O’Neill shook his head. “Fine, whatever. We’ll get you back to Revanna.”
Teal’c bridled, then realized what O’Neill was doing. Zipacna had destroyed the Tok’ra’s base on Revanna. If Ramprasad was unaware of that event, then it called his true loyalty into question.
Ramprasad sighed. “I appreciate your desire to test me, Colonel, but I am fully aware that the Tok’ra have a temporary base on Kahsban since the base on Revanna was destroyed.”
Now, finally, Teal’c lowered his staff weapon. While Ramprasad could easily have learned of Revanna’s destruction from Kali — Osiris had gloated over it to the entirety of the summit that Daniel Jackson had infiltrated, after all — he could not know of the new temporary base on Kahsban. If the Goa’uld knew of the base, they would have attacked it, and Major Carter had visited her father on that world just one day ago.
Teal’c placed his ma’tok on the bar and then reached down to help Ramprasad to his feet.
“Thank you,” Ramprasad said, his voice now that of his human host.
“All right.” O’Neill moved toward the tavern door. “Daniel, stay with Rampart, here.”
The Tok’ra felt the need to correct O’Neill. “It’s Ramprasad.”
“Whatever. Carter, Teal’c, with me — let’s see if there are any more survivors.” As O’Neill opened the door, he added, “India’s in the tropics. Anyone wanna explain why Kali didn’t go to a world that’s more like that?”
As Teal’c guided Ramprasad onto one of the tavern chairs, the Tok’ra agent said, “Kali’s homeworld has a much more temperate climate, Colonel. She colonized Imphal because of its naquadah and trinium deposits. Those mines have long since been emptied, but this world also produces several plants that are useful trade items.”
O’Neill just stared at Ramprasad, and then Major Carter spoke. “Sir, you did ask.”
“I did, didn’t I? Remind me not to do that ever again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s go.”
Teal’c left Ramprasad to Daniel Jackson’s care and followed O’Neill and Major Carter back into the cold. They searched for another quarter of an hour, finding three more survivors. One was a man who had been protected by his wife; the man then hid under the woman’s corpse. The other survivors were two adolescents, one male, one female, who hid in Kali’s throne room. That room was located in a redoubt that had been constructed inside the face of a mountain. As with most Goa’uld throne rooms, it remained empty and unused as long as Kali was off-world.
They returned to the tavern with their charges in tow. O’Neill grabbed the radio that was clipped to his jacket. “Mazursky, report.”
“All’s quiet, sir, but — ”
After Major Mazursky’s hesitation went on for several seconds, O’Neill prompted her. “But what, Major?”
“Sir, the wind sounds wrong.”
“Sounds wrong?”
“I’m from San Francisco, Colonel, and I know what wind shifts sound like, and what they’re like when they’re obstructed and funneled. And it’s been weird here since we ringed back.”
“Have you sent the bodies back?”
“No, sir. Given that we’re dealing with invisible aliens, I thought it best not to dial home or use the GDOs until we knew for sure the Reetou weren’t here watching. It’s just a hunch — wasn’t worth breaking radio silence — but I — ”
“Major!” O’Neill interrupted. “For future reference, don’t explain your every move unless I specifically ask you to.” Glancing at Ramprasad, he added, “And sometimes not even then. Stay alert, we’ll be there in a few.” He let go of the radio. “Let’s move.”
They moved quickly to the rings in the same formation as before, with Ramprasad and the other three survivors between Major Carter and Daniel Jackson.
As soon as the rings placed them on the island, Teal’c felt a stabbing pain in his abdomen. Dimly, he registered Ramprasad react the same way.
“Carter!” O’Neill cried.
Teal’c struggled to straighten and activate his ma’tok. Though the pain caused tears to fill his eyes and obscure his vision, he did see Major Carter wield the T.E.R., revealing six Reetou on the island with them — obviously there was another cell on the world in addition to the one who had fired upon the Thakka.
