by Geonn Cannon
“I didn’t expect a rescue, so I let myself consider what it would be like to have a home. To settle down in one place. I liked it a lot more than I expected. So if I’m going to eventually grow roots somewhere, this place is a lot nicer than my other options.”
Vala thought about what awaited Tanis if she came to Earth: a cold windowless room deep underground. The SGC would treat her well, would take care of the basic amenities, but she knew they would never see her as anything but a threat and a villain. She pushed that aside and forced a smile.
“But it’ll be even nicer if you’re the one making the rules.”
Tanis grinned, showing her teeth. “It’s in my nature. Why bother to change this late in the game? I truly am sorry you got snared in the same trap. Getting that warning out to you was tough, but I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Vala said, “Honestly, if you hadn’t sent the message, I never would have gone looking for you. Whoever set the trap in the first place likely wouldn’t have gotten past the SGC defenses without you providing the note. On Earth they call that a Trojan Horse…”
“Wait, are you saying it’s my fault you’re here?”
Vala flipped her hair. “I’m only presenting the facts, my dear, but if your guilt arranges the story in such a way that—”
“I hope you and your Tau’ri friend both get thrown into the deepest, darkest pit this planet has and you’re never pulled out.”
“At least then we’d be spared any more of your ‘helping.’”
“I’d forgotten how much I hate your accent.”
Vala said, “I don’t have an accent, darling, I merely speak properly.”
“God, such a pretentious ass…”
Vala said, “I have a phenomenal ass.”
Tanis had to smile. “Yeah. It’s not bad.”
Vala chuckled. “I’ve missed this.”
“Me too,” Tanis agreed. She pulled the goggles back down to watch for Sam or any of the other Cai Thior women. “So the Tau’ri… at least tell me there’s potential romance for you there.”
“Oh, yes,” Vala cooed. “Although… well, he’s more of a pet than anything else, but he’s a lot of fun. His name is Daniel…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“SPACE,” MITCHELL muttered, “the dull frontier.”
Teal’c raised an eyebrow and half-turned to face him.
“Yeah, that show probably wouldn’t have done so well.”
He was in the copilot’s seat, while Daniel and Teal’c were seated in two overstuffed chairs which had been inexpertly bolted to the back of Pemphero’s cockpit. Every time the ship shook or rattled, they were rocked roughly back against the cushion or shoved forward against the harnesses. The ship seemed unusually susceptible to space turbulence, a phenomenon Sam had once explained to Daniel but he couldn’t repeat back.
Daniel had to admit Mitchell had a point. After they left the Overseers’ station, Pemphero set a course and activated a small screen on his console which revealed a long string of text. He appeared to be reading a novel. Through the viewer ahead, they saw nothing but the familiar purple streak of hyperspace. Pemphero’s hand was under his chin, lower jaw out, eyes barely open as he read. The screen seemed to be aware of his reading speed and scrolled automatically.
“Seriously,” Mitchell said, “No little bags of peanuts or drink service…?”
“I didn’t plan for passengers,” Pemphero muttered, barely opening his mouth. “If you’re bored, go watch the prisoners.”
Daniel unhooked his harness. “You know, I think I’ll do that.”
He stumbled slightly when they were hit by another wave of solar energy, exacerbated by their high speeds - or something like that - and braced himself against the wall as he continued to the back of the ship. It was designed around a central power source, much like the Ori vessels. The corridors curved around the engine so that the inner wall vibrated from the engine and the outer wall separated them from the vacuum. The cockpit was perched on top of the ring, like the head of a turtle, and the prisoners were being kept in a holding cell at the back.
Daniel stopped at the force field that made up the edge of their cell. Carolyn was sitting against one wall, her legs folded in front of her. Her head was resting against the wall, eyes closed. She was still wearing the restraints. Daniel watched her for a moment and then backed up to leave.
“Dr. Jackson?”
“Sorry. I thought you were sleeping.”
“Resting my eyes.” She lifted her head and glanced at the other prisoner. The woman had still been unconscious when they arrived at the ship. “I figured we have no idea when we’ll get another chance to rest, so I might as well take advantage of it.”
Daniel nodded. “Jack felt the same way.” He checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “I wanted to apologize…”
“Nothing to apologize for.”
“We were rougher than we had to be when we brought you in here.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously, I’m fine. You had to make it look good for Pemphero.”
“Be that as it may… sorry.”
“It’s appreciated. Any idea how long it will be before we reach Viaxeiro?”
Daniel shook his head. “He seemed to be settled in for a long haul.”
“Like… Los Angeles to New York…?”
“More like Los Angeles to Moscow.”
Carolyn winced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. We’ll make sure you get fed and get a chance to get up and stretch your legs.”
She nodded and rested her head against the wall. “I’ve been thinking about Colonel Carter’s reputation on the base. One thing that everyone always talks about is her dedication when someone is missing. She figured out the gate mechanics when Teal’c was stuck in the buffer. She refused to give up when the gate was buried on Edora and General O’Neill got trapped. In fact, the only time they imply that she ever gave up hope was when you died.”
“Which time?”
