SG1-24 Two Roads

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SG1-24 Two Roads Page 10

by Cannon, Geonn


  “We are attempting to do more than prevent this attack, Daniel Jackson. A Goa’uld making such a decisive blow from beyond the grave would be seen as a sign that they have the power of the gods. Stopping Kali’s machinations will do much to shore up our burgeoning nation. Our actions on Dakara brought the Goa’uld to their knees and opened the door for a final, decisive victory. With luck, this will be the moment that proves once and for all that the Goa’uld are fallible.”

  “Well then,” Daniel said. “What are we waiting for? Next stop, Teunus.”

  Vala startled awake, choking on a gasp of fear and confusion. Her arms were tense, fingers curling into fists as she fought the instinct to lash out. She only remembered being in some sort of peril before she passed out, but the details were too hazy for her to lock onto. She was dressed in a flimsy golden gown threaded with stripes of silver, cut low at the collar to show off her décolletage. She was lying on a massive bed in the center of an oval room, the sides of the mattress draped with curtains suspended from the ceiling to create a privacy screen.

  “No. This can’t be real.” She slid to the edge of the bed and dropped her feet to the floor. There were slippers waiting for her, but she ignored them. She recognized this room, understood what it meant, and the knowledge terrified her. She stood up and ran to the door, waiting a moment before she crossed the threshold into the corridor. The halls were empty, as she remembered, but she knew that wouldn’t last long. She could already hear voices being raised outside, the angry crowd closing in on the palace. The gown flew out behind her like streamers as she ran, choosing left instead of right as she had so many years earlier.

  She entered her throne room and came up short in front of her throne. The back had been broken in two places and the ornate carving at the top was shattered on the ground. Tapestries that had flanked her elevated platform were shredded as well. She felt her panic and nausea rising as she moved closer. A few days ago the people of the village approached her palace en masse. Her Jaffa tried to stop their approach but they were quickly outnumbered. Staff weapons were deflected by rough-hewn clubs, while thrown rocks opened cuts in the Jaffa’s foreheads so they were blinded by their own blood.

  In the past, in reality, she had tried escaping through the secret side entrance only to find a mob waiting for her there. She had been captured, tortured, and beaten until the Tok’ra who incited the violence in the first place took pity on her and saved her life. This time she wouldn’t take her chances. There was a tel’tak in the courtyard. She could use it to escape.

  But if she wasn’t rescued by the Tok’ra, she would never get Qetesh out of her head. Did she have to suffer such violence and degradation simply to live as herself? No. No, she would find another way to get the Goa’uld out of her head. She couldn’t bear to go through that ordeal again. She stared at the throne and thought of all the horrible things she had witnessed from that seat. Witnessed… that was a kind way of putting it. She had caused pain and death, ordered torture, and she had watched it gleefully. Tears burned her eyes as she remembered the horrors Qetesh had wrought with her hands.

  You enjoyed it, an evil, familiar voice echoed in her head. Vengeance on your enemies, on those who had laughed at you and ignored you. Finally you were the powerful one and you enjoyed every moment of your triumph.

  “Lies!” Vala’s voice shuddered but she refused to let herself cry. She couldn’t let the Goa’uld get to her, not after being free of it for so long.

  Somewhere a door shattered. She realized she had lingered far too long in her reverie and looked for an exit, some way to avoid what she knew was coming next, but the room filled quickly with people she had once called friends. She retreated back toward her throne, wishing she had a weapon but knowing she couldn’t have wielded one even if it appeared. She had already caused these people too much pain. She deserved what they were going to do, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

  “Please… I’m sorry… it wasn’t me!”

  The first stone hit her in the arm. She cried out more from surprise than pain. She held the sore spot, knowing a bruise would bloom soon enough. If history repeated itself she would soon be covered by welts and cuts. Someone shouted that she was a false god, his voice echoing off the high stone walls, and soon others joined him. Their cries were deafening as they closed in on her. More stones were tossed and her name was cursed. Vala covered her head when they descended, beating her with fists and various weapons. It wasn’t long before she was thrown off balance and curled into a ball to protect her stomach.

