Stargate SG-1 & Atlantis - Far Horizons

by Sally Malcolm

  He picked them up, wondering exactly what ‘words’ Jack would have for Penthos.

  5. Acceptance (n): {psychology} — Coming to terms with the inevitable. Embracing the opportunity to make peace. A highly individualized stage not necessarily achieved by everyone.

  The blink of an eye. A shift in one’s thoughts.

  The change of one perspective for another.

  A jagged current rippled across Penthos’ skin. He pushed the pain aside, enabling the cargo hold’s sensor lens so he might see Colonel O’Neill. He wished to understand why this man was both admired and disdained for his methods.

  Penthos zoomed in on the man’s features. Tiny cuts covered much of O’Neill’s gaunt face. While a first impression would show an injured human sprawled out in repose to recover, Penthos noticed the agitation that lay within. Long fingers toyed with a bloodied bandage on his neck. Legs crossed and uncrossed.

  “Well?” O’Neill glared into the camera.

  “You are older than expected.” And yet, so young. So impossibly young.

  Haider had been like that.

  The cargo hold doors slid open. Daniel Jackson strode in, holding a black and white book and two pieces of yellow-painted wood.

  “Everything all right in here?” The doors slid closed behind him.

  O’Neill turned his gaze toward his subordinate. “Give it a rest, Daniel.”

  “Says the pot to the kettle.” He offered the book and wood pieces to O’Neill. “If you and Penthos run out of things to talk about… Well, maybe you could try filling in a few of these.”

  O’Neill did not move.

  Daniel Jackson lowered his voice, but Penthos could still hear. “You know she would’ve wanted you to keep doing them.”

  “In a manner of speaking, she outranked me.” O’Neill’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t.”

  “No… I don’t.”

  A silence fell between the two men. Penthos could not tell if it was one born of companionship or woe. Daniel Jackson broke the peace, dropping the proffered objects into O’Neill’s lap.

  “Think of it as a way to honor her memory.”

  Daniel Jackson departed, his final words affirming Penthos’ decision.

  Jack stared at the crossword book, hating everything it represented.

  “Does Daniel Jackson’s insubordination trouble you, Colonel O’Neill?”

  Jack snorted. “If you only knew.”

  “And yet I detect humor in your voice. I am not familiar with Tau’ri mannerisms, but you appeared to smile in response to my question.”

  “What’s your point?” Jack tossed the book aside. He’d volunteered for babysitting duty to keep the Goa’uld out of everyone else’s hair, not to be psycho-analyzed by a snake.

  “I suppose I have no point other than that I, too, have struggled with subordinates not understanding the need for a clean chain of command. Subordinates who meant well, but —”

  “Look, the last thing I need is command advice from a…” He stopped himself from saying the G word, but it wasn’t easy.

  “Does the book carry great meaning amongst the Tau’ri?”

  “This thing?” He scowled at the book. “More like it carries a proverbial pain in my butt.”

  “How can a book be so problematic for the great Colonel O’Neill?”

  “The ‘great Colonel O’Neill,’ huh?” Jack recognized a failed suck-up when he heard one. He thumbed the radio in his tac vest. “Carter? How’s it going in there?”

  “Penthos is as good as his word, sir. We’ve managed to isolate the line feeding into the control crystal without getting shocked. I just need to —”

  “Yeah, I don’t need the details.” He glanced up at the blue fish-eye lens on the wall. If keeping it distracted would get them home, so be it. “Let me know if the situation changes. The faster we’re outta here, the better.”

  Dropping his hand from the radio, he felt his fingers brush against the crossword puzzle book. The Goa’uld wanted company? All right. He could do that.

  Opening the book to a random page, he picked up the leaded pencil half. “Right then, let’s start easy. One across: three letter word for ‘feline.’ Well, that’s simple. ‘Cat.’”

  “Please explain. Is your book some sort of dictionary?”

  “Nope. It’s a game.” He explained the basics, but then it occurred to him… “Goa’uld language and English aren’t the same, are they?”

