by Jamie Duncan
“Thank Esa,” Brenneka said, in a clipped tone. “He’s the one who risked his life for you. My home was crawling with Jaffa when Esa stole these things from the hiding place there.” It was the way she spat the word -you - as if Teal’c was the lowest form of life in the room. Sam frowned, but Teal’c’s expression was calm, so she let it go. They had saved Teal’c’s life, and she wasn’t in a position to complain.
Esa wasn’t among the strangers still cluttering the small space in the room, so Sam shook her head at Teal’c. He nodded his understanding. Slowly, he looked around the room, watching each person for a short time and taking the measure of each man in turn. She’d done it herself, earlier.
“Teal’c, these people are Aris’ kinsfolk,” she said. “You’ve met Aadi… and this is Brenneka.” She didn’t bother with trying to remember the names of the others; even if they had been identified, she had relegated the information to the back of her brain as not important now. Teal’c inclined his head toward Brenneka, who gave a curt nod before turning her back on him.
Sam eased herself down to the ground beside Teal’c and scooted back for the support of the wall. Every bone in her body was aching, and hunger and exhaustion were catching up with her. One thing after another since they’d been captured… her skin felt stretched too tightly over her bones, as if it might crack and she would spill out in the margins. She turned her face toward Teal’c, to speak as privately as possible—not like that much privacy was possible here. Aadi would hear all they said to each other in these cramped quarters.
“How are you really feeling?” she asked, under her breath.
“It appears to be a superficial wound. I will be able to travel within a few hours.”
“Even without a symbiote?” she said, and then cringed. Of course she didn’t need to remind him. Maybe she was reminding herself. Teal’c had been able to avail himself of a symbiote’s healing powers for so long that she’d never considered what might happen if that ability was stripped away. She was sure Teal’c had, though they had never talked about it.
“Even without a symbiote,” Teal’c confirmed. Sam sighed, and her body relaxed another fraction of a degree. Part of her had expected him to say it would take longer, or that he was in serious pain. That same part feared they were going to be stuck here, or lose Daniel, or the Colonel. It was the part of her that was clueless about how to get out of this mess.
“I don’t have a concrete plan,” she told him up front, confessing her failure as a tactician. “So much has happened.” Brenneka was kneeling by the hearth, but her head was angled toward Sam. No doubt she was absorbing everything. “The bottom line is, Aris is going to kill Sebek, and Daniel in the process. He wants whatever is in that vault. These people think it’s a weapon the Ancients left for them.” She watched this register with Teal’c, watched his eyebrow raise and his expression harden. He pushed himself upright with a grunt, leaning heavily on one arm.
“We must attempt a rescue before Aris Boch makes his move.”
“Agreed,” Sam said. “But with what?” She tapped the zat, secure at her side. “Against dozens, maybe hundreds of Jaffa? We’re in no shape to take on even a small portion of his army.”
“What do you suggest?”
She looked into Teal’c’s eyes, warmed by the confidence and trust there. No way was she going to open her mouth and say J don’t know and blow all that out of the water. So instead she said, “We need more weapons, and people to handle them.” If they’d been alone, she might have told Teal’c she suspected Brenneka and her Order had more up their collective sleeves than cold huts and gruel, but she had no proof.
Teal’c glanced back over at Brenneka, at the stiff lines of her back. “Are these people able and willing to fight?” he asked Sam.
At this, Brenneka turned on her knee to face them. “For you? No. Nor will we give you weapons. If your plan is to use my people for gun fodder, you’ll sleep in the street until you are discovered, Jaffa—no matter what you have done for Aadi.”
“Brenneka, no one is suggesting that your kinsmen should die for what we need to do,” Sam began, but Teal’c threw off the blanket covering his legs and forced himself to sit up, one hand clutching at the crumbling brick to balance himself.
“I am suggesting it,” he said. Sam touched him on the arm, trying to warn him away from the subject—now wasn’t the time—but he ignored her. “Your people live in misery, yet there are but a few hundred Jaffa to control you. Why didn’t you rise up?”
