Stargate SG-1 30 - Insurrection

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Stargate SG-1 30 - Insurrection Page 5

by Sally Malcolm


  The man licked his lips, glanced at the hand-mouth Sting knew was gaping—he was still hungry—and nodded. “I won’t. I won’t betray you.”

  For a moment longer Sting held him there, felt his life pulsing under his skin, then he let him go. “I will know if you have,” he warned. “Now leave.”

  With a nod, the man straightened his clothes and headed for the door, but at the last moment Earthborn spoke. “What is your name?” she said.

  He stopped, turned back with evident surprise. “My name?”

  “You have a name?” Earthborn asked. “A given name?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I would know it.”

  He paused for a moment, as if considering her request, before he said, “James. My name is James O’Kane.”

  Earthborn tilted her head. “Very well, James O’Kane. Go, with my thanks, and bring O’Neill to us.”

  Sting said nothing. But for a queen to ask a human its name? Truly, their kind was on its knees.

  * * *

  The Shacks were much as Jack remembered them, crammed with human misery and desperation. But everything was different now, knowing where they were—knowing that this place had once been his home.

  As he stepped out of the makeshift hut that hid the entrance to the ruins of Stargate Command, the sun glowed bright through the ashy cloud blanketing Earth. He pulled out his sunglasses to fend off the glare. Carter did the same. But he couldn’t help feeling they were hiding from more than the sun; they were hiding from the reality of what surrounded them.

  Behind them the mountain—Cheyenne Mountain—rose up black against the bright sky and for a moment he just looked at it and tried to figure out why he hadn’t recognized it before. Was something different?

  Carter must have guessed what he was thinking, like she so often did, because she said, “The peak’s changed. It was probably damaged when Apophis used it as a landing platform.”

  He gave a grunt of assent and pushed the thought of a Ha’tak crushing the landscape of his home out of his mind. There were enough crappy images floating around in his head—things he’d actually witnessed—without adding imagined horrors to his photo album.

  “I guess this was Colorado Springs once,” he said by way of reply, turning to look out over the sprawling camp. “You think there’d be more left.”

  Carter cocked her head. “Would you?”

  She was right, of course. He’d seen his fair share of war zones on Earth. It was astonishing how fast war destroyed what it had taken hundreds, even thousands, of years to build—that thin veneer of civilization they all pretended was infinite. “Come on,” he said, scanning the ridge above the camp until his eyes found what he was looking for. “We should head for Sting’s ship—he’ll be waiting for us.”

  “Sir?” Carter nodded to her right and when Jack glanced over he saw a familiar face watching them from beneath the shadow of one of the surrounding shacks.

  “Hunter,” he said, and found a smile.

  “Didn’t ’spect to see you back here,” Hunter said, pushing himself to his feet. “Thought you was headed home.”

  “Long story.” That was a can of worms Jack really didn’t want to open. “We decided to hang around a little longer,” he said. “See if we can’t help.”

  Hunter tipped his head, his hair falling to one side over Hecate’s mark. “Then you’re serving the goddess now?” He sounded doubtful. “You don’t bear her mark.”

  “We don’t serve anyone,” Jack said, keeping it light. “But Dix sent us here—we’re allies of his.”

  “And where you headed?” Hunter said. “I can take you. Shacks ain’t safe if you don’t know the right path.”

  There was something wary in the man’s face, a look of distrust that sent warning sparks along the length of Jack’s spine. Hunter may be a friend, but given Aedan Trask’s dislike of working with Sting, Jack was pretty certain that Hunter wouldn’t like their plan. He’d risked his life helping them bust out of Sting’s hive, after all. It would be difficult to explain why they were walking back in.

  At his side, Carter shifted. Her unease was as palpable as his.

  “We could use a guide to take us back to your place,” Jack decided. “We can find the way from there.”

  Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “The way where?”

  “Out,” Jack said, glad for the sunglasses hiding his eyes; they made it easier to keep his expression neutral. “Can’t say more than that.”