  “I am not Goa’uld, Colonel.” The wall speaker rattled; Jack tried to ignore how much it sounded like a sigh.

  He scribbled in the word ‘cat.’ “Next up: a nine-letter word for ‘puzzle.’ First letter would need to be a ‘C.’ If it’s too hard for ya —”

  “As a spy within the Tok’ra network, I have learned many languages.”

  “Including ours?”

  “Enough to know that the word you seek is ‘conundrum.’”

  “That works.” Jack tucked away the fact that a Tok’ra spy knew how to spell Earth-English and penciled in the word.

  “Is this a common custom amongst the Tau’ri?”

  “Custom?” The next word wasn’t too hard. “Seven across, five letters for —”

  “Daniel Jackson said performing this puzzle would ‘honor her memory.’ I wish to learn more about honoring memories of the fallen. Whose memory did he mean, Colonel?”

  “No one you know.”

  “You have lost someone. I have lost someone.”

  “Yeah, well. Who hasn’t?” Jack slapped the book shut. “This is ridiculous. I’m not playing crossword puzzles. Not with a snake. Not with anybody.”

  The speaker rattled again. “Was my capture by Anubis the cause of her demise? She must have been a fine warrior. A soldier worthy of —”

  “Janet wasn’t a soldier,” he muttered, wishing Penthos would just go away. “She was a doctor. She patched us up. Kept our guts from spilling out all over —”

  “So her battles were not on the field.”

  “No, they weren’t.”

  “Was she brave?”

  He stared at Penthos’ lens. The lens stared back.

  “They didn’t get any braver.” Jack re-opened the book.

  Sam stepped around the black box, giving it a wide berth. The cables coming from the nutrient tank to the box were still hot, but the cables feeding out to both hyper-drive drawers were offline. Thanks to Penthos, she and Daniel had managed to isolate the cables leading to the original control crystal. Now it was simply a case of replacing the crystal with the one they’d retrieved from Anubis’s factory. The trick was using a small enough tool to bend back the brackets without damaging them.

  “Be careful, Jacob’s daughter,” Penthos warned. “Any static fed back into the isolated cables could electrocute me.”

  “Got it. Keep the nutrient tank clear of any discharge.” She reviewed her kit, confirming her worst fear. She didn’t have the right tool. “Daniel, did you bring your archaeology kit?”

  “On a mission to blow up a drone factory?”

  “If I had a small enough tool…” She wiped her forearm across her brow. The tank’s high humidity made the engine room feel like a sauna. She examined the brackets surrounding the cable-wrapped crystal. “Something like a miniaturized pick or —”

  “Promise you won’t tell Jack?”

  Sam looked up. “So you do have your kit.”

  “Never leave home without it.”

  “Even when our mission had everything to do with stopping Anubis and nothing to do with ancient ruins?”

  Daniel wiggled his eyebrows. “Busted.”

  With a laugh, she waved him off to retrieve his kit from the cockpit.

  “I have not heard that sound in a very lon
g time.”

  Sam peered at the lens over the hyper-drive drawers. “It’s been awhile for me, too.”

  “Because you lost Janet?”

  Sam stiffened. Of course… The symbiote must have heard everything since they’d first come on board.

  “Jacob’s daughter —”

  “It’s Major Carter, actually, but if you’re related to Selmak, I guess that makes us almost family so… Call me Samantha or Sam.” She forced a grin she didn’t quite feel.

  “Family. Are all of SG-1 a family?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” The grin came more easily. “Pretty much all of Stargate Command’s like that. Aren’t the Tok’ra?”

  “I would die for the Tok’ra.”

  Sam squeezed her eyes shut against the remorse in Penthos’ voice. “I think, if anything, Janet’s death has brought home that maybe it’s more important to live. Getting angry won’t fix things,” she realized aloud.

  She opened her eyes and gazed at the symbiote in its tank. Penthos’ red and yellow serpentine eyes stared back at her. “Let’s get this crystal swapped out so we can take you home, okay?”