“Is it so easy for you to judge, Jaffa? Why didn’t you not rise up, in all the thousands of years your people have been killing my kind?” Brenneka reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a tiny blue packet. She turned it over between her fingers, then gestured to Aadi; he handed her a cup of water, and she emptied the roshna into the cup. The liquid fluoresced to a vivid green-blue for a few seconds before the color faded, leaving only a grainy scum on the top of the water. Sam knew what it looked like. She’d helped the chemists work with it for a few days in the lab, trying to wrench all the secrets from it in the hopes that it was responsible for some immunity to Goa’uld possession, but she’d never been able to find anything of use. Like most other things, they’d handed off the remaining sample to Area 51, where it waited its turn in the scientific queue.
Brenneka drank deeply, emptying the cup in one long swallow. A moment later, she flung the cup into the corner, inches away from Teal’c’s head. “You know nothing of my people or our struggles here.”
“Perhaps not,” Teal’c said. He met Aadi’s eyes, where there was curiosity and fear in equal proportion. “But I know what it is to depend on an outside source for strength and life. And I know what it costs to be free.”
“And you would have us pay this price. For you.”
“For your freedom,” Teal’c said fervently.
Brenneka laughed, a scratchy sound, without humor. “It’s as I thought, from the beginning,” she said, with a hard look at Sam. “You fight to save yourselves. You persuade for your own cause. Not for ours.” She jerked her head at Aadi, motioning him out of the room, and Aadi scrambled to obey, with a last curious look at Teal’c. “We will not help you.”
“You already have,” Sam said wearily. “It’s a little late to back away from that on principle, don’t you think? We’re here, you’re hiding us. We have nowhere to go.”
Near the doorway of the hut, one of the men standing there spoke quietly. In the dim light, his face was cut with shadows. “Brenneka. Perhaps we should hear the words the strangers are saying, rather than judging them half-said.”
“Perhaps, Hamel, you’re anxious to throw your life away.” Brenneka turned her head to glare at him. “You’ve been waiting for an excuse, haven’t you? This is not what we agreed upon.”
“No, but then again, opportunities like this don’t present themselves often.” Hamel approached and squatted down next to the hearth; his grey hair glinted silver in the flickering light. “We have two warriors, ready to help us, and Aris is in a position to rid us of Sebek. What more can we ask? How much longer can we wait?”
“Until we are ready,” Brenneka said. Her fingers flexed and pulled at the fabric of her trousers.
“That day will never come,” Hamel said. He cupped Brenneka’s chin with one hand and raised it gently. “We will spend our lives preparing to fight and die without having fought. I don’t want to die a slave.”
Teal’c said, “Hamel is correct. When the moment comes, you cannot step aside and wait to fight another day.”
Sam had a flash of memory: Teal’c’s anguished expression, and the profound sadness on his face, at the moment when he’d switched sides to join them.
“Self-serving words,” Brenneka muttered, but she no longer sounded so convinced.
“We are not afraid to die for those things in which we believe, if others may live free,” Teal’c said. “We do not serve only ourselves.”
“But we want to save our
friends,” Sam said. “And we’re going to try to make that happen, with or without your help.”
Hamel pointed to Teal’c’s bandaged side. “You won’t get far without us. Unless you have a clever plan you haven’t told us about.” He tilted his head to the side. “Do you?”
Sam smiled in spite of herself. “I’m a little short on clever plans today.”
“Because you don’t know this place, or the mines, as we do.” Hamel smiled back at her, but his smile was cold. “I can help you.”
“Hamel,” Brenneka began, but he shook his head.
“The time for discussion has finished,” he said. “You may do as you wish, but I will do what I can to help them.”
“You go alone,” Brenneka said. “The others will not follow.”
“Be that as it may,” Hamel said. Like someone had snapped a wire between them, he moved away from Brenneka and settled next to Sam with his back against the wall.
“Thank you,” Sam said, quietly.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he said, watching Brenneka, whose eyes glittered as she turned her back on him. “It is likely we will all die. Certainly you cannot save your friend, the one Sebek took.”
