Stargate SG-1 30 - Insurrection

by Sally Malcolm

  And footsteps.

  Swiveling, still crouched, he got his weapon up just in time to see Carter lift her hands.

  “It’s me.”

  “Carter.” He couldn’t keep the relieved smile from spoiling his frown. “A little more notice next time.”

  She rolled her eyes and dropped down next to him, breathing hard. He was pleased to see that he wasn’t the only one catching his breath. “They’re just a couple minutes out, sir. I think the Jaffa called for backup—gliders.”

  Picking up the staff weapon from where it lay next to him, he said, “I’ll see what I can do about that if you keep the Jaffa busy.”

  “You won’t be able to risk getting out in the open to take the shot, sir.”

  “I know. I don’t need to take it down, just need to give it something else to think about while our guys get the gate open.”

  She glanced up through the rainy canopy. “SG-1 made good time. The Jaffa are going to need to delay them for a while—it was daylight when we went through the gate.”

  “And back to the future.” Jack sighed. “Carter, you got any idea why?”

  “The only…” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it, sir. Unless Hecate needed us in the future for some reason?”

  “And how would she possibly know that?”

  Again, Carter just shook her head. “I think there are some questions we’re just never going to be able to answer, sir.”

  He supposed she was right, given that time was running out real fast. “So when they go through the gate, that’s it? That’s when…” He wiggled his fingers to encompass the end of an entire timeline, an alternate universe of life. “Boom?”

  “Yes sir, although there won’t be an actual boom. At least, I don’t think so.” She gave a rueful smile. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before.”

  “And, ironically, you’ll never know that you did.” A world without consequences, Teal’c had called it. Jack thought that had a certain apocalyptic appeal. “C’mon, Sundance,” he said, “let’s go find our blaze of glory.”

  Chapter 12

  Arbella — 2098

  When Daniel had first arrived on Arbella, he’d balked at the precarious main route they’d taken down the cliff side. Compared to the narrow, crumbling ledge they now found themselves on, that path seemed like a four-lane highway. He clung to the side of the rock face and kept his eyes on Hanna as she made her sure-footed way ahead of him, the wind dragging at them all with needy claws. He wondered how Teal’c was getting on behind him, with his huge Jaffa frame and wounded as he was, but didn’t dare turn his head to look.

  Their descent seemed endless, and Daniel had begun to wonder what the ancient civilization who built this place had against elevators when they rounded an outcrop and he saw that the path finally broadened out to take them a couple hundred feet to the bottom.

  “Where to now?” he asked Bailey, wiping the red dust from his hands. They were grazed and sore from clinging to the shallow handholds offered by the rock face and he hissed at the sting.

  She gestured them into a crouch and pointed out across the lights of Laketown to a low building that sat on a bluff on one of the hills in the distance. Daniel had noticed it before, set as it was above the rest of the town and looking slightly grander than the small stucco houses. “That’s the president’s residence. It’d be quicker if we could cut straight through the town to get there, but I daresay your presence would be noted. Yuma will have her people on the lookout.”

  “I guess the ‘wookiee’ tactic wouldn’t work?” said Daniel.

  Bailey squinted at him.

  “Never mind,” he muttered. He had definitely been hanging with Jack O’Neill for too long.

  Led by Bailey, they set off on a route skirting the edges of the town and sticking to the rocky plains. In the gaps between the buildings, he caught glimpses of figures walking with the familiar slow gait of guards on patrol. Though they were shielded by darkness, Daniel still felt stark in the moonlight, sure that they’d be spotted. Bailey knew what she was doing, though, and their path was circuitous, their progress in staggered bursts. By the time they were within the vicinity of the presidential residence, he was winded and even Teal’c was sweating.

  “You okay, big guy?” he asked, glancing down at his friend’s side. Hanna had apparently dressed the wound, but Daniel was pretty sure that, no matter the healing capabilities of a Goa’uld symbiote, this exertion couldn’t be good for Teal’c.

