“Stand down, Captain Engenbe.” As the Marines lowered their weapons, Hammond softened his tone. “Captain Patel, I’m sorry about your team. Report to the infirmary. We’ll debrief after Dr. Fraiser clears you.”
Removing her gloves to reveal clean, unwounded hands, Patel said, “There’s nothing to clear, sir, I wasn’t hurt.”
“That’s an order, Captain.”
One of the side doors slid open to reveal Fraiser and four other medical staff, two of whom were wheeling a gurney. The diminutive doctor pushed past the Marines to look over the Jaffa.
Hammond looked at O’Neill. “Gather the rest of your team, Colonel. Once we’ve debriefed Captain Patel, I may need SG-1 to follow through.”
“Understood, sir.”
O’Neill went to the phone to call Carter and Daniel, who were doing whatever nerd things they did on their downtime, Carter in her lab surrounded by computers, Daniel in his office surrounded by crumbling pieces of paper. Teal’c he’d have to handle in person, as he was in the midst of kelnorim.
After calling the major and Daniel, he wandered through the corridors deep below Cheyenne Mountain toward Teal’c’s quarters. He didn’t know Patel or the other two subordinate members of SG-7 very well, but he and Lagdamen went back a few years. They’d bumped into each other here and there over their years in the service, and when Lagdamen was assigned to the SGC, they’d bonded over their mutual love of The Simpsons.
The memorial service for the members of SG-17, all killed when Zipacna destroyed the Tok’ra base on Revanna, wasn’t that long ago, and O’Neill was not at all happy that he was going to have to attend another funeral for lost comrades. For that matter, they’d lost a lot of really good people here on the base the last time they’d tussled with the Reetou three years ago.
O’Neill was damned if anyone else would die on his watch if he could possibly help it. But, to his eternal irritation, he often couldn’t possibly help it.
Once the colonel got Teal’c back from the depths of kelnorim — and somehow managed not to knock over any of the dozens of candles the Jaffa had all over the place — the pair of them joined Carter, Daniel, Hammond, Fraiser, and Patel in the briefing room adjacent to Hammond’s office.
The first thing O’Neill did was go to Patel. She had changed out of the fleece jacket and winter uniform and was now wearing the blue BDUs that were standard base-wear for SGC personnel. O’Neill also saw that she looked more than a little shell-shocked. “How you doin’, Captain?”
“Been better, sir,” Patel said through clenched teeth.
Sitting across from her, Daniel said, “I’m sorry about your team. Sergeant Castro was an amazing linguist.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Once they were all seated, Patel told the general, the doctor, and SG-1 exactly what happened on P3X-418.
Daniel frowned. “You said the First Prime’s name was Thakka?”
“I think so,” Patel said. “I only heard the name once.”
“Why do you ask, Dr. Jackson?” Hammond prompted.
“Well, when I was infiltrating the Goa’uld summit, Kali mentioned that her First Prime was killed by Anubis’s Jaffa. Later, I overheard her and Bastet talking, and she referred to her First Prime as ‘the Thakka.’ And, actually, that kind of makes sense as a title rather than a name. See, here on Earth, there was a guild of assassins and criminals who served Kali known as the Thuggees. In fact, that’s where the word thug comes from.”
“Really?” That actually surprised and impressed O’Neill, though he spoke his reply with his usual feigned disinterest. When either Daniel or Carter went off on an intellectual rant, O’Neill found it was better to always react with annoyance, regardless of whether or not he was actually annoyed, as showing that he thought any of it was cool would just encourage them to babble even more, and then nothing would ever get done.
“Yes, and another word for them is thakka. It’s not a big stretch to go from what the Thuggees did here and what the Jaffa do for the Goa’uld. It’s possible that Thakka is the title she gives to her First Prime.”
Now O’Neill’s disinterest was not at all feigned. “Fascinating,” he deadpanned. Then he turned to Patel. “With all due respect to what you went through out there, Captain, I gotta ask — what the hell were you thinking?”
“Sir?”
“Why did you bring this Thakka back here?”
