STARGATE SG-1: Kali's Wrath (SG1-28)

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STARGATE SG-1: Kali's Wrath (SG1-28) Page 16

by Keith R. A. DeCandido


  “Ready to launch, General,” Siler’s voice said over the intercom.

  “Launch the UAV.” Hammond then looked at Ferretti. “Colonel?”

  Ferretti blew out a breath. “We’re working on a plan, sir, based on the size of the island and the fact that there are only two Jaffa.”

  “Assuming,” Peruzzi added, “that they don’t ring more Jaffa in.”

  Grinning, Ferretti said, “Captain Peruzzi is the team cynic, sir.”

  “Your cynic raises a good point,” Hammond said dryly.

  “Yes, sir,” Ferretti said with a quick nod, “which is why Lieutenant Satterfield and Corporal Spencer are going over the telemetry with a fine-tooth comb.”

  Harriman interrupted. “Receiving UAV telemetry now.”

  They all went over to peer at the screen.

  “Still only two Jaffa at the gate,” Harriman added.

  Smiling at Peruzzi, Ferretti said, “See? Nothing to worry about.”

  Peruzzi just shot him a look.

  “Radio booster online,” Harriman said.

  Again, Hammond leaned into the mic. “This is General Hammond to any SGC personnel. Respond, please.”

  After a moment, a voice said, “This is O’Neill.”

  “Good to hear your voice, Colonel.”

  “Yours too, sir. I’m here with Carter, and we’ve got Teal’c, Patel, Thak, Jacob, and Bra’tac.”

  Ferretti and Hammond exchanged glances. Having the Tok’ra and the Jaffa resistance present on P3X-418 was unexpected.

  O’Neill continued: “It’s a regular party here. Patel was good enough to bring spare radios, so we can all talk to each other. The bad news is Daniel’s still Kali’s prisoner. She wants him to be her mouthpiece in peace talks with the Reetou.”

  “That’s unusual,” Hammond said.

  “Yeah, I thought so, too, sir, but she seems legit in wanting peace. The Reetou, not so much. According to Jacob and Bra’tac, they’re gonna use a bomb to blow up the negotiation — a bomb that won’t affect them.”

  Hammond frowned. “How is that possible?”

  “Something to do with their being out of phase — Carter could explain it, but with respect, sir, we really don’t have that kind of time. We’ve got us a plan to stop the Reetou from blowing up a bunch of innocent people, and also Daniel. We’ve also got a hand device that’ll keep Jacob, Bra’tac, and Teal’c from letting the Reetou turn their guts inside out.”

  “SG-17 is on standby if you need assistance,” Hammond said.

  Ferretti grinned and added, “Ready to pull your ass out of the fire again, Colonel.”

  “Then I take it the gate really is back in action?”

  “That’s right, Colonel,” Hammond said. “We assume Kali had it fixed.”

  Ferretti’s grin fell. “Right now, it’s guarded by two Jaffa.”

  “Think you can neutralize ‘em, Ferretti?” O’Neill asked.

  “Working on a plan right now.”

  “I figured. I need you to take out those two Jaffa, destroy the rings, and hold that island.”

  Frowning, Ferretti saw a really big hole in that plan. But before he could articulate it, the general beat him to it. “Colonel, the rings are the only way on and off that island. How will you get there?”

  “We’ve got us a Tok’ra cargo ship, General. But the Reetou came in through the gate, so if we destroy the rings it cuts off their only avenue of escape. We’re going to fix it so that the Reetou can’t set off their bomb, but also that we’re the only ones who get off-world. Which will be even easier if Ferretti’s holding the gate.”

  Looking at Hammond, Ferretti prompted, “General?”

  Hammond only mulled for half a second. “SG-17, you have a go.”

  Ferretti grinned. “Yes, sir. We’ll have that island within thirty minutes.”

  “You’d better, Louie, or I’ll have your ass,” O’Neill said over the radio, and Ferretti could just hear the colonel’s smirk.

  “Failure’s not in the budget, Jack. We’ll hold the line, you just get to the island.” Ferretti then looked at Peruzzi. “Let’s go, Major, we’ve got people to save.”

