re ready to initiate the transfer.”

  Nyoman put his hands on their shoulders. “Well, my dears, it’s been lovely having you as guests on my ship. Thank you for not making our time together any more difficult than it had to be. I would wish you fair travels until our paths meet again, but whether you die in the next few seconds or actually make it to your destination, I doubt we will ever meet again in this cycle. So I will simply say, good — ”

  The end of the word was cut off as they were shoved through the force field. The energy momentarily buzzed in Sam’s ears, like a static shock from touching a doorknob spread out over her entire body. She was suddenly and unexpectedly weightless, hands still bound as if she were praying. She twisted and saw Vala floating nearby. A freighter loomed above them, huge and immobile. There was no sign of the rings being deployed. If she and Vala drifted too far from each other, or if they were exposed to the vacuum for too long, or…

  She counted off the seconds in her head as she waited for the rings to deploy. She got to nine before she began to panic. At thirteen, she saw the bottom of the ship open and braced herself for a sudden return to atmosphere. They vanished in a flash of light, off on the next leg of their journey.

  CHAPTER SIX

  CAM’S GRANDMA swore by her hot toddy remedy for a sore throat: honey and ginger mixed in a tall glass of warm tea. Of course, when he got older he realized that his grandma always used whiskey when she made it for herself, and he wasn’t exactly suffering from a real sore throat, but the mixture still helped. He wasn’t coughing as much as he had when they first got back from Pezjena. Landry was understandably annoyed that they’d managed to lose both Vala and Carter, therefore necessitating the rescue mission. Landry wasn’t too keen on the mission in the first place. Now that they were being forced to do it, he was grumpier than usual.

  The worst part was that for the moment, they couldn’t do anything at all. The ship which had taken their teammates was no doubt long gone from the planet even before SG-1 had gone into the bar. In the time it would take the Odyssey to get to the system, any hint of a trail would’ve been a distant memory. It wasn’t like they could just waltz back into the tavern and start asking questions. He hated being on the base with only part of his team. They needed to be out there kicking down doors and getting answers, but he didn’t even know where to start.

  Faced with no other possibility, he took his hot toddy tea down to the infirmary to check on the one imperiled member of his team whose wherea
bouts he actually knew. He arrived just as Carolyn Lam was walking toward her office, and he quickened his pace to keep up with her.

  “Doctor Lam.”

  She turned around and her eyes immediately went to the coffee cup in his hand. “Is that for me?”

  He was thrown. “No. Why would I bring you coffee?”

  “Sometimes people bring me things.” She continued on her way, marking something on the chart she was carrying. “Nice people.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. I was actually just going to check on Teal’c. How’s he doing?”

  She sighed and stopped. “Well, technically, he’s doing better than you are, since he actually agreed to be checked out.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Dr. Jackson said you were lifted off the ground by your throat.”

  “He… exaggerates.”

  She looked pointedly at his bruised neck. “Really.”

  He tugged at the collar of his uniform in a futile attempt to cover the bruises.

  Carolyn sighed and looked at her chart. “Teal’c is in pretty rough shape, despite what he might say. He never allowed himself to completely heal after the peace summit attack. Then he ran off and almost got himself killed by Arkad.”

  “He also got in a brawl with me.”

  Carolyn raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, come on, I did a little damage.”

  “Of course you did.” She folded her arms with the chart against her chest. “Look, Teal’c’s been through a lot recently. He spent a century with a symbiote which took care of every injury he got and I think he’s still getting used to the idea that his wounds won’t heal as easily anymore.”

  Cam’s expression darkened. “Yeah, that’s a pretty tough pill for anyone to swallow. I’ll talk to him.”

  “Good luck.”

  “You have to understand, it’s not as easy as… just… taking it easy. When you’re in the thick of things, you don’t always have time to think about how dangerous it is. Sometimes you’ve just got to throw yourself into the fire and hope for the best. It’s easy to sit here at the SGC and count scars and tell us we’re pushing ourselves too far when you haven’t actually seen what we’re going through out there.”

  “Are you saying I don’t understand you?” Carolyn said, her voice was light, but Cam could tell she was offended.

  “I didn’t mean that. And I’m not implying anything about your mettle or whatever. But we’re on the front lines. We’re going to get a few bumps and bruises along the way.”

  “Well, if you aren’t careful, one of these days you’ll get a bump or bruise that you can’t come back from.” Carolyn started back toward her office. “Oh, and Colonel…”

  “I’ll let one of your nurses check me out before I go.”

  She said, “That’s all I ask.”

  Cam continued into the main room of the infirmary, where Teal’c was resting in one of the beds along the far wall. Compared to the last two times he’d been laid up in the infirmary, he didn’t look bad at all. There was a darkening bruise on his chin and a bandage on his upper arm. Most of the damage was from previous injuries which were aggravated by the brawl. Carolyn was probably only keeping him in the infirmary so long as a punishment for getting hurt yet again. It was the SGC equivalent of a time-out.

  Teal’c turned his head slightly at Cam’s approach but gave no other indication he was no longer alone. Cam took a seat next to the bed and waited. Teal’c waited.

  “So…”

  “I assure you,” Teal’c interrupted, “anything you are preparing to say has been said, at length, by Dr. Lam and her staff.”