Patel folded her hands together on the briefing table. “Sir, if it wasn’t for Thakka, I’d be dead right now with the rest of my team — and none of you would even be aware that anything was wrong for another five-and-a-half hours when we missed our check-in.”
“Yeah, but he’s the First Prime for a Goa’uld.”
Raising her eyebrows, Patel said, “So was Teal’c when you brought him back through the gate.”
O’Neill blinked. “That was different. He saved our li — ” He cut himself off. “Walked right into that one.”
“Indeed,” Teal’c said emphatically.
Thankfully, Hammond turned to Fraiser before O’Neill’s foot got any further down his throat. “Doctor, how is this Thakka?”
Fraiser sighed bitterly. “Luckily for him, we have a very comprehensive notion of what Reetou weapons do to a human body.”
O’Neill winced, reminded again of the personnel who were killed when the Reetou invaded. Fraiser had been able to examine their bodies, giving her useful intel on how the weapons worked, but it was overall a really lousy way to get that information.
The doctor continued. “We were able to stabilize him, which was necessary because his symbiote was damaged. It seems to be healing itself, and when that’s done, it should turn its attention to healing him. But I doubt he’ll be conscious for several hours. He’s in restraints with two guards armed with zats on either side of his bed, and two more guards at the entrance to the infirmary.”
“Good,” Patel said.
That surprised O’Neill, and he shot her a look.
Patel smiled. “I’m not an idiot, Colonel — he may have saved my life, but he’s still an enemy prisoner and quite dangerous.”
“Good for you.” And O’Neill meant that. He was worried that losing her team had clouded her judgment, but from the sounds of it, the captain had her head on straight.
Hammond said, “Captain, you said that the Jaffa referred to the world as Imphal?”
Patel nodded.
“Teal’c, do you know anything about the world?”
“Very little. Apophis and Kali did not come into conflict very often. However, this particular world is administrated by a Goa’uld in Kali’s service named Ramprasad.”
Carter finally spoke up. “Sir, I think we should send a UAV through to P3X-418 to do a recon, see the lay of the land.”
“Thakka seemed to think the Reetou who shot him was the only one left,” Patel said.
Nodding, Carter said, “Best to know for sure.”
“Agreed,” Hammond said. “If the UAV determines that it’s safe to send another team through, then SG-1 and SG-22 will go through the gate. Dr. Fraiser, is Captain Patel well enough to go with them?”
Fraiser shook her head. “I don’t want to clear the captain for active duty until she has a session with Dr. MacKenzie.”
O’Neill winced. MacKenzie was the SGC’s primary shrink, a class of doctor with whom O’Neill had no patience.
“Honestly, Doctor,” Patel said, “I’m fine with that. This isn’t my first time losing friends in combat, and I’ve always felt better after speaking with a therapist.”
That surprised O’Neill — he’d never found such conversations to be in any way helpful, not when he lost friends or when he lost his son or when his marriage disintegrated — but to each their own, he supposed.
The Unmanned Aerial Vehicle was ready to go in twenty minutes. That impressed O’Neill no end, since the first time they flew a UAV through the Stargate it had taken an hour and a half to prep.
It’s almost like we�
�re getting good at this.
In the gate room below, Sergeant Siler gave the UAV a final once-over on its cradle at the base of the ramp. Then he looked up. “All systems are go, Major.”
Carter nodded. “Dial it up, Sergeant.”
“Starting countdown,” Carter said, once the gate was open. “UAV launch in five — four — three — two — one.”
She fired the UAV’s two jets, released the clamps, and freed the UAV to zoom through the gate.
After a few seconds, Harriman said, “Receiving telemetry now.”
O’Neill watched as the monitor next to Carter showed a large body of water crowded with huge chunks of ice, and a very small island housing a Stargate.
Carter flew the UAV over a long stretch of water and ice before they finally found a landmass.
“Can someone explain to me why they put the gate on a teeny tiny little island like that?” O’Neill said.
Carter shrugged. “It’s possible the water levels rose after the gate was built. Remember P4X-234?”
O’Neill had to give her that one.
The landmass itself was covered in snow, as the island had been. There were plenty of stone and brick structures, and a giant castle built into the side of a mountain.
And a large number of dead bodies.