Fighting through the agony, Teal’c raised his weapon and fired it at one of the Reetou. But the effort took all his strength, and he collapsed to the snowy ground even as his target did the same. Around him, he heard multiple reports of both P90 fire and Reetou energy weapons. Through the tears of pain that welled in his eyes, Teal’c saw Major Mazursky and two other members of SG-22 shoot two of the Reetou — one of whom managed to wound the fourth member of SG-22 before falling to its death. Major Carter was able to kill two of the Reetou with her T.E.R., while O’Neill shot another with his P90.
The moment O’Neill’s opponent fell dead, the pain was gone. Teal’c quickly leapt to his feet and surveyed the island.
The man who had survived the attack and one member of SG-22 were both lying on the ground, wounded. One of the SG-7 body bags was also badly ripped and burned, the corpse inside it further damaged.
Teal’c said, “There are no more Reetou, O’Neill.”
“Good. What the hell happened to the whole only-five-at-a-time thing?”
Ramprasad stared at O’Neill. “Is this another of your rhetorical queries, Colonel, or would you like an answer?”
O’Neill stared angrily at the Tok’ra for a moment. “Later. Daniel, dial home.”
Daniel Jackson, who had tried to protect the civilian survivors during the firefight, got to his feet and did as O’Neill instructed while Major Mazursky performed first aid on her subordinate. Major Carter was doing likewise on the survivor.
After completing the dialing sequence, the wormhole opened — but Teal’c noticed something odd about the way it did so.
“Something’s wrong,” Major Carter said.
Turning toward her, Teal’c asked, “Did you notice an unusual sound in the opening of the wormhole as well, Major Carter?”
“I did, yes.”
Ramprasad added, “As did I.”
O’Neill shook his head. “What is it with everything sounding funny today?” He pointed at Ramprasad. “Don’t answer that.”
“Sir, with your permission…?” Major Carter held up her T.E.R.
Shrugging, O’Neill said, “Sure.”
She aimed it at the chappa’ai, revealing several devices placed on it that were just as out of phase as the Reetou.
With a tone of some urgency, Ramprasad said, “Those are Reetou explosive devices. We must make haste!”
“Through the gate, now!” O’Neill yelled.
SG-22 and the body bags went through first, followed by the wounded survivors. Teal’c then followed Ramprasad through the chappa’ai, expecting the other three to follow right behind him.
But as his booted footfalls echoed on the metal ramp in Stargate Command, the wormhole suddenly deactivated.
From the control room, General Hammond’s voice came over the speaker. “Teal’c, where’s the rest of SG-1?”
“They were directly behind me, General Hammond.”
“Re-dial P3X-418,” the general said to Sergeant Harriman.
Teal’c moved down the ramp alongside Ramprasad, SG-22 (carrying the bodies) and the Imphal survivors crowding ahead of him, and waited impatiently for the dialing computer to do its work.
Eventually, Sergeant Harriman announced that the sixth chevron was encoded.
However, the seventh chevron did not lock and the wormhole did not engage.
General Hammond said, “Dial it again,” but Teal’c knew that that was a waste of time. The explosives on the chappa’ai had obviously gone off after Teal’c had gone through.
At best, O’Neill, Major Carter, and Daniel Jackson were trapped on Imphal.
At worst, they were dead.
CHAPTER THREE
Stargate Command
THE JAFFA once known as Durga had never been more honored than when the Mother Goddess appointed him to be her new First Prime and be given the grand title of the Thakka. There was no greater glory among any Jaffa, and the Thakka intended to prove his worth in the position.
It helped that his predecessor had become an incompetent fool. The last Jaffa to be known as the Thakka was once one of the finest warriors in the galaxy, but he had refused to acknowledge that he was getting too old for the position. He was nearing his two hundredth year when the forces of Anubis attacked the base at Cerador (though they only later learned that the ragtag collection of Jaffa with the marks of many different gods belonged to Anubis), and his stubbornness and growing weakness contributed to their losses. The old man died that day, along with far too many Jaffa.