  Cam said, “Oh, I don’t know. I probably have a few insights they don’t have. I know what it’s like to be lying in that bed, man. You’re hurting like you’ve never hurt before, and you think it might not ever get better. You think, this is what it’s gonna be from now on. This pain. Feeling weak. And then one morning you wake up and it doesn’t hurt as bad, so you’re ready to jump right back in and prove you’re the same guy you were before. I hate to break it to you, buddy, but you’re not the same guy you were before. I never knew you when you had… when you were, uh…”

  “Junior.”

  “What?”

  “O’Neill referred to my symbiote as Junior. I believe the name made it easier for him to discuss.”

  Cam said, “You’re probably right about that. Anyway. I have no doubt you were a big, badass Jaffa in those days, but I’ve only known you on tretonin. And you’re still the biggest, baddest guy I’ve ever served with. But you need to give yourself time to heal. Especially after the things you’ve gone through lately. You were in a coma for two weeks, and Lam thought you might never walk again. And then you picked a fight with a guy who was stronger and more brutal than you ever were. He ran you through with a damn sword! And you’re still not giving yourself time to heal.”

  Teal’c worked his jaw for a long moment before he responded. “Arkad taunted me during our fight. He called me soft… frail. I believe he spoke the truth.”

  “Come on, man.”

  “He was not referring to the tretonin. He spoke instead of my time among the Tau’ri. I found it difficult to counter his argument. I am no longer the warrior I once was.”

  Cam sighed. “So what if you’re not? What does that even mean? That you’re not out there choosing which people to slaughter so others can survive? You made a lot of choices in the name of the greater good back in the day, and to me, that makes you a greater warrior than anyone with a higher body count. Anyone can kill. You found ways to save people. And sure, you had to kill sometimes. But you’re not that man anymore. You were a conqueror, now you’re a soldier. You’re a diplomat. You’re a politician. You’re still doing the same thing you always did. You’re still fighting to help people, just without as much bloodshed.”

  Teal’c said nothing.

  “The point is, we need you out there as much as we always did. You think you’re just the muscle? We just want you around to bust heads? You’re so much more than that. You’re the comic relief.”

  He turned his head and raised his eyebrow.

  Cam sighed. “Okay, that was a joke. But I’m dead serious. Teal’c, you’re the guy who stood up against false gods and knocked them off their pedestals. You were one of the first dudes to turn against a false religion, turn against a man you were taught to worship as a god, and you got to see him die. We’re out there dealing with die-hard Ori worshippers who need to hear that from someone who has been there. You might be the only hope we have of convincing them they have a chance, and you’re not going to do that by busting their heads.”

  Teal’c locked his gaze on the ceiling.

  Cam put his hand on Teal’c’s shoulder. “The point is, it was never about how much punishment you can take or how many guys you can fight at once. You are still the same man. Just like I’m the same guy I was before the crash. We’re just fighting in different ways now. Come back when you’re ready.”

  He waited for acknowledgement, but Teal’c continued to stare at the ceiling, unmoving. Cam took a deep breath and stood up. “I’m going to go see if Jackson’s come up with any bright ideas. I’ll come check on you later.”

  He was at the door before Teal’c spoke. “Colonel Mitchell.”

  “Yeah?”

  Teal’c still wasn’t looking at him. “Thank you.”

  “Any time, buddy.”

  He wasn’t sure if he’d actually gotten through or if Teal’c simply appreciated the effort he’d taken. Either way, he knew one pep talk wasn’t going to permanently solve anything. But if it kept Teal’c in the infirmary until Dr. Lam agreed to release him, then he’d take it as a victory.

  ~#~

  Landry couldn’t say he was happy. But he also couldn’t be overly upset, since the parameters he laid out gave SG-1 final say in whether to continue with the mission. In a way, they were doing exactly that. They chose to go ahead. He just wished they weren’t being force
d into the choice. He hated the fact that two members of the team were now God-knew-where in the clutches of God-knew-who, but that was simply how things seemed to go at this base. He couldn’t predict how or where a mission could go wrong. He could only trust his people to do the best with the hands they were dealt. That didn’t mean it would be easy to explain to the IOA how he’d lost track of someone as important as Samantha Carter. He wanted to have a plan before he even revealed the situation.

  Unfortunately, Daniel wasn’t of much help on that front. “Even if we sent in another team he wouldn’t recognize, I highly doubt this Kavma guy would be forthcoming with information. Trapping Vala and Tanis to hand them over to this prison was personal for him. He did it because Vala had stolen from him. We’re not going to convince him to help us.”

  Landry went to the carafe by the window to refill his mug. “Assuming he wouldn’t just lie and trap the rest of SG-1 the way he did Carter. Guilt by association, I think he said.”

  “Right,” Daniel said. “Well, we don’t necessarily have to worry about tracking them. We know exactly where they’ll end up, we just don’t know where that is.”

  “So all we have to do is find the unfindable, inescapable prison and have the Odyssey swing by to pick them up. We can beam them out, or put boots on the ground. Either way, we’ll get them back.” He hefted the carafe. It seemed emptier than it should’ve been, but he couldn’t imagine who would dare to sneak coffee from his office. “When you put it like that, it sounds simple.”

  “Doesn’t it?” Daniel said.

  Landry took his coffee back behind his desk and took a seat. “I could try explaining to them that the purpose of this mission was to prevent situations just like this. If we had assets inside the Lucian Alliance to turn to, maybe they could provide leads we could follow to find this damn prison.” Daniel’s posture changed slightly, just enough that Landry could tell he’d had an idea. He raised his eyebrows. “Dr. Jackson?”