The Cost of Honor

by Stargate

  And then they came. Two men, robed in black like the others, but without the filigree of scarlet on their skin. They came to stand before her, talking too quietly to hear. She sensed something from them, however. Unease, disquiet - a sense of shaken faith. And then she'd started to move.

  The clamps around her limbs snaked from the sheh Yet, pushing her past the dying faces and bodies of the others until she hung suspended above the floor. Reality sharpened, and she forced herself to focus. The pain in her arms and legs, her parched throat and acid-burned face all anchored her to the present, dulling the eternal whispering. "What's happening?" she managed to scratch out.

  There was no answer as she was slowly lowered to the ground. Her legs sagged as the clamps released her, and she hit the floor in a crumpled heap. Now what?

  A cup was pressed to her lips, and she drank greedily of a cool, bitter liquid that burned in her chest and made her cough. Arms hooked beneath each of her own, and she was pulled upright and dragged into motion. She tried to walk, but her muscles were cramping with lack of use and refused to respond. Her whole body felt clumsy and uncoordinated, as if it weren't quite her own. Maybe it's not? Even her mind, always so crystal clear, was foggy and indistinct. It was hard to concentrate, so easy to get lost in the endless chatter that deafened her thoughts, but she refused to let it wash her away. Fight it, the Colonel had ordered. Don't give them an inch.

  Her body might be beyond use for the moment, but her eyes at least were working. If she could do nothing else, she could try to understand where she was being taken - and how the hell to get out. At first it was too dark to see much, and she recognized the damp, ill-lit corridor through which she and the Colonel had been marched so long ago. At the end loomed massive iron doors, and she remembered them too, and the stench that had almost knocked her over. Funny that she barely noticed it now, although she suspected it clung to every strand of her hair and every fiber of her clothing.

  Expecting to go through those doors again, Sam was surprised when her escort slowed and stopped some twenty feet away. One of them muttered something she didn't catch, and then to her surprise a section of the wall slid to one side, revealing the inside of a bright, clean elevator.

  Still sagging between the two men, Sam was hauled inside and her stomach flipped as they began a swift ascent. Up was good, she figured. Up meant ships and fresh air and escape - if she could only force her sluggish body to respond. She closed her eyes and focused on moving her legs. It was an arduous process, almost like operating them through a crude remote control, but at last her feet were under her body and she could push herself up to stand.

  It earned her a shocked stare from her companions, and she met it with fierce triumph. "Where are we going?" Even her voice sounded stronger, despite being filtered through a sandpaper throat.

  "To the Kaw'ree," the man replied, eyes so wide they almost took over his narrow features. "They wish to examine you in detail."

  "Examine-"

  "Say no more," the other man trilled nervously, jittery as a bird. "It is not permitted."

  Sam cast him a penetrating look. "You're afraid of them, aren't you?"

  He shook his head. But his thoughts were clear to her, almost as if she could feel them herself. "You're afraid of them and- And of me." Outcast! Dissenter. Wormwood. Destroyer. The impression was so powerful she gasped, stumbling back. "You think I'm here to destroy you?"

  The man just stared straight ahead. But he couldn't hide his thoughts from her, they blazed like an angry torch, alight with a single word. Law'ayg. Stranger. "Look," she said, mind reeling from sudden insight. "We're not here to destroy you, or your people. You don't have to be afraid, you can-"

  A sharp slap across her face silenced her. "Say no more, Outcast," the other man hissed at her. He was furious, she could feel it rolling off him in waves like heat. "Your lies do not deceive us."

  "I'm not lying, I'm-"

  Another slap. "Silence. The sheh yet does not lie; you have been judged."

  Judged? If she'd been in better shape, she might have put up more of a fight. But her head was spinning, her body still frustratingly uncooperative, and at that moment the elevator slowed rapidly, the slight g-forces buckling her knees as the doors slid noiselessly open.

  She was yanked into motion before she had time to get her feet under herself again, and stumbled to stay upright. Beyond the elevator was the kind of opulence Sam imagined had graced the city in its heyday. The gilt of Goa'uld architecture abounded, augmented by the weight of solemn Kinahhi tastes. The lighting was low, heavy drapes masking some of the familiar Goa'uld designs, and once they passed a window that glowed with the burnt orange of a fading sunset. Couldn't be the same day we arrived, could it?