When he was still merely a Jaffa in Kali’s service named Durga, he and another Jaffa — whose name he was now forbidden to even think — had privately wondered why the Mother Goddess had allowed the Thakka to remain in his position. Other gods allowed their First Primes to retire gracefully when age claimed their ability to lead warriors in battle. Yet the Thakka soldiered on, becoming less and less worthy of his title.
But Durga never spoke of this to any but his friend. His friend, however, spoke of it to many other Jaffa, saying that the Thakka was unworthy and that Kali had made a mistake allowing him to remain as First Prime.
His friend was executed, his prim’ta crushed in its pouch, his name stricken from all stories and records, never to be spoken or thought of again. None spoke ill of the Mother Goddess and lived to brag about it.
Soon after his friend’s death, Anubis attacked, and the old fool’s incompetence caught up to him. Durga was named the new Thakka, the golden circle of Kali etched on his forehead over the black tattoo that had been there.
Not long thereafter, Kali summoned him to her throneworld of Bhopal and informed him that the Reetou — who had already attacked several of the Mother Goddess’s worlds — would attack Imphal. Relishing the opportunity to strike a blow at this ancient enemy of the Goa’uld, the Thakka led a garrison through the chappa’ai and prepared for the Reetou.
His preparations were for naught. Even though his Jaffa were armed with weapons that could detect and destroy the Reetou, even though the Thakka and Ramprasad, the Mother Goddess’s representative on Imphal, had worked out a strategy that should have defeated the enemy, they were slaughtered. Worse, it wasn’t just his Jaffa and Ramprasad who were killed; they were Kali’s soldiers and servants — their job was to die for her. But the Kali Kula, the people who lived under Kali’s domain, were the Mother Goddess’s chosen, and his job as First Prime was to protect them. In that, he had failed for all of them were massacred.
It was the Reetou themselves who were to blame. They had been dogged strategists, always engaging in guerilla tactics in groups of five.
But a score of them were on Imphal, to the Thakka’s surprise. Never had they attacked in such numbers before. To be fair, never had they needed to, either, as the Reetou’s victories were many.
The Thakka took only two small moments of satisfaction from the battle. One was that the Reetou were also eliminated, as his Jaffa — with unexpected help from the Tau’ri — were able to kill almost all of the invaders. There was the one who shot at the Kula, whom the Thakka had saved, but that was the final one. It was even possible that the Tau’ri woman killed the last Reetou.
The other moment of satisfaction was that he was able to save at least one of the Kula. The Tau’ri woman may not have known that she was Kula, and the Thakka may have been allowing himself to be guided too much by her appearance, but he had the need to save someone.
Perhaps, because he had leaped in front of the Reetou weapon to save Captain Patel, Kali would forgive him. It was a slim hope, but if at least one of the Kula was saved then the Thakka may have redeemed himself. He had hoped to die in a state of grace.
So it came as rather a surprise to him to wake up in an unfamiliar place that was filled with people in strange clothing. He lay on a bed, his arms, legs, and neck all held in place by leather straps, rendering him immobile. Wires were attached to parts of his body, tethering him to odd devices that were not Goa’uld in design. His armor and robes had been removed, and he now wore only a flimsy cloth.
There were also other people in beds. He could only make out the features of one, but the Thakka recalled seeing him on Imphal.
“This — this is not the afterlife,” he muttered.
“No, it is not,” came a voice to his left.
The Thakka was able to turn his head enough to make out the person sitting next to the bed where he lay. He was a large man, and the Thakka could sense that he was Jaffa even before he noted the golden symbol on his forehead identifying him as a First Prime like the Thakka himself.
Then he recognized the symbol as being that of Apophis, which meant there was only one person this could be.
With a snarl, the Thakka said, “Shol’va! Why have you brought me here?”
“I have brought you nowhere,” the shol’va said calmly. “Captain Patel brought you through the chappa’ai so that you might receive medical attention.” Indicating the rest of the area with a nod, the traitor added, “In addition, we brought the remaining survivors of the Reetou attack here to be treated.”
Hope shone in the Thakka’s heart. “There were survivors?”
“Only three besides yourself.”
The Thakka let out a long breath. “That is good. If three more of the Kula survived, then perhaps Kali will forgive my failure.”