  The eyes blinked in what she could only assume was agreement. “Samantha, is there a Tau’ri significance involving death and crossword puzzles?”

  “God, no.” She picked up the primary cable leading into the box. “Daniel must have his reasons —”

  “To honor her memory?”

  Sam cocked her head. “Different people find different ways to ways to remember those they lost.”

  “I suppose I must find my way.”

  Just as she needed to find hers. “So do I,” she whispered.

  With a flick of his tail, Penthos turned his back to her. Sam was just about ask him if everything was all right when Daniel strode in.

  “Will this work?” He held up a miniature trowel, no longer than five centimeters. The end had a gold-plated spade.

  “Daniel, why the crossword puzzles?”

  “Oh, that…” He went over to the hyper-drive drawer. “Janet made Jack do them every once in a while. Ever since he stuck his head in that Ancient Repository.”

  She joined him by the drive. “What on Earth for?”

  “To make sure Jack’s mind was intact. The Asgard might have removed the Ancients’ knowledge, but —”

  “Janet wanted to make sure that was all they took.”

  “Yeah. She was clever that way.” Frowning, he pointed the miniature trowel toward the jerry-rigged crystal.

  “Careful!” She plucked the trowel from his hand. “We need to avoid sending any charge through the cable. Here, help me swap these out.” She handed him the new crystal.

  Sliding the trowel between the two closest cables, she reached for the nearest bracket, and —

  “Whoah!” Daniel pointed at the nutrient tank, where Penthos was listing to one side.

  “But there wasn’t any spark!” Sam pulled the trowel back out. “Penthos, are you all right?”

  The deck surged upward, throwing her to the floor — a hand’s breadth away from the charged black box. Daniel managed to keep his footing and helped haul her back up.

  “Major Carter,” Teal’c called over the radio. “Has the hyper-drive been repaired?”

  Sam thumbed her radio. “Not yet. What’s going on?”

  “We’re under attack!” Colonel O’Neill barked. “One of Anubis’s motherships, and it’s coming in fast.”

  Teal’c knew the only way for SG-1 to survive would be if he took the Tel’tak underneath the mothership to avoid its most forward guns.

  “How the hell did they find us!” O’Neill emerged from the cargo-hold and slid into the navigator’s seat.

  “Is it not obvious?” Twin balls of plasma shot toward them, confirming Teal’c’s decision to dive. He pushed the cargo ship down below the massive disc forming the center of the mothership. Although gun banks covered the many spikes protruding from the mothership’s belly, the cargo ship had the advantage of maneuverability.

  “Damn it,” O’Neill growled. “They tracked the ship.”

  “Indeed.”

  Once beneath the dome, a gun bank pivoted in their direction. Teal’c rolled the ship onto its side so the shields would spread the blast, minimizing impact.

  “You’re sure we don’t have any weapons?” O’Neill asked.

  “None.”

  Teal’c spun the ship around, heading back the way they had come. He gripped the control globe as plasma rounds from the mothership’s port side grazed the bow. The cargo ship shuddered, tossing O’Neill from his chair.

  “Hold on!” Teal’c yanked back on the control globe, well aware that the artificial gravity might falter. More weapons fire erupted from the mothership, but went wide. Teal’c glanced quickly at O’Neill. He’d pulled himself back into his chair, blood trickling down his collar from beneath his bandage.

  “Keep ‘em guessing, T.” O’Neill thumbed his radio. “How much longer, kids?”

  “Working as fast as I can, sir!”

  “Holding the ship steady would help,” added Daniel Jackson.

  “Funny man. Carter, what’s left to do?”

  “I’ve replaced the crystal, but the hyper-drive won’t work until I reconnect the cables.”

  “Then what’s the problem? Connect them. Teal’c — watch out!”

  Rapid-fire bursts riddled the space ahead. Teal’c banked right.

  The HUD flickered, but held. Teal’c headed toward the mothership’s aft region where he’d spotted a lack of gunnery.