  Part of her knew the moment couldn’t be real, knew it was all just a remnant of her distant past. She knew she had survived this ordeal relatively intact. Another part of her thought maybe the past decade had been a hallucination created by her cracked mind to free her, however temporarily, from this hell. Maybe she had just created her life as a thief and smuggler, maybe she had created Tanis from whole cloth, as a way to deal with the fact the villagers — her friends and neighbors before they were Qetesh’s unwilling worshippers — were slowly beating her to death.

  She had lived in the village before Qetesh came. She had a life, a future, and then she was chosen. Her people didn’t understand that she and the Goa’uld were different creatures. She begged them to stop, but they ignored her cries until she was certain that this time they meant to kill her. They had been at it for days, but this time she knew they would go too far.

  “Stop! Leave her be.”

  Vala collapsed to the ground, bloody and battered, and cringed away when someone hooked their hands under her arms.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “I’m here to help you.”

  It was the Tok’ra. She remembered him now, although she knew this was the first time he’d actually come to her aid. There was something wrong with her mind. She was reliving this moment, but how? Why? She’d worked so hard to suppress the memories of this time, embellishing them and adding whatever elements were required to fit her current lie, and all of her stories had helped diminish the painful truth of what had really happened. And now she was back again. It seemed like a cruel twist of memory.

  The Tok’ra was named Nol’ka, and he half-carried her back to the room where she had been found. He sat her on the edge of the bed where she’d awoken. This time she noticed a door that hadn’t been there in real life; it didn’t match the rest of the décor, and there was a peculiar cyclone symbol etched into it. The Tok’ra opened his bag and slipped a healing device over his hand. Vala barely had time to register it before he started using it. She cringed away at first, but then her pain was replaced by relief and a tingling coolness. Vala let him heal the freshest wounds, the blood drying on her skin as he mended fractures and caused bruises to fade.

  When the worst of the pain had receded, she opened her eyes. Behind him, leaning against the open door, she saw Baleya watching them.

  “You!” Vala suddenly remembered the storeroom on the smuggler’s planet, the gas that had knocked them out. She pushed Nol’ka out of the way, her head clearing enough that she knew that the situation wasn’t real. Her anguish gave way to fury as she realized the entire thing had been created by Baleya to punish her.

  “What did you do to me?”

  “Relax,” Baleya said. “You’re still on my planet, and you’re completely safe. For the most part.” She looked at Vala’s gown, still stained with blood from the violent uprising, arms crossed and face passive. “You were a Goa’uld.”

  Vala took a few steadying breaths, struggling to regain her composure now that she knew she was being manipulated. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her clothes and noticed that she was trembling. She squeezed her hands into fists and held them at her sides before she answered.

  “I was host to Qetesh for a time.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and felt herself slip into the casual nonchalance she usually affected when talking about this dark time. “A Tok’ra incited a rebellion. He was horrified by what happened when the palace w
as raided, so he took pity on me. He saved my life and the symbiote was successfully removed. I survived, but I was… I was no longer welcome among my people. I had to give up everything I had ever known and ventured out with nothing but the clothes on my back.”

  Baleya said, “That’s why Kali’s treasures are so important to you. You want a reminder of a time when you were a Goa’uld and surrounded yourself with gold and jewels.”

  Vala wrinkled her nose. “No. Don’t be ridiculous. The fewer reminders I have of that time the better. I want Kali’s treasures because I lost everything I had when I was Qetesh.” She touched the gown again. “All this glorious, beautiful gold and the trinkets…” She sighed. “By the time the Tok’ra healed me I just wanted to get away from the planet as quickly as possible. I left without taking anything. A fortune, left to rot in a palace. After everything I’d gone through, the horrible things I was forced to witness myself doing, I couldn’t even profit from selling off Qetesh’s things. I lost absolutely everything. Afterward I had to make my way begging, stealing, learning how to survive with the most meager rations imaginable. Meanwhile the people I’d called my friends and family were doing just fine profiting off things they had looted from my palace. They beat me to within an inch of my life and then stole from me. Acquiring the treasure of another female System Lord and then selling it for a tidy profit would be a way for me to make amends for that.”