  They approached the end of the corridor and two carved wooden doors. One of her escorts - the man who had struck her - released her arm and moved to knock respectfully. After a moment the doors slid open and Sam was tugged forward. She shook off the hand that clutched at her arm. "I can walk."

  Chin high, she forced her rubber legs into what she hoped was a confident stride, and led the two frightened men into the massive chamber beyond. Its domed glass ceiling glinted in muted shades, struck by the dying rays of the sun, refracting subdued rainbows throughout the room. And beneath it, on a dais, sat nine men and women, slender even by the standards of the Kinahhi, their alabaster skin traced with red fire and their eyes dark and knowing. The Kaw'ree. Among them were the two who had visited her in the sheh fet, Koash and Elessa.

  Koash rose from his chair and stepped forward. "Welcome, Major Samantha Carter."

  She didn't reply, her attention caught by his chair. It was throne-like, and clearly very old. Wires and cables ran from it up towards the ceiling, their smooth lines and curlicues reminiscent of the sheh fet. Whatever technology this was, it wasn't Goa'uld. An invention of the Kinahhi themselves, perhaps?

  "You intrigue us," Koash continued, stepping carefully down from the platform. "We would examine your mind more closely."

  "Having trouble getting into the corners?" Sam said. "Your machine not working right?"

  Koash was unperturbed. "Your mind is different to ours, cruder perhaps."

  She gave him a flat look. Insults? He must really be struggling. "Stronger," she countered. "Less diffident. More resistant." She could see the truth of it reflected in his eyes and wondered if the sheh fet was a two-way street. "I know what you're thinking," she said aloud, and watched for a reaction.

  A flutter rippled through the eight Kaw'ree still seated, and Koash straightened his narrow shoulders. Behind her she heard a stifled gasp from her nervous escort. "If we are to merge with the Tauri, we must know your minds better," Koash told her. "Understand how they work, their structure. In deconstructing your mind, Major Carter, in finding all your secrets, we will learn much."

  Merge with the Tauri? What the hell did that mean? A sudden fear turned her cold at the thought of Kinsey's blind, greedy trust in these people. She pushed the thought away; there was nothing she could do about that, not yet. Focus on the now. "If you could pull my mind apart," she told Koash coldly, "you'd have done it already."

  A slight smile touched the man's colorless face and he extended a hand to her face. "Your companion disrupted our connection," he said, brushing icy fingers across her temple. "But we will reestablish it, and dig deep."

  "But he got out, didn't he?" she shot back. "Colonel O'Neill escaped." She jerked her head toward the men behind her, "You can't control us like you can them."

  "Not yet," he agreed. "But the rewards of conquest will be..." He shivered in anticipation, licking lightly at his thin lips. "The rewards of penetrating your mind will be immense."

  Sam shrank back, but refused to back down. "I'll fight you all the way."

  "I'm counting on it," Koash replied, stepping closer, his cool breath misting across her face. "But if you resist too strongly..." He smiled, staring right into her for an instant before turning away sharply. "Bring hi
m."

  Sudden panic flared up. Him? Who? Not the Colonel! Damn it, no... A small door at the side of the chamber opened, and two Kinahhi soldiers stepped through. Between them scurried a bedraggled, terrified looking man in a crumpled suit. Sam could hardly believe her eyes.

  "Crawford?"

  Koash's face was unreadable. "If you resist us, Major Carter, he will suffer the consequences of your defiance."

  The Ambassador fixed her with rheumy, fearful eyes. He looked as though he'd been crying. Like she gave a damn. Arms folded, she turned back to Koash in triumph. "Wow, you really don't have a clue do you?" He was taken aback and her spirits rose. He couldn't have gotten it more wrong. "You can send that bastard to hell, for all I care. I'm not telling you a damn thing."

  In the distance she heard Crawford whimper. It sounded good.