  “Sir,” Major Carter shouted on the radio, “with the artificial gravity acting up, Teal’c has to keep the ship steady or any attempt to reconnect the cabling could kill Penthos.”

  “He’s trying, Carter.” O’Neill wiped away the blood pooling at his collarbone. “How the hell did that oily-skinned snake manage to find us way out in the galactic suburbs?”

  Teal’c decelerated as they neared the mothership’s rear thrusters, six plasma guns swiveling around to meet them. Pushing the control globe downward, he pitched the ship head over tail. The ship responded, heading back toward the center of Anubis’s ship.

  “How you holding up, Teal’c?”

  “I am uncertain how long we can sustain this pace.”

  “You must connect the hyper-drive. Even if it ends my life.”

  A shower of sparks all but drowned out Penthos’ proposal, but Teal’c heard him.

  As did O’Neill. “It’s not happening, so drop the noble Tok’ra suicide talk.”

  The central gun loomed ahead. It dropped farther from the dome and spun toward them. Teal’c banked left and went back toward the aft thrusters.

  Jumping up from his seat, O’Neill came to stand beside him. “I’ve flown a few kamikaze missions in my day. Get up.”

  Teal’c gratefully obliged. O’Neill climbed into the pilot’s seat and gripped the control globe with fervor.

  “I am prepared to die, Colonel O’Neill. Are you prepared to live?”

  A flinch from O’Neill was the only response as he began a pattern of alternating forward pitches and sideways rolls. The mothership’s artillery continued to shoot, but O’Neill’s tactics aided them in escaping any direct hits.

  “I have lived my life. I would honor —”

  “Jack, don’t listen to Penthos!” cried Daniel Jackson. “Just hold the ship steady. We’re almost —”

  The ship jolted sideways, a support beam plummeting to the deck behind them.

  “The ship can sustain little more damage.” Teal’c glanced at the blue lens he had come to identify with Penthos. The situation was dire. With regret, he knew it fell upon him to provide the unconsidered option. “I understand the bond that has formed with
the Tok’ra Penthos, but —”

  “I wouldn’t call it a bond, T, but come on! It — He’s a Tok’ra, not a Goa’uld. I doubt he even knew the ship was being tracked.”

  Another hit. More sparks rained down across the cockpit.

  “You are all fools,” Penthos boomed, his voice deeper. Cruel. “Lord Anubis wastes his time with you.”

  “Excuse me?” O’Neill asked. “We’re trying to save your Tok’ra ass!”

  “I am not Tok’ra,” Penthos hissed through the intercom. “I am Goa’uld, servant to Anubis, greatest of the system lords!”

  Teal’c’s hand shot to the zat’ni’katel in his leg holster.

  “A tracking device on board this Tel’tak has informed Lord Anubis of your every move toward the Tau’ri’s new Alpha Site.”

  “Sonofabitch,” O’Neill growled. “I knew it. Never trust a snake.”

  “But you did. You trusted me. The great Colonel O’Neill — a bloodied fool who plays at games. Teal’c the Shol’vah, so mindless in his following of your every move. And worse! You set a female to counter technologies far beyond your understanding.”

  The ship pitched forward, and with it, O’Neill. Teal’c grabbed his arm to pull him back, but O’Neill shook his head and gestured at his hand. He’d covered Penthos’ lens beside the HUD.

  “Go!” he mouthed, gesturing toward the engine room.

  “Even half alive, I bested you.”

  Teal’c raced for the engine room, dodging support beams and wires hanging from the ceiling as he ran. Penthos’ words from when first they met echoed in his memory.

  “Half of who I was is no more.”

  Friend or foe, Teal’c saw no other choice.

  The whole ship felt like it was falling apart. Daniel crouched with Sam beside the hyper-drive in disbelief. Dangling cables sparked, liquid sloshed over the nutrient tank’s sides as noxious vapors hissed from exposed vents in the collapsing ceiling. The engine room was a nightmare, made all the worse when Teal’c showed up, a charged zat behind his back. His intention was clear.