  Baleya stared at her for a moment as she considered the argument. Finally she made her decision and pointed at the peculiar door. “Walk through there and you’ll be out.”

  “Out?”

  “Just go through the door, Mal Doran. All this will go away. I’ll see you on the other side.”

  Vala frowned, but she was willing to do anything to escape this nightmare. She looked back at Nol’ka, who had been watching the exchange with a look of confused neutrality. Vala crossed to him and cupped his cheek. “Thank you, Nol’ka. I don’t think I bothered saying it back then, and I know it hardly counts now. But thank you for freeing me, and thank you for coming to my aid when those people tried to kill me.”

  “I’m not sure what’s going on here…”

  Vala smiled. “Makes two of us, darling. I hope you’re well, wherever you really are.”

  She left him behind and went to the door. She hesitated only briefly before she put her hand against the symbol and pushed. At first she thought it was simply very bright on the other side, and she squinted as she stepped into the glow. Then she realized that she was propped up against something, her arms strapped to her sides, and there was something sticky pressing against her temples. She tried to tug her hands free but the restraints were too strong.

  The world slowly swam into focus. She was in a chamber on Baleya’s planet, in a cramped room where the walls were lined with tall black clamshell beds. She was strapped into one of the beds, held upright by surprisingly sturdy pipes. She felt groggy, as if she had been drugged and was hungover at the same time, but she forced herself to remain focused. Tanis was just coming to as well, her head hanging forward so that her face was covered by her hair.

  “Tanis? Are you awake?”

  “I don’t know.” After a moment she lifted her head a little further. “Vala? Is that you?”

  “It’s me. I take it Baleya played with one of your deepest, darkest memories as well?”

  Tanis suddenly growled and thrashed against her restraints. “Baleya! That bitch!”

  “Watch the language, my dear Miss Reynard.” Baleya entered the room and Vala tugged at the pipes holding her arms against her chest.

  “Baleya! Let me out of this contraption or so help me…”

  “You’re hardly in a position to make threats. But you can relax. You wouldn’t be awake if I didn’t intend to free you.”

  Baleya touched a console next to the door, and the pipes retreated into the wall. Vala stumbled as they were withdrawn but she managed to find her footing before she fell. Tanis wasn’t quite so coordinated and careened slightly to the left. Vala caught her before she hit the ground, and Tanis recoiled violently from her touch. She drew one arm across her chest and lashed out with the other, nearly clipping Vala’s chin with her knuckles.

  “Easy! Relax, Tanis. It’s just me.”

  Tanis flipped her hair out of her face and squeezed her eyes shut. “Vala. Right.”

  “Sometimes there’s a bit of a recovery period,” Baleya said. “The man who created this technology only used it on a handful of people for a very, very long time. Sometimes there are echoes and lingering auras. They should fade in a couple of minutes.”

  Vala looped an arm around Tanis to keep her upright. “Why? Why would you subject us to that?”

  “You’re the ones who came here under false pretenses and threatened me! You asked me to divulge privileged information about my clients. I didn’t get to where I am by having loose lips and betraying confidences. But I figured there was something behind your actions, so I decided to push you to your limits so I could see what kind of people I’m dealing with. Mal Doran, you’re trying to right a wrong. I can respect that.” She looked at Tanis. “As for you…”

  “I’m with her,” Tanis said. “I’m doing this for her, not for myself. So whatever you saw in there, it’s not valid.”