  There were five SGC personnel on that planet, plus two allies, and apparently some innocent civilians who had the bad luck to be the subjects of a megalomaniac — just like Skaara and the other folks on Abydos. Ferretti had no intention of letting them die if he could do anything about it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  P3X-418 — Jacob Carter/Selmak, the Thakka, and Captain Patel

  THE THAKKA led the Tok’ra and the Kula through the village toward the rings.

  The Kula — or, rather, Captain Patel — looked at him with concern. “You all right?”

  At that, the Thakka smiled. “I am pleased to see that you are concerned with my welfare, Ku — Captain, rather.”

  “And I am pleased to be called ‘Captain’,” she said with a smile right back at him.

  “To answer your question, it will be some time before I am ever able to say that I am ‘all right,’ as you put it. For starters, every instinct in my body cries out to kill this Tok’ra.”

  The Tok’ra simply grinned at that. “You’re welcome to try, Chuckles.”

  “Worry not — I accept that we now fight on the same side. But for all my life, I have been told that the Tok’ra are gods who have lost their souls. They are the sworn enemy of the Goa’uld, and therefore the sworn enemy of the Jaffa. That is a difficult instinct to overcome.”

  “Well, try to overcome it, will you please? The plan goes into the toilet if I have to kill you.”

  “You are confident, Tok’ra.” The Thakka tried to smile, but his heart wasn’t in it.

  Patel said, “I guess this is all a bit insane for you.”

  “Somewhat. I had a friend named Gan.” He shook his head with great dismay. “By uttering his name aloud, I am committing a capital crime, by the way. He spoke out against the Mother Goddess, wondering why she allowed my predecessor as the Thakka to stay in the position long after his ability to do so had deteriorated. He should have been allowed to retire, the way your comrade Bra’tac did. In speaking his mind, Gan was killed, his name struck from all records. The Mother Goddess forbade us from even thinking his name.”

  The Thakka let out a long breath as they moved past a residence. “But Gan was correct. My predecessor’s foolishness lead to many losses, and eventually to his death at the hands of Anubis’s forces. Kali was wrong — just as she was wrong about the Reetou. It is a very difficult thing to learn that your gods are not divine after all.”

  “I wish I could say I knew how you felt,” Patel said. “My grandparents were all devout Hindus, but my parents weren’t. In fact, my mother is a member of American Atheists, and my father mostly just doesn’t care one way or the other. So I was never raised with any kind of religion.”

  “Once, Captain, I would have pitied you for such an upbringing.” He laughed bitterly. “In fact, that time would have been only two days ago. Now, though, I envy you. You can never know the crushing disappointment I am feeling now.”

  Before Patel could answer him, the Tok’ra said, “Here we are.”

  Looking up, the Thakka saw that they were at the rings. The Tok’ra was moving to kneel down behind the console.

  “The Jaffa on the ha’tak will believe me to be their First Prime,” the Thakka said to Patel. “Leave your weapon slung behind your back.”

  Patel started to say something, then stopped. “Okay, I thought for sure you were going to make me give you my P90. Which wasn’t going to happen. And we already broke the fake shackles.”

  “Should my bluff fail, I would prefer you to be able to wield your weapon — but the bluff will definitely fail if you are holding it at the ready.”

  Nodding, Patel said, “Fair enough.”

  The Tok’ra rose from behind the console. “Okay, I’ve set up a feedback loop — the next time this thing gets used, the energy buildup won’t shut back down, and it’ll
overload. So get your butts up there, and we’ll see you at the gate.”

  “Of course.” The Thakka moved to stand within the rings, as did Patel.

  Colonel O’Neill had altered their part of the strategy after they heard from their fellow Tau’ri. Instead of taking the rings to the Tok’ra’s tel’tak, they were to go straight to the island with the chappa’ai, as it would be held by Tau’ri forces.

  “Good luck,” the Tok’ra said, and then the rings rose from the ground and sent them to the ha’tak.

  To the Thakka’s relief, the ring room was empty when they arrived.

  Patel said, “We should start at the engine room. The C-4 will do the most damage there.”

  Nodding, the Thakka moved toward the doorway. No one was coming down the corridor, and he gestured for Patel to follow.