Sam and Teal’c exchanged a glance full of meaning. They were going to have to find a moment alone to talk about their options. Even if they got into the mine—even if they found the Colonel and Daniel—Sebek would never go willingly. The chances of getting Daniel back had already dwindled to near zero.
“You have weapons,” Hamel said, making it less a question than an invitation to tell him more.
“Just a zat,” Sam said. “Aris took our Earth weapons, and the ones we picked up in the bunker seem to be missing.” Sam raised her chin pointedly at Brenneka, and Hamel nodded, chewing his beard thoughtfully.
“We may be able to do something about that.”
“We?” Sam asked, not entirely sure if he was including Brenneka’s people in that broad category. She didn’t dare hope there would be enough of them to overpower even a small squad of Jaffa. Whatever plan they made would have to be less about brute strength and more about cunning, and she was feeling pretty short in the idea department.
Hamel’s gaze shifted back to Brenneka, who was now busying herself around the room, studiously avoiding the area where the three of them sat. “She will consider it, and when she puts aside her anger, she’ll see the wisdom of striking now.”
“It is not easy to stand up, when one has lost the will to rise,” Teal’c said. “Nor is it easy to know if one’s efforts will succeed.”
“No,” Hamel said. “And we’ll only have one chance to get it right. Brenneka doesn’t want to jump until the pond is full of water.”
Sam watched Brenneka and reconsidered everything the woman had told her about the Ancients, hoping to remember something she could use, something to sway Brenneka to their point of view. Too bad Daniel wasn’t here to make helpful suggestions. He was a master of re-contextualizing myths into persuasive arguments. But if Daniel could do it, so could she. It was a matter of finding the right buttons to push.
Her eyes drifted closed, and before sleep claimed her, she saw the image of Daniel’s smile in the darkness, and the Colonel’s face, etched with worry.
At first he thought it was a dream, but no dream was ever that vivid, so gradually Jack decided it had to be real. He could smell dinner cooking in the kitchen—meatloaf, maybe. Something with the tangy odor of burned ketchup, and then there was the scent of salted water steaming the air. Probably noodles, for macaroni and cheese. He smiled and shifted on the couch. Saturday afternoon naps were the best, and then there was always his son, Charlie, who would be waiting for him in the yard so they could play catch. Best part of the weekend, bar none. He wished he had more time, for his family, for Sara, for everything that mattered. A stretch and a yawn, and he’d open his eyes and Charlie would be there.
Jack.
He frowned. That voice was familiar, but it didn’t belong here. Charlie was calling to him from his room, but his voice was fading, and suddenly the memory went rushing past like ice water over Jack’s skin, gentle afternoon sunlight and comfortable sounds twisting fluidly into screams and blood and terror. Not this. He shoved it away as hard as he could, and the world fell away underneath him.
Jack!
So insistent… words, modulating from one range to another, familiar and yet not quite the same. He knew the sound of that voice—Carter, he thought at first, and then Teal’c, but he knew immediately that wasn’t right, either. Daniel.
His eyes snapped open, and he thrashed for a moment, unsure of where he was. Someone was leaning over him, staring at him through silver eyes, glittering circles like funhouse mirrors reflecting his entire life back into his mind. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his field of vision, but now he could see the shape of a face behind those eyes. Light caught and scattered off its skin, which shimmered with tiny rainbows. Iridescent, like… scales, he thought, and swung up with one closed fist. The vision shattered, fragments flying apart like a prism, and he gasped out loud.
“Bad dreams?”
Jack sat up and twisted in the direction of Aris’ voice. They were only a few feet apart; a safe distance for Aris, since he was out of arm’s reach. The scant illumination that had helped them find their way earlier seemed to have disappeared completely, for the time being. Jack held his hand up to block the light Aris was aiming at his face. “Put that thing down,” he ordered. Aris leaned the flash against his knee, its glow narrowed to a thin beam. Jack blinked away spots. “You had fun shooting me, didn’t you?”