  Jack wasn't sure if it was the blood loss, the pain or the force of the impact that left him woozy and faint as his escape pod finally stopped rolling and came to a bone jarring halt. At least he was on dry land - got to look on the positive side of things. With a grunt of effort he found the mechanism to open the damn coffin, cast a quick prayer toward no one in particular and activated it.

  After an eternal moment of nothingness there was the sharp hiss of a pressure seal breaking and the door cracked open. Yes! Air - hot and dry - seeped inside, accompanied by the faint light of dusk. With his good leg, he pushed the door up and open, then struggled to sit up.

  In the twilight, he could see little. Just a blur of orange andNo, it wasn't the encroaching darkness. Rocks, sand and some distant piles of rubble. "Oh, for crying out..." They'd landed in a goddamn desert!

  He flopped back down, was rewarded by a jarring pain in his arm, and cursed. Loudly.

  "Jack?" The distant voice, half-hope and half-curiosity, belonged to Daniel. At least he was alive, but how long he'd stay that way in this godforsaken dust-bowl was a completely different question.

  Struggling to sit up again, he watched Daniel picking his way through the rocks, studying the ground as if something utterly fascinating lurked beneath the dirt. Frankly, unless it was a cold beer and a burger, Jack couldn't give a rat's ass what Daniel was looking at. "Teal'c?" he asked, as Daniel drew closer.

  "Over there," came the distracted reply, accompanied by a vague waving of his arm. "He's looking for signs of, ah..." Daniel was gone, crouching down and brushing away at the sand. "Look at this," he said. "The scale is just astonishing. How does something like this just disappear? I mean, we're talking about something advanced enough to-"

  "Daniel!"

  He peered over the rims of his dusty glasses. "Jack?"

  "What are you doing?"

  Daniel considered the point for a moment, then shrugged as if it were obvious. "Looking at the ruins."

  "Ruins?" He gave an exaggerated look in all directions. "It's a desert, Daniel. As in deserted. As in we are totally screwed!"

  Nodding absently, Daniel turned back to scraping at the ground. "You're right, we're probably screwed. But it's not a desert." He frowned. "Well, it wasn't always a desert." Even through his exhaustion and pain he managed to look awestruck. "It's a city, Jack. A huge, ancient city."

  "Does it have water? Food? Medical care?" Damn it. "A way back to the Stargate? Another ship?"

  With a grimace, Daniel stood up and offered Jack his hand. "Abydos looked like an empty desert when we first arrived."

  Jack let himself be pulled to his feet - foot, rather, since his blown knee refused to take an ounce of weight - and squinted into the dusky evening. "You think people could live out here?"

  "Why not?" Daniel said. "They obviously lived here once. Old habits die hard."

  "But it's a desert."

  "So was Abydos."

  Jack cast him a sideways glance, trying to decide if Daniel believed what he was saying or was just looking for hope. He couldn't tell, but decided it didn't matter. They were still alive, and back on Tsapan he hadn't thought they'd get this far. He offered Daniel a smile, "Good shooting, Sundance."

  Daniel accepted the compliment with a lopsided shrug, and then nodded off into the distance. "Here comes Teal'c. Maybe he's seen something."

  "Burger King, with any luck."

  Teal'c limped toward them, each heavy footfall raising clouds of orange sand into the amber night. From his flat expression Jack knew there was nothing in sight but sand, sand and more sand.

  "We must wait for dawn," Teal'c said as he drew closer.

  "Not even a Starbucks, huh?"

  "It is difficult to see in this light."

  "Right," Jack agreed, although the chances of civilization springing up from the dust in the morning were slim. He shivered and realized it was getting cold. "Let's see if there's anything in the escape pods to bum," he decided, wishing there was something to drink. Anything. "And we should all get some shut-eye."

  It didn't take long to rip out everything combustible from the escape pods, and soon all three were huddled around a meager, smoking fire. With the aid of Teal'c's knife, Jack tore a strip from the bottom of his shirt and let Teal'c bind it tightly around the laser wound in his arm. Just a scratch, but it would fester without a sterile dressing and antibiotics. Septicemia made such a nice counterpoint to dehydration and starvation.