  In a low voice, he said, “Many of the Mother Goddess’s Jaffa are on the surface to guard her personage, and also to search for Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter. Her lo’taur are all on the surface as well. There should only be a small crew on board.”

  They moved swiftly and silently. The Thakka found himself admiring Patel’s skills. Perhaps she wasn’t truly Kali Kula — perhaps, no one was — but he felt that she was definitely worthy of his protection, for all that she probably didn’t really need it.

  And then they turned a corner and saw two Jaffa.

  Patel already had her weapon behind her back, and the Thakka said, “Jaffa, I have escaped from the Tau’ri and taken one of their soldiers prisoner. Where is the Mother Goddess?”

  Both Jaffa aimed their ma’toks. “Shol’va!” they cried in unison and opened fire.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  P3X-418 — Major Carter and Master Bra’tac

  SAM AND Bra’tac moved silently but quickly through the trees back toward the mountain and the secret tunnel the Thaka had described. Well, Bra’tac moved silently; Sam did the best she could.

  Once they reached the area the Thakka had indicated on the map, Sam regarded the mountain face, covered as it was in brush and rocks, and tried to find the ingress point.

  “One of these days,” she said, “you need to teach me how to move like that.”

  Bra’tac actually smiled. “Your technique is quite adequate for a human of limited training.”

  Sam hesitated. “I was about to say that I wouldn’t call the Air Force Academy ‘limited,’ but I’ve also heard Teal’c talk about what you put him through. Then again, you guys can afford to train more extensively when you’ve got a symbiote to heal any injury.”

  “Meaning what?” Bra’tac sounded genuinely confused and not offended, which Sam had worried about the minute the words came out of her mouth.

  While continuing to search the rockface, Sam said, “Well, you can train harder and go through much more brutal exercises because you know that any injury you receive will heal quickly. We can’t do that — if I sprained an ankle or broke an arm during my Academy days, I’d be out of commission for months. If the same thing happens to Jaffa, they’re only down for a day at the most.”

  At that, Bra’tac looked thoughtful. “I had not considered that. Perhaps I have been too dismissive of the Tau’ri’s prowess.”

  Grinning, Sam said, “It’s okay. I mean, the larval symbiote is a part of you — I doubt you give it much thought day to day any more or less than you do a limb or an organ.” Then she saw something that seemed out of place: a rock that was a perfect sphere. Rock formations were rarely symmetrical or orderly, and for that reason a smooth, solid sphere was unlikely — and it was even more unlikely for such a formation to just happen to be near the secret door.

  She grabbed the rock and tried turning it, then pulling on it.

  The latter did the trick, as a bit of rock slid inward about twenty feet, revealing a dark tunnel.

  “Not bad,” Bra’tac said with a nod.

  Sam smiled as she switched on the flashlight attached to her P90. Cautiously, she entered, moving around the rock to slip into the tunnel itself.

  The light was swallowed by the darkness eventually, but Sam saw enough to know that it was a long tunnel carved out of the mountain rock. “Amazing. This must have been artificially created. The floor is almost completely flat, and there are no stalactites or stalagmites that would indicate that it’s a natural formation.” She glanced back at Bra’tac, who looked even less interested than the colonel usually did. “Sorry,” she added with a bashful smile.

  “There is nothing for which you need apologize. It is impressive to find as talented a warrior as you who also retains the intellectual curiosity of the scientist. I see why your father is so proud, and also why Teal’c speaks so highly of you.”

  “Really?” Sam blinked. “That’s — a surprise.”

  “That Teal’c would praise you or that your father is proud?”

  “Both.” She hesitated. “Well, okay, really only Teal’c. Three years ago, it would’ve been both, but Dad’s changed since he blended with Selmak. It’s like being a Tok’ra has brought out all his best qualities.”

  Bra’tac nodded. “Interesting. My dealings with the Tok’ra have been — limited. It is difficult to imagine a Goa’uld parasite making someone better.”

  “Well, it’s working for them.” Sam noted a curve in the tunnel ahead, and held up a hand. She moved alongside the cavern wall and peered around the curve with the flashlight. “Clear,” she said. “Anyhow, since he blended, Dad has been friendly, proud, solicitous, less cranky, less mopey — it’s been really nice.”