  After a hesitant beat, Hunter shrugged. “Then I ain’t gonna ask,” he said. “I trust Dix, an’ if you’re on his business I guess I gotta trust you too.”

  It was close enough to the truth not to feel like a lie and Jack gave a nod. “Keep your eyes open,” he said as they started to walk. “And keep your family close. Things might get interesting in the next few days.”

  Hunter squinted at him over his shoulder and then turned back around to watch where he was going. “Always keep my eyes open,” he said. “That’s how come I lived so long.”

  It took the best part of half a day to work their way through the labyrinth of the Shacks to the scrap of wood and tarpaulin Hunter called home, and by then they were losing the light. Carter walked next to Jack in silence the whole way, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. He didn’t have to guess where; she and Fraiser had been good friends. There weren’t a lot of women in Stargate Command, and Carter and the doc had been close. No surprise she was taking this hard. Bad enough that they’d thought Janet—all their friends—were dead, but to know that Fraiser had been suffering all those lost years…? It twisted hard and tight in the pit of his stomach.

  And it had to end. One way or another, they had to end this. If they couldn’t unmake this crappy future then they’d sure as hell fix it.

  “You should stay with us tonight,” Hunter offered, his gaze darting from one to the other where they stood outside his home. “There’s been Snatchers everywhere these last weeks.”

  Jack didn’t doubt it after the damage they’d inflicted on Shadow’s operation, but that was exactly why they didn’t have time to waste. “We’ll take our chances,” he said, throwing a glance at Carter to confirm.

  “But thanks for the offer,” she added and gave Hunter a smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, though; it was just a facsimile. “And for your help.”

  Hunter grunted his acknowledgment. “I gonna see you again?”

  Jack exchanged a look with Carter, but her face was inscrutable. “Sure,” Jack said. “We’ll be back.” He hoped that wasn’t tempting fate.

  They didn’t linger long after that, heading out into the camp in silence. All around were the hushed sounds of fear, of humans huddling against the things that moved in the night. It was difficult not to picture how this camp must have begun—all those terrified people in Colorado Springs who hadn’t even known there was an enemy, let alone that it was at the gate, until Apophis had broken down the damn doors.

  He couldn’t imagine their shock; couldn’t help feeling that, somehow, it was his fault. If he’d only gotten them home on time… If Daniel hadn’t been injured and they’d gotten through the gate just a couple minutes sooner than everything would be different.

  “Colonel?” Carter’s voice was pitched low, a perfect patrol whisper.

  He glanced over at her, but couldn’t see much more than her profile and a glint of her eyes in the almost total darkness of the Shacks. No open fires here; everyone was hiding in the dark. “Carter?”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Uh-oh,” he said, but smiled to take the bite out of it.

  She gave a soft huff of amusement. “It’s, uh,” she lowered her voice further, “about the plan.”

  “It sucks. I know.”

  “It’s just—We’ll be lying to Sting,” she said. “I mean I know he’s one of them, but if Hecate’s plan works then all of Shadow’s Wraith will die.”

  “But he won’t,” the colonel countered. “Earthborn won’t.”
r />   “No, but think about it. With no Wraith to lead—no hive—would they even survive in their own galaxy?” She shook her head. “I doubt they could ever go home, sir. Even with Atlantis.”

  The just like us remained unspoken, but was no less weighty for being silent.

  Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair, resettled his cap afterward and tugged the bill low over his eyes. It’s not like he hadn’t thought of that already, he’d just chosen not to dwell. “It’s the only plan we got,” he said, which, all things considered, was both a crappy argument and an unanswerable one. “We get rid of the Wraith, then we get rid of the snake,” he said. “My enemy’s enemy and all that.”

  “Yes, but—” She cut herself off with a small noise of frustration, head shaking.

  He waited for a couple moments to see if she’d carry on, but she gave him only silence. “But what?” he was forced to prompt.

  Another shake of her head. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Carter…”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “C’mon,” he said. “But what?”

  She let out a sigh, almost hissed it through her teeth. “It’s just—What about Janet, sir?”