The UAV’s camera didn’t have good enough resolution to make out how many of the corpses had a dark circle tattooed on their foreheads, but enough of them had staff weapons at their sides for O’Neill to figure that they were Jaffa. None of them seemed to wear the big, bulky armor that was common to Jaffa, but O’Neill also knew that not every Goa’uld dressed their Jaffa the same way. Most of these seemed to be wearing robes and sashes.
But the vast majority of the corpses did not have staff weapons at their sides. They were just people and the Reetou had wiped them out, too. Jaffa were one thing — they were enemy combatants, and they were soldiers, trained for battle and knowing the risks.
Civilians, though…
A snarl started to build in O’Neill. It pissed him off so much. The Reetou were sworn enemies of the Goa’uld. They should have been fighting by the SGC’s side against the snake-heads. And they might have, if the main government had actually been able to keep any kind of control, but the rebel faction was too powerful, and they’d decided that the best way to stop the Goa’uld was to wipe out every human population they could, thus denying the snake-heads their host pool.
It was, O’Neill had thought then and now, a particularly stupid plan.
The Reetou would have been far better off allying themselves with Earth and the Jaffa resistance and yes, even the Tok’ra against the Goa’uld. But no, they had to go be mass murderers. Worse, invisible mass murderers.
Carter looked up at Hammond. “No sign of the Reetou, General, but the UAV isn’t equipped with T.E.R. technology. It’s possible that they completed their mission, used the rings to get to the gate, and went home. There was enough time for that between Captain Patel’s return and our dialing back.”
Hammond seemed to be considering it, so O’Neill put in his two cents. “There may be survivors hiding, General. Only way to be sure is to send a team.”
Nodding, Hammond said, “All right. SG-1 you have a go. SG-22 will back you up and also bring the bodies of SG-7 home for burial.”
Grateful, O’Neill said, “Thank you, sir.” He didn’t want Liza Lagdamen and the families of Castro and Johnson not to have anything to bury. “Carter, let’s suit up.”
CHAPTER TWO
P3X-418
EVERY TIME Teal’c stepped through the chappa’ai, it was with the hope that he would be able to prevent a life from ending.
It was the only manner in which he could even begin to make amends for all the lives he himself was responsible for ending as Apophis’s First Prime.
He was not always fortunate enough to do so, but it was never due to an unwillingness to make the attempt on his part.
This particular mission would seem to have few opportunities for such, as the Reetou were very thorough. But there might well be others who — like Captain Patel — had survived. It was Teal’c’s fervent hope that he and his fellows in SG-1 would find them.
After going through the gate to the island, Teal’c found himself shivering uncontrollably. The temperatures were quite low and Teal’c felt a bitter cold, worse than he’d felt since his days training with Bra’tac on one of Apophis’s coldest worlds.
Looking around, he saw that the rest of SG-1 and all of SG-22 were safely through. Seconds later, the wormhole disengaged.
“Carter,” O’Neill said, pointing at the snow-covered ring controls.
“Yes, sir.” Major Carter knelt down and brushed snow off the controls. As everyone moved to stand in the middle of the rings, Major Carter entered the sequence provided by Captain Patel.
Within seconds, they were transported to a clearing.
Teal’c raised his ma’tok, ready to fire the staff weapon at a moment’s notice, and reached out with all his senses — not just his eyes, but also his ears and nose, as Master Bra’tac had painstakingly taught him all those years ago.
Bra’tac had actually forced Teal’c to spar with him blindfolded. Teal’c had initially thought the notion to be foolish, more so when Bra’tac was repeatedly able to move to the side or behind him without his noticing and take him down.
When Teal’c had ripped the blindfold off, Bra’tac had shouted at him to put it back on. “You may find yourself fighting in a room with no light. You may be blinded by external means, or by your own sweat or blood getting in your eyes. In those circumstances, you must rely on the other four senses to guide you.”
And so Bra’tac had taught him to listen for footfalls, to feel changes in the wind as the breezes touched his body, to identify things by smell and taste as much as by sight and sound.