  “I am fine,” replied Teal’c. Daniel guessed he shouldn’t have expected any other reply.

  They waited, sheltered in darkness, as Hanna darted on ahead on the orders of Bailey to check out the area. “Yuma has security details everywhere,” she said. “I don’t expect this to be easy.”

  Sure enough, when Hanna returned, it wasn’t encouraging. “Two on the front door ma’am, and another two patrolling the building. I’d say our best bet is going in through the terrace windows to the rear, but we have to time it well.”

  Bailey nodded. “Alright, then we make it as easy as possible for ourselves and keep risks to a minimum. Sergeant, you and your men are dismissed. My thanks for all you’ve done here.”

  For a second, it looked as if Hanna might protest, but then, perhaps seeing her commanding officer’s expression, she came to attention and saluted. “For Arbella, ma’am. It’s our honor.” And then they were gone, leaving Daniel, Teal’c and Bailey to go on alone.

  On Bailey’s guidance, they avoided the front of the building altogether, hiding behind the property’s low perimeter wall in a crouch that was almost a crawl. Though the current security measures were apparently much tighter than the Arbellan Commander in Chief was used to, and still posed a problem, Daniel acknowledged that it could have been much more difficult for them; he wondered what President Jones would have made of the White House Secret Service and the agents who’d served at the pleasure of the president. He also wondered if any of these officers would be willing to take a bullet for their leader and hoped, fervently, that it would not come to that.

  “Okay, here they come,” said Bailey, as the patrol appeared round the corner of the residence. “Those terrace doors they’re walking past? That’s where we’re headed. Hanna says we have around a minute thirty from the time they round the opposite corner to when they reappear, so we move as soon as they’re out of sight.”

  “Daniel Jackson,” said Teal’c, “my wound is slowing me down. I believe I will hinder your speed.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Teal’c.”

  “I am concealed here. I can await your return.”

  In truth, the thought of making his case to the president without his teammate by his side unnerved Daniel. Though his role as the diplomat of SG-1 and the Stargate program was one that he now accepted, the fact was that it had fallen to him almost by accident, purely by virtue of his academic knowledge of languages rather than any formal skills at negotiation. He would never feel entirely at ease with the task, but having Sam, Jack and Teal’c by his side always gave him the courage he needed.

  But it was unusual to hear Teal’c acknowledge a weakness and Daniel knew he must be struggling. He’d have to go this one alone, and hope that Bailey would have his back—despite the betrayal she must feel because of their actions in the data center and all that it implied about their loyalty to Arbella. He had to assume that Jones knew about that too…

  At last, the two guards disappeared around the other side of the building, and Daniel moved, Bailey at his shoulder. Gravel crunched beneath his feet, no matter how light-footed he tried to be. His heart beat fast as his eyes darted between the terrace door and either side of the house, expecting the guards to come running back at any second. But no one appeared and then they were on the level surface of the terrace.

  The double doors were locked, of course, but Bailey produced a wide bladed knife from a pocket in her pants, and wedged it into the gap. With a swift twist of her wrist, she’d jimmied the door and
it sprang open with a barely audible crack. Once inside, she moved through what looked like a library with the speed and grace of one familiar with their surroundings. As the leader of the Arbellan military, Daniel guessed that she would have been a close acquaintance of President Jones and wondered if, in fact, a real friendship had been put to the test by current tensions.

  He knew what it was to butt heads over ideals with someone whom you respected more than anyone in the world. He could only hope that Jones was still willing to listen to Bailey, just like he knew Jack would have listened to him in a similar situation. All they needed was to find him in the house before the guards found them.

  They were just approaching the library door when it flew open and the light came on. Daniel blinked against the glare and saw, in the doorway, the man they’d come to see. He also saw the gun in his hand.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, General?” demanded Gunnison Jones through gritted teeth. His hand was steady and from the furious look on his face Daniel didn’t doubt he that he’d shoot if he didn’t like her answer.

  Bailey held out her hands, placating. “Mr. President, we just need you to hear us out.”