  “He was not like this when you were a child?”

  “No, no, no,” Sam said emphatically. “Before my Mom died, he was all gruff and bombast. If my brother or I did something wrong, we heard about it for weeks, but it was really rare that he gave us praise for doing something right.” She sighed. “After Mom died, he was still gruff, but a lot more stoic — and a lot more cranky. He barely spoke to either of us. The house got real quiet after that. The dinner table used to be when we’d all gab at each other. Even Dad, when he was home, would do most of his talking over supper. I’d talk about homework, Mark would talk about music or girls, Mom would talk about something she’d read, or we’d all talk about something on TV or a movie we saw. But after Mom died, the only sound was us eating.” She shook her head and turned to give the Jaffa a sheepish look. “Sorry. For some reason, I’ve been thinking about the past a lot today.”

  Bra’tac favored her with a gentle smile. “As I said, Major Carter, there is nothing for which you need to apologize.”

  As much to get the subject off her as anything, she asked, “How did you two wind up coming here together, anyhow?”

  “I was attempting to recruit Imhotep’s Jaffa to the rebellion when the Reetou attacked. I was the only survivor, and I tracked them to a world where they met with their Goa’uld benefactor. Your father had also arrived on that world based on intelligence provided by the Tok’ra who served with Kali.”

  Sam nodded. She hadn’t had time to fully compare notes with Dad, but she wasn’t surprised that Ramprasad’s intel had led to the Tok’ra taking action. She wondered if Dad had specifically requested the duty once Ramprasad reported that seventy-five percent of SG-1 had been trapped on one of Kali’s worlds, especially since his daughter was part of that percentage.

  They came to a doorway with an ornate handle. Sam glanced at Bra’tac, who nodded and got his staff weapon ready.

  Sam tried the handle. It moved down easily and unlatched the door, which slid open toward her.

  She cautiously moved through the doorway, P90 at the ready, but now with the flashlight switched off because the corridor into which the door led was well lit. She also recognized the corridor in question from their initial run through the stronghold looking for survivors, right after they found Ramprasad.

  Turning to Bra’tac, she pointed twice toward the direction that would take them to her erstwhile lab.

  As they got to the end of the corridor, Sam peered around the c
orner to see that four Jaffa were gathered at the base of the staircase that would take them up to the level where the lab was. The four were relaxed, speaking amongst themselves. Idly, Sam wondered what it was Jaffa talked about around the proverbial water cooler.

  She looked over at Bra’tac, who nodded and unholstered his zat.

  Following his lead, Sam did likewise.

  Then Bra’tac moved out to the center of the corridor, which struck Sam as being spectacularly tactically unsound.

  Normally, Bra’tac had a low, deep voice, but it got about an octave lower and several fathoms deeper as he shouted, “Jaffa, kree!”

  All four of Kali’s Jaffa snapped to attention at his commanding tone like a bunch of fourth-year cadets. Hell, Sam had to physically stop herself from straightening and putting her heels together.

  Then Bra’tac raised his zat and shot two of them. Sam did likewise half a second later to the other two.

  Walking slowly toward the four unconscious Jaffa, Bra’tac dryly said, “They are well trained.”

  Sam shook her head. She found herself reminded of the time her father was assigned to Andrews Air Force Base when she was a kid. Dad had been either a major or a lieutenant colonel then, she couldn’t recall, but he had been giving his daughter a tour of the base. He’d been showing her around, checking out the hangars and the planes and the mess hall and the barracks — and then they’d turned a corner and saw four airmen playing cards. One of them hadn’t shaved that morning.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t Dad anymore. He was an officer, chewing out four noncoms who had seriously screwed up. His back had gotten straighter, his voice had gotten deeper, just like Bra’tac’s just now.

  Even when Dad was chewing out Sam or her brother Mark, his eyebrows were always raised a bit, softening his face. But that day, with those SFs, the eyebrows were pointed straight downward, his eyes hardened.

  Dad’s eyebrows had stayed lowered like that pretty much exclusively after Mom’s death…

  Shaking herself out of her reverie, she and Bra’tac proceeded up the stairs.

 

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