  Baleya kept her eyes on Tanis for a long moment before she gave a slow nod. “All right. Package deal.” She pushed back her coat and reached into her back pocket. Vala tensed, still half-expecting her to pull a weapon, but she instead produced a small tablet. “I already told you my client’s name is Dysmas Wyrrick. What I neglected to add was the fact he’s a bit of a grandstander. And by ‘a bit,’ I mean he makes the Goa’uld look restrained and humble by comparison. He’s having a masquerade party, ostensibly to celebrate the downfall of the System Lords. He actually just wants to show off all his cool new toys. If something got looted from Kali’s realm, you’re going to find it there. He gave me an invitation when we finished our transaction.”

  “And you’re giving it to us because…?”

  “I’m selling it to you,” Baleya corrected. “As for why I’m offering it to you despite the fact it’s not for sale… well, consider it an apology for what I put you through. The man who made these things called himself a Gamekeeper, but his people apparently had a weird definition of the word ‘game.’ Selling you the invitation is the least I can do.”

  Tanis shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was rough. “I don’t get it. You attack us, strap us into these… these…”

  “Virtual entertainment pods. At least, that’s what the technical name is.”

  “Whatever. You subject us to all that, and now you’re fine with helping us? What changed?”

  Baleya looked at Vala. “Someone I loved was taken as a host. What I saw in your recreation? It hit home. And not in a very nice way. Let’s just say you’re not the only one who wants to symbolically atone for something you did in the past. Maybe this will make up for some sins I’ve been running from.”

  Vala took the tablet. “Thank you, Baleya. We weren’t lying about the money we have on the ship. I’m sure we can work out fair compensation.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware of how much you have. While you were in the pods, I had my men search your ship. I took what I determined to be a fair price for the tablet.”

  Vala pursed her lips. “Ah. I suppose it saves us a tedious negotiation. Does this make us square? We threatened you, you emotionally scarred us… no need for anyone to retaliate down the line?”

  “For the time being. But I wouldn’t expect any favors the next time we run into each other.” She looked at Tanis. “Hopefully there will be a next time, though. No need for a bad first impression to affect a potentially lucrative relationship.”

  “Right. Square one. Could be worse, I suppose.”

  Baleya nodded. “The rings are out the door, to the right, and then the third left. I trust you can find your own way without taking any detours. Your ship is waiting for you jus
t where you left it. Maybe riding a little lighter, but none the worse for wear.” She crossed her arms. “Despite everything, I am glad I met you. It’s rare to meet women in this line of work, let alone women who match my deviousness.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Until next time, Mal Doran. Tanis.”

  Vala couldn’t help but notice she’d said Tanis’ name a little softer than hers. She helped Tanis out into the hall, but after a few steps she’d gotten back enough strength to push away from Vala’s side. Vala reached up and rubbed her temples with two fingers, grimacing at the sticky residue the virtual device had left behind. She looked at Tanis and saw her doing the same thing.

  “So what did you see?”

  Tanis averted her gaze.

  “Right. So… never speaking of it again?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me. Come on. Let’s go see how much of our loot we have left.”

  Vala looped an arm around Tanis’ waist and pulled her close. Tanis tensed but didn’t pull away. Vala decided that forgetting would be achieved easier with a bright attitude, so she put on a smile and lightened her voice. “Yes, let’s! Hopefully she left us enough to buy some new outfits. Apparently we have a party to attend.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jack O’Neill glanced out into the gate room as he came down the stairs. The Stargate was active, its shimmering surface reflecting off the control room’s windows. He kept waiting to become desensitized to the sight, waited for the day when he could walk past without giving it his attention, but it didn’t seem likely to happen very soon. Despite that, with the responsibilities of his new position, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge at the sight of an active and seemingly unused event horizon. Bureaucracy had turned him into the grumpy old man who complained about running the air-conditioner when the door was standing wide open.

  He pushed aside thoughts of their budget and approached his favorite technician. “Am I about to be relieved or disgruntled, Walter?”

 

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