  He did the same for Teal'c in return, staunching the blood seeping from his leg wound. It was all they could do, and he knew damn well it wasn't half enough. Without a miracle, it would end here. His eyes moved to land on the Beretta Daniel had holstered at his side. It would be easy enough, almost painless, if it came down to that. His eyes lifted and he found himself skewered by Daniel's sharp gaze. He didn't flinch, just gave a slight shrug, and Daniel nodded. They understood each other.

  "Let's get some rest," Jack said quietly, his voice rasping with thirst. "I'll take first watch. Then Teal'c, then Daniel."

  Without another word his friends settled themselves on their backs and stared up at the alien stars. Jack just gazed into the ugly blue flames of their fire, turning his last moments in the sheh fet over and over in his mind.

  I'll be back. I swear to God, I'll be back.

  Could he have done more to free her? Should he have stayed on Tsapan? Had he made the wrong call, abandoning her only to see the rest of his team die slow, pointless deaths in the middle of nowhere? He had no answers. But one thing was certain - he'd be damned if his promise to her proved to be a lie. There had to be some way out of this. All he had to do was find it.

  The Commander's office was on the second floor of the tatty building at the heart of the compound. The air was cooling at last, but the heat of the day had left Kenna irritable and low. Standing at the open window, he stared out into the cloudless night of this strange, alien place to which he'd been banished. I'm so sorry, Esaum. The compound was bathed in a sickly yellow light. It did little to penetrate the rich darkness of the desert, and failed utterly to compete with the bright white lights that roved across the Cordon and glinted on the jagged wire curling along its length.

  Beyond that lay chaos. The badlands, crisscrossed by evergrowing numbers of lawless vagrants, living in poverty they were too idle to remedy. Or so the official line went. Clasping his hands behind his back, Kenna stared as if he could penetrate the night. He'd only been beyond the Cordon a handful of times, but the hollow features and hopeless eyes of those who clung to the border, desperate for the handouts from Kinahhi, had haunted his dreams. Until recently.

  Now, another face kept him awake at night. Esaum, his little boy. Kenna went cold, thinking of him in the hands of Damaris or the Kaw'ree, and was ashamed of himself for letting his son down so badly. He should have known better than to question, than to listen to the dangerous words of O'Neill. What right did he have to risk his son for the sake of his own petty compunctions? The sheh fet was evil, but he'd rather see the Tauri woman in its clutches than his son. It was a cruel truth, but honest. If there only were some way to regain the trust of the Security Council, to allow him to br
ing Esaum home...

  A door squeaked open in the security hut and one of his men ran across the courtyard, a paper flapping in his hand. It did not look like good news. Swallowing a harsh sense of dread he turned and braced himself. After a minute he heard booted feet hurrying down the corridor, and then an abrupt rap on his door.

  "Enter."

  A young soldier hurried inside. "Sir," he reported breathlessly. "We have a report from Tracking Station 36."

  Thirty-six? That was off-shore, on one of the islands. "And?"

  "They report a ship, sir. The alien ship, crashing into the Mibsaw Sea."

  Kenna felt the stirrings of hope. "Any report of survivors?"

  The soldier shook his head. "No sir, but-" He frowned down at the paper he was holding, then handed it over to the Commander. "Three smaller vessels were also detected before the ship crashed, right at the edge of 36's range."

  "Some sort of emergency evacuation devices?" Was there no limit to O'Neill's resourcefulness? The man must possess a dozen lives.

  "Possibly, sir. They can't confirm it, but they think they must have crashed somewhere beyond the Cordon." He took a breath, slowing his speech as the urgency lessened. "Given their trajectory before thirty-six lost them, sir, they may have landed in Arxantia itself"

  "Is that so?" The heart of the Mahr'bal. A harsh, uncompromising land. If they survived the crash, they would not live long in such a place. But if he could find them, return with them to the Security Council in triumph... Hope, a distant dream mere minutes ago, beat louder in his chest. "Send in Chief Officer Lahat to see me immediately," he ordered, "and rouse the watch. I shall lead the hunt myself"

  The young man's eyes shot wide open. "Sir? You're going to-"

  "Find them," he confirmed, searching through his predecessor's desk for one of the rudimentary maps of Arxantia. He looked up at the still staring soldier. "Go, man. We move out within the hour."