  And, yeah, that was the root of the problem, the intractable horror of this whole stinking situation. It was one thing to do a deal with the devil, but when the devil’s wearing your friend’s face…? Watching Carter, he said, “You think there’s anything of her left?”

  “Yes,” she said immediately. “Look at what happened with Skaara and Klorel.”

  And he’d known she was gonna say that. “But it’s been a hundred years.”

  “I know.” She was silent for a beat. “But we’ve got no evidence that time makes any difference. And, sir, if there’s a chance that Janet is in there…?” She turned her face to him, those wide eyes bright in the dark. “We can’t just let Hecate leave and take Janet with her. We can’t leave her—” Carter’s voice cracked and she broke off, turning her face away.

  “We’re not gonna leave her like this,” Jack said, just to make it clear. “Once the Wraith are out of the picture we’ll deal with it.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. But we will, I swear. We are not gonna leave Janet like this, okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes sir.”

  “And we’ve got time to figure out a plan, right?”

  Another nod. “Maybe the Tollan? Maybe, in this reality, they can help like they did with Skaara…?”

  “Maybe.” Although he was doubtful. If the Tollan had let the Protected Planets treaty fail, if they’d sat back and watched Earth fall to Apophis, and then to the Wraith, without lifting a hand to intervene…? Well, he didn’t rate their chances of getting the sanctimonious bastards to save Janet Fraiser from a literal fate worse than death. Not that he was going to say any of that out loud. Not that he needed to; he was pretty certain Carter was thinking the exact same thing. “We’ll find a way,” he said instead. “You got that, Carter?”

  “Yes sir,” she said, and it sounded like she was convincing herself as much as him. But he let it slide; at this point, faith and hope were pretty much all they had left.

  The camp was eerily quiet in these dead hours of the night and Jack couldn’t shake an uneasy prickle along the length of his spine. He felt eyes watching them from the shadows. People here didn’t sleep; they were always on watch.

  The sooner they were out of there, the happier he’d be, although the sight of Sting’s ship, crouching low on the skirt of a rocky ridge that he now recognized as The Horns, didn’t exactly fill him with joy. He wasn’t sure what made him feel worse—the fact that they were going to trust these Wraith or the fact that they were going to betray them.

  “Sir,” Carter said, drawing to a halt. “Did we take a wrong turn?”

  “Is there a right turn?” The whole place was a maze, constantly shifting.

  “We need to be east of that escarpment,” she said, gesturing to the mountains. “And I don’t think—”

  “Jack O’Neill.” The unfamiliar voice came from his left, pitched low.

  Zat raised, Jack peered into the darkness. He couldn’t see anyone. “Who’s asking?”

  “I’m here to help you,” the voice said—a man. “Don’t shoot.”

  Jack shifted his grip on the weapon, but didn’t lower it. “Come out where I can see you.”

  There was a scuffing of footsteps and a flare of gray light—not a flashlight, but something technological—before it was hidden. A man emerged from the darkness, tall with close-cropped sandy hair. His well-worn jacket looked military—something handed down from before the invasion, perhaps. Both his hands were in the air. “Sting sent me,” he said. “I’m to bring you to him.”

  “And you are?”

  “My name’s James O’Kane, Colonel.”

  “And you work for Sting?”

  A slight smile touched the man’s face. “Better that than feed him.”

  “You’re what they call a ‘feeder,’ aren’t you?” Carter said from where she stood at Jack’s side. “Humans who serve the Wraith.”

  James glanced at her and Jack didn’t miss the way his eyes widened. “Major Carter,” he said. “I didn’t expect—” He cleared his throat. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

  She exchanged a glance with Jack. “You know me?”

  “Of course. You’re SG-1. You’re—” He stopped, cocking his head toward the sky. “We have to go.”

  Jack peered up and a moment later he heard it too: a high-pitched whine. “Wraith?”

  “Shadow. Her darts are patrolling. We should leave the Shacks as soon as we can.”

  “You got no argument from me,” Jack said, holstering his weapon.