Now on Imphal, he saw nothing but snow, heard nothing but the wind, and smelled nothing but the telltale stench of burning flesh. In addition, his symbiote larva was placid, which meant that there were no Reetou in the vicinity.
They quickly came upon several corpses: three Tau’ri and many Jaffa.
O’Neill looked at Teal’c. “Junior feeling anything?”
“My symbiote remains unaffected, O’Neill.”
“Good.” O’Neill turned to Isabelle Mazursky, the commanding officer of SG-22. “Major, get these bodies back to the gate. Send them through, but I want you four guarding the gate just in case. I’ll check in with you in an hour — maintain radio silence unless it’s an emergency.”
“Yes, sir,” Major Mazursky said, then she got her people to work.
O’Neill turned to his team. “Let’s move.”
Teal’c took point due to his symbiote’s sensitivity to the Reetou. Major Carter followed close behind with a T.E.R., then Daniel Jackson, with O’Neill defending them from behind.
Systematically, they moved through the snow-covered ground, eventually reaching a settlement. Neither Teal’c’s symbiote nor Major Carter’s T.E.R. detected any Reetou.
They then went from structure to structure — mostly residences, plus a tavern — but found only corpses.
After confirming that all those inside the tavern were no longer alive, Daniel Jackson said, “Definnitely the Reetou’s usual scorched-earth approach. Or scorched Imphal, I guess.” He then moved behind the bar. “Hang on, there’s someone back here — I think he’s still breathing!”
Teal’c and Major Carter both moved to the area behind the bar to see Daniel Jackson kneeling over a man lying on the floor, broken bottles at his side. Teal’c noticed first that his raiments were finer than those of the other civilians they’d encountered in their search.
And then he felt something else. Hosting a Goa’uld symbiote larve meant that Teal’c could sense other symbiotes. Since this person did not have the mark of a Jaffa, it meant that he was a Goa’uld, likely one of Kali’s servants.
Major Carter glanced over at him. “You feel it too,
Teal’c?”
“Indeed.”
The Goa’uld’s eyes fluttered open. “Please, help me.” He spoke without the distortion that accompanied most Goa’uld’s speech. “I am Ramprasad.”
Immediately, Teal’c pointed his ma’tok at the man and set it to the ready position, the sides of the muzzle separating with an electric sizzle. O’Neill and Major Carter also raised their P90s.
“Please,” Ramprasad said haltingly, “I am not who you think I am.”
“He thinks you’re Kali’s chief flunky on this rock,” O’Neill said. “So do I.”
“I am that, yes — but I am also of the Tok’ra.” His eyes glowed briefly, and then his voice was distorted. “My host speaks true. Shree talak mar shaba.”
Teal’c knew the phrase — it was nonsense, random words strung together, but the Tok’ra used it as a recognition code.
Major Carter and Colonel O’Neill lowered their P90s, but Teal’c did not entirely trust that this wasn’t a Goa’uld who had learned the code phrase.
“What happened here?” O’Neill asked.
“The Reetou. They attacked without warning, without mercy. And it was not their usual mode of attack. There were dozens of them.”
Major Carter looked at O’Neill. “That matches what Captain Patel reported, sir.”
“You are of the Tau’ri, yes? In fact, since this Jaffa is with you, you must be their team number one, led by Colonel Jack O’Neill.” Ramprasad looked at Daniel Jackson. “Colonel, by the terms — ”
“Hey!” O’Neill cried out. “I’m O’Neill!”
Ramprasad bowed his head. “My apologies, Colonel. By the terms of your agreement with the Tok’ra, I ask that you bring me to your base. This massacre will allow me cover to return to the Tok’ra.”
“Gee, how lucky for you,” Daniel Jackson muttered.
O’Neill snorted and spoke in a sarcastic tone. “The ‘colonel’ has a point. These people got slaughtered.”
“I am fully aware of what has transpired here, Colonel. Unlike you, I lived among these people. I tried to ameliorate their suffering while living under Kali as best I could, while maintaining my cover. I grieve for them. But I have been undercover for a decade now. The deaths of these people will haunt me for the rest of my days, however it does not change the opportunity it presents.”
STARGATE SG-1: Kali's Wrath (SG1-28) Page 2