  “Hear you out? You break into my home in the middle of the night, and bring a dangerous traitor with you, and you want me to hear you out?”

  So Jones had known that he and Teal’c had returned to the planet. He wondered how much of the truth Yuma had spoon-fed him along with her lies. He certainly couldn’t have known about Lana. “Mr. President,” he said, “I mean no harm to Arbella.”

  Jones trained his weapon on Daniel. “You were trying to take control of the gate room. After we’d extended you our trust, you chose to betray us. Why did you—?” He broke off as if the words pained him. When he spoke again, his voice was harsh with feeling. “Why did you use my wife as an excuse to leave Arbella? Why did you give me false hope?”

  “It wasn’t false hope. At least, that wasn’t our intention.” This wasn’t how Daniel had wanted to break the news to the man. He was torn between defending SG-1 and trying to soften the blow of what he had to impart.

  “So she’s here then?” said Jones, his tone mocking but with something raw beneath.

  Daniel took a breath. “No, she’s—”

  “I’m sorry, Gun,” said Bailey. “Lana’s dead.”

  Jones’ jaw tightened. “I know that, Roz,” he said. “I had accepted it until you convinced me that these people could bring her back. You convinced me to believe them, but they were liars all along.”

  “No,” said Bailey. “It’s Karin Yuma who’s the liar. She’s manipulated this situation all along, since before SG-1 even arrived.”

  Daniel stepped forward and then halted when Jones tightened his grip on the gun. “Mr. President, we did bring Lana back.” The look of guarded hope on the man’s face tightened like a vice around Daniel’s heart, but the truth couldn’t be put off any longer. “We brought her back, sir, but Yuma… she killed her.” The words tasted like ash in his mouth and, for a moment, he could feel the burn of a Goa’uld hand device on his forehead and smell the acrid stench of a staff blast.

  Jones shook his head. “You’re a liar.” He turned to Bailey. “Roz, how could you—?”

  “It’s true, Gun. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “No…” Jones took a step back, as if he could back away from the horrible truth. “No, it’s not possible.”

  Quietly, Daniel said, “I’m so sorry. If it’s—” He swallowed. “I know it’s no consolation. I know that nothing can ever console you for the loss of someone you love, but you should know that Lana wasn’t herself when we found her. I’m not sure how much she knew about where she was or what was going on. She—” It was something of a white lie, but perhaps it would help. “She didn’t suffer when she died.”

  Jones face was desolate, the hand holding the gun starting to tremble. “What do you mean she wasn’t herself?”

  Daniel glanced at Bailey and she gave him a slight nod, agreement to carry on. “Her mind had been damaged by the Wraith,” he said. “But… But she knew you, Mr. President. I carried her back to the Stargate myself and she knew your name—she remembered you.”

  Jones pressed his eyes shut, his throat working as he tried to swallow. “I don’t understand,” he said in a thin, exposed voice. “Why did—? Why would Yuma kill her? Out of pity?”

  “No,” Bailey said. “Out of desperation.”

  A long moment of silence passed, then Jones opened his eyes and they were clear and hard. “What do you mean, desperation?”

  “She was afraid that you’d open the Stargate, sir,” Daniel said. “She was afraid that people here would trust us again—and that you’d decide to help us fight for Earth.”

  Jones said nothing, licked at his dry lips. Daniel couldn’t get a read on his expression.

  “Yuma is dangerous, Gun,” Bailey said. “And she’s foolish too. She thinks we can just hide behind our gate shield, live inside a bubble here on Arbella, but there’s a threat out there and it’s only a matter of time before it lands on our doorstep.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You brought it to our doorstep!”

  “You know that’s not true. The Goa’uld, the Wraith… They don’t need the Stargate to reach us, Gun. They have ships and—”

  “And now they know where we are! You’ve opened us up to attack.”