“How is it you have failed?”
Looking at the shol’va as if he were mad, the Thakka said, “Is it not obvious? The Mother Goddess instructed me to fight the Reetou cell that was invading Imphal. But there were at least four cells on the world, and we were overwhelmed.”
“Then the Goa’uld you serve was mistaken.”
“You speak blasphemy.”
“I speak no such thing.” The shol’va raised one of his eyebrows. “Were Kali truly a goddess as you claim, she would have known the strength of the Reetou. She did not.”
The Thakka opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again when he realized he had no response to that.
The voice of his friend, the one whose name he dared not even think, came back to him. “If Kali was truly the Mother Goddess, why does she not see that the Thakka is old and senile?”
And why did she not see that the Reetou had sent more forces than usual? The Mother Goddess had been caught off guard by enemy strategies before, but those were always from other Goa’uld — other gods. The Reetou, for all that they could do harm to symbiotes, were not divine. They should not have been able to fool the Mother Goddess.
He looked around at the place where he was now held prisoner. Humans of all sorts treated the Kali Kula of Imphal. Kali had once told him that only the Kula could help Kula, that those not under the benevolent protection of the Mother Goddess would never come to the aid of those who were.
Yet here were outsiders helping the Kula.
Again, the Thakka’s friend’s voice sounded in his mind, as it always did when doubts crept in. But now it was much harder to dismiss those doubts.
The shol’va kept talking. “You were unsuccessful in destroying all the Reetou on Imphal. In addition to the one who injured you, another group of five were present on the world and set explosives on the chappa’ai. Those explosives detonated before the rest of SG-1 could enter.”
“Then the rest of your team is dead,” the Thakka said simply.
“SG-1 has returned from certain death on numerous occasions. I must be sure that they are fallen, and if they are not, I must effect a rescue.”
“Why are you telling me this, shol’va?” the Thakka asked, though he knew the answer.
“You fought alongside Captain Patel against the Reetou. The Tau’ri have a saying: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
; The Thakka smiled. “And you wish to be my friend, do you, shol’va? You who blaspheme against the Mother Goddess?”
“The Reetou are a threat to Goa’uld, Jaffa, and Tau’ri alike, and they are very difficult to do battle against. It is in all of our best interests to work together.”
“Do you wish to fight the Reetou, shol’va, or rescue your murderous comrades? Oh yes,” he added quickly, “I’m quite aware of the exploits of your precious SG-1.”
“Then you are aware that we have killed many Goa’uld: Ra, Apophis, Heru’ur, Seth, Hathor, Cronu — ”
“Enough!” The Thakka turned away.
But the shol’va kept speaking. “If the Goa’uld are truly gods, how can so many have been killed by mere mortals?”
He turned back. “I said enough! I will assist you in searching for your teammates, in return for your aid in fighting the Reetou. I do not do this to help you, but rather in gratitude to Captain Patel. She is a true warrior.”
“Indeed.”
A voice came from the door. “Teal’c.”
The Thakka saw a Tau’ri who was as hairless as the shol’va. Captain Patel stood next to him.
Rising to speak to the man, the shol’va said, “Yes, General Hammond?”
“I’m still not entirely sold on your plan. We’ve already lost the better part of two SG teams. I don’t want to lose more.”
“I agree. That is why I believe the strategy of sending a small strike team of two Jaffa is a stronger one than sending in a large force of Tau’ri warriors.”
Patel said quickly, “Two Jaffa and at least one Tau’ri warrior. General, I’d like to request permission to accompany Teal’c on his mission. Dr. MacKenzie has cleared me to return to active duty — and I owe it to my team.”
Hammond looked at the shol’va. “Teal’c?”
“I would be honored to have Captain Patel accompany us.”
The Thakka finally spoke up. “As would I.”
“Your approval is not required, sir,” Hammond said tightly before turning back to his subordinates. “There’s still the question of how you’ll get to P3X-418 with its Stargate out of commission.”
STARGATE SG-1: Kali's Wrath (SG1-28) Page 3