“I always do.” So smug. Jack wanted to rip that satisfied smile right off his face. A faint tremor went through his body, unused adrenaline built up with nowhere to go and nothing to fight. He glanced around him, half expecting to see a physical manifestation of his dream, but there was nothing there. No point in asking Aris if he’d seen anything; he was sure now that he’d imagined it. Jack shook off the sensation of those eyes, shining straight into him, and the sound of his son’s voice. Not now.
After a moment, it dawned on Jack: no Sebek. It had taken him far too long to realize that the snake wasn’t standing there baiting him, and it was still taking too long to get his bearings. Not like him, to forget to threat-assess. Get a grip. He glanced around and saw Daniel face-up but unconscious, sprawled on the ground at the edge of the area the light could reach. “What happened to him?”
“I shot him, too.”
“Isn’t that going to piss him off a little?”
Aris shrugged, his armor creaking. “I’ll say it was collateral damage from when I tried to save his life.” He waggled his blaster in Jack’s direction. “Overflow, proximity.” He grinned a little at his own cleverness and shrugged again. “I needed some peace and quiet. You two are like bickering children.”
“Nice way to talk about your god,” Jack said.
Aris shot him an ominous look. “You know better than to call that my god,” he scoffed, as he indicated Daniel with the blaster. He sighted along the muzzle, his finger twitching on the trigger. “But if you don’t stop interfering, I’ll have to kill you, and that would be a shame.”
“I’m not the enemy.”
“I don’t have enemies. I have associates, and I have people who get in my way.” Aris fished for his canteen, then for a small packet of roshna, which he dumped into the water. “Don’t be the latter.”
Jack watched him take a long swallow of the blue mixture, and had a flash of craving, so strong that his stomach cramped and his skin went clammy. “You’d do anything for that, wouldn’t you?”
Aris said nothing. Instead, he held out the canteen. “Thirsty? Shame I forgot to ask earlier.”
Jack grimaced. “No thanks.”
“Smart move.” Aris took a bite of something he held in his hand.
Jack’s stomach rumbled, right on cue. “Don’t suppose you have any more of whatever that is?”
“Sure I do.” Another b
ite, and Aris made no move to hand him any. Jack raised his eyebrows. After a moment, Aris sighed impatiently. “Oh, all right.” He dug into one of those strange hidden pockets in his armor and pulled out the scant remains of a crushed power bar, half-unwrapped.
Jack caught it in mid-air and tore it out of the plastic. The smell alone made him vaguely nauseated. It had probably come out of Daniel’s pack, since Daniel always carried extra food for bribing natives. “Nice of you to bring along some stolen supplies.”
“Finders keepers.”
“Your motto, clearly.” Jack took two large bites, watching Daniel as he chewed. “Why is he still out?”
“I told you already, Sebek is weak. He hasn’t been able to sustain a host’s strength for more than a day or two, and he hasn’t been in the sarcophagus since at least a full day before he took Dr. Jackson as host.” Aris picked up the light and shone it on Daniel’s motionless body. “Maybe he’s having a tough time blending with him.”
“Who wouldn’t,” Jack muttered. He finished off the power bar, licked the wrapper clean and tossed it aside, then felt around on the floor for his flashlight until his fingers bumped up against it in the dust. Turning away from Aris and Daniel, he clicked on the light and aimed it down the passageway in the opposite direction.
“I’ve already had a little look around,” Aris said. “You know how it is.” Jack did understand; he’d been thinking of doing the same thing. No reason not to take advantage of the fact that Daniel was out cold. “As far as I can tell, this place goes on forever, all sharp corners and tight turns. Still don’t see any way out. At least none that’s obvious.”
“I’m sure you won’t mind if I take a look myself,” Jack said and pushed up from the ground without waiting for a response. Despite the fact that he carried his light source in his hand, he had the sensation of rising into space without stars, and for a split second he was back in the X-301, in the co-pilot’s seat behind Teal’c, drifting out toward his death. “Damn,” he murmured, and closed his eyes. It was like vertigo, but not as strong, and he couldn’t control the images. Weird. He took a few cautious steps back in the direction they’d come from… or at least, he thought he did. It was too easy to get turned around, and he had nothing that looked remotely like a landmark. He’d have to start doing something about that before they moved much further in.