  “No, that’s not—”

  But their argument was cut short as the terrace door burst open and two guards surged in—holding Teal’c at gunpoint. “We found these two just outside the wall, Mr. President,” said one of the guards and, as Teal’c stood immobile and expressionless, the guard shoved a second man into the middle of the room.

  “Hayden?” said Jones.

  Yuma’s second-in-command was bleeding from a cut above his eye, his face grimy and bruised. Daniel had last seen him with his gun trained on Yuma, but if he was here…

  “Where’s Yuma?” demanded Bailey.

  “I don’t know. She overpowered me and got away. I don’t know where she is now.” He turned to Jones. “But I had to come here, Mr. President. I had to make sure you knew the truth. She’s been lying to you for so long, but she always said it was for the good of Arbella, and I believed her. Until now.”

  Jones lowered his weapon now that his security detail was here, though he still gripped it so tight his knuckles were white. “Now?”

  “Sir, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know how far she’d go…” Hayden’s voice cracked and tears spilled over on to his cheeks. In that moment, Daniel saw a young man completely unprepared for the depths to which greed could drive those ambitious for power.

  And when he looked at Jones, he saw, finally, a man facing the stark truth of his wife’s fate.

  P5X-104 — 2000

  SG-1 was coming in hot, the Jaffa close behind and apparently getting desperate. Hecate’s plan—whatever it was—was about to go horribly wrong.

  Sam was only sorry she wouldn’t get to see Hecate’s face when she realized she’d failed. And then she remembered that she didn’t even know what Hecate’s face looked like at this point in time. But it wasn’t Janet and that thought sang like joy inside her. It would never be Janet, not now.

  She had taken cover to the right of the Stargate, giving herself a clear shot past the DHD that would allow her to lay down covering fire if necessary. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, especially from her past-self or Daniel, but if needs must she’d be able to protect them from where she hid as they dialed out. The colonel was on the other side of the gate, waiting for the glider’s strafing runs that they both knew were coming—just like they had the first time they’d run this scenario.

  And from the tree line she could hear the other colonel barking orders, the rattle of MP5 fire and the scorching blast of staff weapons lighting up the rain-sodden night as he slid to a halt at the edge of the forest. Ducking behind a tree, he lay down covering fire and barked, “Carter
. Dial us up!”

  “Yes sir!”

  It was strange to watch herself, bedraggled and exhausted, bolting from the tree line, head down and legs pumping. Sam kept her eyes fixed on the forest, watching for movement—there had been Jaffa covering the gate, last time—while her former-self zig-zagged across the clearing toward the gate.

  Then, to her right, Sam saw movement—the dull glint of armor. She opened fire and saw the Jaffa go down, flung back against a tree.

  The other Sam ducked at the sound, but kept running. She didn’t even glance at the tree line, just flung herself behind the DHD and started dialing. Sam remembered having to reach across from behind the DHD to dial upside down, and she remembered how she’d thought that was the reason she’d misdialed. She’d blamed herself for not getting them home, for Daniel not getting the medical treatment he’d needed, when all along…

  Hecate.

  Tightening her jaw in anger, she glanced up at the gate as it began to spin. Faint, over the weapons fire, she heard shouting in the Goa’uld language and then the deadly sound of a glider on approach.

  SG-1 heard it too. The colonel glanced up at the sky—still empty—and yelled, “Get to the gate!”

  Daniel and Teal’c broke cover. Teal’c ran with one eye on the sky while Daniel sprinted for the DHD where past-Sam was covering him as the fourth chevron engaged.

  And then the glider was on them, strafing the ground and sending Daniel tumbling forward.

  Sam’s heart caught in her throat. The moment seemed to last forever as he fell, rolled over and over. And then he was back on his feet, staggering to find his balance but running. He looked unhurt.

  The glider banked up and hard left, coming in from a new angle.

  And that’s when the staff blast erupted from the trees on the other side of the clearing. The colonel. Her colonel. He got two solid hits, right on the nose. It wasn’t enough to bring the glider down, but it was enough to send it veering left and up over the gate, clearing the egress for Teal’c and the other O’Neill.