“The longest time, when you were ascended. General O’Neill and Teal’c are both on the record as saying they knew you’d come back sometime. Colonel Carter seemed to make peace with the fact you were gone for good.”
Daniel smiled and looked at the floor, his shoulder against the wall. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s not accurate?”
“No, I suppose it’s… technically accurate that she gave up hope. I may not remember everything about that time, but I do remember that. I kept an eye on everyone when I was gone. When they needed me, I let them see me so I could offer advice. I never let Sam see me. I never revealed myself to her, never let her see the evidence that some part of me still existed. I did that because Jack wrote it off as a side effect of the torture he was under from Ba’al and the fact a Tok’ra had just been living inside his head. Teal’c also let himself believe it was just a hallucination. But I knew that if I showed myself to Sam, even for a second, even for the briefest of pep talks, she would have done whatever it took to get me back. She would have ripped open the sky and kicked the ass of every Ascended being who got in her way until she found me.”
Carolyn smiled.
“Sam doesn’t give up on her people. Not when there’s a chance.”
“That’s good to know, Dr. Jackson. I think I can stand a little discomfort. For her sake.”
He nodded. “Let us know if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
Daniel returned to the cockpit. “So, Pemphero. You been in the, uh… transport game long?”
The pilot didn’t look away from whatever he was reading. “All my life. As soon as I could get around a ship without getting in people’s way, my father was taking me along. People in my family have been taking criminals to Viaxeiro for as long as anyone can remember.”
“Wow,” Mitchell said. “You know, my pals here are old timers like you, but I’m sort of new to this whole thing. Who sentences women to this place?”
&n
bsp; Pemphero rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face. “Well, to use my current transport as an example, she was caught raiding a Goa’uld armory and charged with desecrating a holy site.” He chuckled and waved his hand at the screen. “Out here, you know, on the fringes, the Goa’uld hardly ever actually made an appearance. So their downfall really wasn’t that big of a deal. That’s one thing I’ve noticed on most of the worlds I’ve been to. Religion marches on even if the person being worshipped stops showing up.”
“I’ve noticed that myself,” Daniel said.
“Her defense was that their god had been killed, so anything he left behind was up for grabs.”
Mitchell said, “I bet that went over well.”
Pemphero scoffed. “She was labeled as a heretic. Not worthy of being incarcerated in their planet’s fine institutions. That’s where I came in. They commissioned me to exile her with all the other bad eggs. How about you?” He looked at Daniel. “What crime did this Ma Barker of yours commit?”
“Pirating music.”
Pemphero thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I’m not familiar with that. Is it bad?”
Mitchell said, “One of the worst things you can do. Back where we’re from, everyone from twelve-year-old kids to little old grannies are going down and they’re going down hard. It’s the only way they’ll learn. She’s definitely getting what she deserves.”
Pemphero hmphed and folded his hands over his stomach as he faced forward again. “I’ve taken over four dozen prisoners to Viaxeiro. By the time I retire, I’ll probably take four dozen more. I’ve never regretted any of them.”
“Four dozen?” Daniel said. He hadn’t thought much about how large the prison was, but if one man was responsible for that many transports, and there were multiple people dropping prisoners off… That implied a pretty sizable population. “You aren’t concerned about them organizing? What if you show up to drop someone off and there’s an army waiting for you?”
He smiled and rocked his head from side to side, dismissive. “There have been uprisings in the past. They’re quickly put down by the guards. You know the landmines mean there’s no way for them to get close enough to the ship to take it over. If the prisoners do try something, we have the authority to turn any condemned woman’s incarceration into a death sentence.”
Daniel shifted uncomfortably. He and Mitchell exchanged a look.
“You know,” Pemphero said slowly, “it strikes me that a lot of this is information you should already know.”
Mitchell said, “It’s my fault. I’m the new guy. Skipped orientation.”
Pemphero smiled. “Oh. Okay. Sure.” He leaned forward and tapped the console.
“What are you doing?” Daniel said.
“In one hundred seconds, the back compartment of this ship will vent into space.”
Mitchell said, “Are you insane?”
Pemphero held his hands out. “Ninety seconds now. Either tell me who you really are, or that woman you brought aboard is getting dropped off a little earlier than expected.”
~#~
Before Daniel could speak, Teal’c rose from his seat and jogged from the cockpit. Pemphero moved to stop him, but Mitchell shot one leg out and tripped the diminutive pilot. Teal’c was counting down in his head, well aware that he would be cutting it close. He arrived at the cell and wasted three seconds examining the control panel for the force field.
“Teal’c…?”
He ignored Carolyn’s question and grabbed the edges of the panel with both hands. He pulled it free, cracking a section of the hull, and exposed the crystals that powered the field. He unholstered his zat, stepped back, and fired. With ten seconds left until the hatch opened, the field collapsed. Teal’c grabbed Carolyn and pulled her out. He moved around her, grabbed the still-unconscious other prisoner, and carried her to the corridor.
“Go!” he bellowed.