  Carter did the same, although she still looked wary. “How far is it?”

  “Not far,” James said. “Sting is waiting for us just beyond the perimeter.”

  “Sweet. Lead the way, Jamie.”

  With a nod he turned away, but then stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Stay in the shadows,” he said quietly. “And it’s James, by the way, not Jamie.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Jack said, shooing him forward. “Just get us the hell out of here, Jim.”

  Carter shook her head, moving past him to follow O’Kane, but Jack didn’t miss the smile she tried to hide. He counted it as a win.

  Chapter 4

  Earth — 2098

  By the time they’d reached the edge of the camp, dawn was graying the horizon. They’d stopped a couple times when Shadow’s darts had passed too low overhead, hunkering down under scraps of tarp amid the silent, dead-eyed residents of the Shacks.

  Once, Jack had heard the word ‘feeder’ hissed in the dark and O’Kane had stiffened at the implicit threat. But nothing had happened, no one had stirred.

  These people had given up. But maybe—if this crazy-assed plan worked—SG-1 would be able to give them hope and that would be enough to get them on their feet and fighting.

  Eventually they slipped past the watch towers in the indistinct light of pre-dawn, O’Kane leading them into the tree line where he stopped dead.

  Jack almost ran into the back of him. “What are we—?”

  And then Sting was there. Gray as the morning, he simply emerged from the shadows. Startled, Jack’s hand was on his weapon before he could stop himself.

  Sting glanced down at the zat, unimpressed. “You have come to assist my queen?”

  So much for small talk. “Nice to see you too, buddy. How’ve you been?”

  Sting blinked his alien eyes and said, “Shadow’s blades are in the skies above us. Every moment I am here I am in danger of discovery. I repeat my question: have you come to assist my queen pilot Shadow’s hive?”

  “Let’s just say we have a proposal.”

  Sting’s gaze travelled to Carter and back. “Then tell me—”

  “I’d rather talk to your boss.”

  Sting hissed out a breath through his teeth, glanced u
p at the sky, and then turned with a swirl of his long coat and stalked through the trees. With a shrug in Carter’s direction, Jack fell in behind him, Carter at his side, and O’Kane—presumably—keeping an eye on them from behind.

  It was a short, steep climb to the shattered remains of Sting’s ship. The air this high was cold and Jack ducked into the scant warmth of his jacket. He wondered if it ever got warm here in this sun-deprived world. Carter peered up at the hulk of the ship, something between pride and regret on her face as she took in the damage she’d caused. Not that the thing had been space-worthy anyway, but it was a total wreck now.

  Sting stopped beneath the shadow of its hull and glanced at James. “Tell Stormfire we have returned. Prepare him.”

  With a nod and a wordless look at Jack and Carter, O’Kane slipped inside the ship and was gone.

  “Pet monkey?” Jack said to Sting. “Thought you guys didn’t go in for the whole ‘worshiper’ thing?”

  “We do not give him the Gift of Life,” Sting said. “He is here to—” He paused, and for a moment it looked like he was confused by his own answer. “He assists Stormfire.” The expressions on his face were subtle, not easy to decipher, but when he spoke there was genuine distress in his voice. “You have seen what has become of Stormfire.”

  And he had. The Wraith was more than a couple of fries short of a Happy Meal—unpredictable and dangerous. “What’s he got to do with this? We’re not bringing Crazy along for the ride.”

  “That,” Sting said, “is for Earthborn to decide. But there is no one who understands the devices of the Ancestors better than Stormfire.” He paused, his attention shifting someplace else, and then he said, “Come. Earthborn awaits you.”

  The only other time he’d been aboard the ship, Jack had been too preoccupied with staying alive to do a whole lot of sightseeing. Now, however, even in the weak light, he could see how decrepit the whole thing was—the damn ship was oozing.

  “It’s dying,” Carter said. She was one step ahead, almost side-by-side with Sting. “Your ship is dying.”

  Sting’s shoulders stiffened. “Yes.”

 

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