Carolyn ran toward the cockpit as the back wall of the holding cell split down the middle. The gap widened and the air was pulled out into the vacuum with enough force that Teal’c felt as if gravity had shifted. He could feel it battering his face and chest, making it impossible to take a breath or continue forward. It took everything he had to remain standing, but he couldn’t fall without crushing the woman in his arms. Ahead, he could see Carolyn holding onto the entryway to the cockpit, her body parallel to the ground.
~#~
When the hangar opened, Mitchell and Pemphero both slid across the floor like hockey pucks. Mitchell braced one leg against the back wall, one arm wrapped around Pemphero’s neck.
“Jackson!” he yelled.
Daniel ignored him, just as he was ignoring the incredible pressure on his chest. There was no more oxygen, and he could feel invisible hands trying to pull him from the chair and out of the ship. He knew Pemphero must have been planning for the force field to protect them from decompression. Now there were lights flashing all over the controls, but he had no idea which ones would save them.
Universal symbols, colors, flashing lights mean bad, he thought, falling back on the knowledge which had always served him well in the past. He pressed two fingers to the screen, jabbing blind near where the alerts seemed to be. He looked for symbols as his chest burned from the lack of oxygen. His vision blurred. Then he saw a small graphic that seemed to be doors. He slapped his hand against it and the invisible fingers released him. He heard bodies falling behind him as the hangar doors closed, and he let himself sag forward against the console.
He tried to take a breath; couldn’t. It dawned on him that shutting the hangar door had only kept them from being expelled into space. The ship was now emptied of air. He gasped, clutched his throat, and spun the chair to look toward Pemphero.
The pilot had already wriggled away from Mitchell. He lurched forward, shoved Daniel out of the way, and punched a sequence of commands onto the display. There was a click, a loud whirr, and then air rushed back into the cockpit. Daniel drew in a deep and glorious breath. Pemphero breathed in with his eyes closed, as if savoring the best smell in the universe.
Teal’c put a hand on Pemphero’s shoulder. He repositioned the smaller man, then punched him hard enough that Pemphero was unconscious even before he hit the ground.
Mitchell had crawled over to Carolyn to make sure she was okay. Teal’c had left the prisoner in the doorway, her chin resting on her chest. She had somehow managed to remain unconscious throughout the entire ordeal. Daniel coughed and sagged in the chair, while Teal’c stumbled back to his seat and dropped heavily against the cushions. The only sound in the cockpit was the whoosh of air being reintroduced and the coughing, panting sounds of SG-1 getting their collective breath back.
“Okay,” Mitchell said, coughing into the bend of his elbow. “Next time, we work out a better story before we get on a ship. Agreed?”
“I can get behind that plan,” Carolyn said.
“As can I,” Teal’c said.
Mitchell got to his feet, still using the wall as support. “Jackson, you think you can figure out these systems before Pemphero here wakes up?”
Daniel turned the chair to face the console again. “I don’t think I have to. When we got onboard, Pemphero uploaded something from the station. I think it was the current coordinates of the prison.”
Carolyn said, “Unless he planned to make a pit stop first.”
“I don’t think so,” Daniel said. “The prison is on a planemo, which is constantly in motion. I think the station automatically calculates where it is based on when the information is requested. The information wouldn’t be accurate an hour from now, or maybe even five minutes from now depending on how fast it travels.”
Mitchell said, “Really? So after jumping through all these hoops of finding Odai, finding the Overseers, finding someone with the right coordinates…”
Daniel looked out the view screens at the hyperspace waves. “Next stop, Viaxeiro.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THERE WAS something
comforting about putting on a uniform, even if it wasn’t her standard BDU. The blouse was actually two pieces of cloth sandwiching a thin plate of metal. It was still malleable enough that it hung naturally off her frame and it didn’t add much weight to the outfit. She hoped she would be able to take a sample of it with her when she left; armor like this could save countless lives. Once she was dressed, Sam adjusted the orange tunic, straightened the black cuffs, and made sure the belt was comfortably tight before she went to find Sukhan. Her search was actually a way to explore without Lokelani breathing down her neck.
The house—or to put it more accurately, stronghold—was three stories tall. She found a heavily-secured door which may have led down to a basement level, but she didn’t feel comfortable trying to pick the lock until she had more time. She moved on and found a fully-stocked pantry which led into a kitchen where any number of professional chefs would feel right at home.
The contrast with the cold-water where she’d spent the night was jarring. There was definitely a hierarchy at play, and Lokelani seemed to be playing it perfectly to her advantage. Sam allowed herself a brief glimmer of hope. If Lokelani was lying about how many supplies were coming to Viaxeiro, then there was also a chance she was lying about the possibility of escape. She’d been in power long enough that she could have spread rumors to secure her position. It only took a few generations before a rumor became myth, and the myth could easily become gospel.
Just beyond the kitchen, she found a corridor which led across the courtyard to a smaller, much more modest building. The main room was sectioned off by long wooden tables that were filled to the point of collapse with boxes of food, tools, flatware, and other various items Sam assumed had been dropped off by supply ships.
Three Cai Thior women with small ledgers were cataloguing the items, but only one noticed Sam standing in the doorway. She was taller than the rest, older, and wore her long graying hair pulled back in a severe knot. She put down her book and offered a slow, appraising look.
“You must be the new arrival.”
