Stargate SG1 - Roswell

by Sonny Whitelaw

  The monitor wasn't that detailed, but he knew New York. “West 86th Street, right on the Park.”

  At this height, coming in from the northwest, the buildings in this section of the city appeared largely intact, with most of Central Park and nearby structures damaged but standing. Nevertheless the scene was chaotic. Vehicles were piled up on every corner, some under chunks of masonry and shattered glass. Sections of the roads had been torn up, street lamps and traffic lights smashed into the ground, and two fire hydrants were spewing out massive gouts of water.

  Bodies were scattered everywhere. The few people showing any signs of life were either injured or immobilized by sheer terror. Daniel fought back the instinct to yell at Jack to stop and help survivors. Then he noticed two Al'Kesh were creeping across the tops of buildings between Park and 5th Avenue, randomly shooting energy weapons at anything and anyone.

  “Two blocks,” Daniel reported as the jumper eased along 86th low enough for him to see terrified faces peering at them through shattered windows. He turned his attention to the monitor, consciously trying not to grip the armrests of his seat. An made some infinitesimal adjustment to the settings and the signal jumped slightly. Damn. It looked as if Sam was moving.

  “Which building?” Jack asked.

  Learning forward, Daniel pointed. “On your right. Close to the tenth floor window. She's moving up, looks like she might be headed to the roof.” He hoped that was a good sign, that she'd maybe seen them.

  A shadow passed overhead. He dismissed it as one of the rolling plumes of oily smoke enveloping the city until something hit the jumper and knocked it sideways. Daniel looked up and out—and saw the Al'Kesh fire on them a second time. The impact slammed them into the stone wall of the building.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Sounds of disbelief followed Sam's declaration, and Cancer Man openly scoffed. “Lady, who do you take us for?” Commander Bennett's eyes narrowed and he stared at her. “I met an aviation engineer at the Naval Air Experimental Station in Philadelphia, Lieutenant Heinlein. He used to talk about stuff like that.”

  If Robert Heinlein had been at Philadelphia... Taking a guess, she said, “Nikola Tesla also worked there.” The recognition in the commander's eyes was enough for her to add, “Tesla didn't quite get it right, which is why he had problems with the USS Eldridge, but that ring, the Stargate sitting inside the Met—” she pointed through the window across Central Park—”uses the same principle to travel through space and time.”

  Stating it used the same principles that Tesla had been experimenting with was a considerable stretch of the truth, but this wasn't the time or place to be discussing the finer nuances of wormhole physics. “This invasion isn't from Mars, but it is from another planet. It's a dual attack, via the 'gate and also from space. We fought these aliens for nine years,” she continued. “And we won, so they can be defeated, but you have to do exactly as I tell you.”

  “You're not buying into this science fiction crap,” Cancer Man started, but the commander's steely gaze shut him up.

  “I've lost the connection,” Bennett told Sam, hanging up the telephone. He grabbed his cap from the desk and made for the door. “I want you to come with me. There's a radio transmitter on the tenth floor and we need to get this information to General Royall.”

  Behind her, Cancer Man was still spluttering when another series of explosions erupted in the area of LaGuardia Airport. Then the power went out.

  “What about power to the radio?” Sam called after Bennett, surprised that the power had lasted as long as it had and aware that half a dozen people were right behind her.

  The Naval officer cursed roundly and stopped at the entrance to the stairwell.

  “I can rig up a couple of car or truck batteries,” Sam offered.

  The young staff sergeant beside her was quick off the mark. “Sir, me and Abrahms can pull them from the staff cars.”

  “Don't touch mine, ya hear?” Cancer Man growled around a newly lit cigarette.

  “What, planning on making a run for it?” Commander Bennett turned to the sergeant. “Okay, Walker, take Harrison and Bakersfield with you and double time it.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Four of them, including young Sergeant Walker, vanished down the stairwell, with Cancer Man looking on nervously.

  “Where's Agent Peterson?” Bennett asked him.

  Sam assumed he was referring to Brylcreem because a startled expression appeared in Cancer Man's face, and, throwing the cigarette aside, he took off down the stairwell as another, distant explosion rumbled through the building.

  The commander gave a sound of disgust and then took the stairs up two at a time. Sam ignored the pounding in her head and followed him up three flights to emerge in a corridor lined with offices. The decor was considerably less shabby, but the level of undisguised panic was, if anything, heightened in the handful of people they encountered during their run to the radio room.

  They entered a wide foyer and Sam glanced out the window when Bennett pulled up short and swore. Hovering near the corner of the building was the massive form of an Al'kesh, it's Jaffa pilot clearly visible. The Al'kesh turned slightly, as if targeting something, and that's when Sam glanced down along the street and saw the jumper.

  Without thinking, she grabbed Bennett by the arm and yelled at him, “Get back!” but before the words were fully out of her mouth, a burst from one of the Al'kesh's cannons erupted. The impact on the force field around the jumper sent a blue electrical discharge through the air, and the jumper was knocked sideways into a nearby building. The stench of ozone hit them through the shattered windows just as a second and then third blast from the Al'Kesh knocked the jumper away from the building opposite—directly toward them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Teal'c leaped from the passenger seat, grabbed his P-90 and ran to the rear of the jumper. Upon opening the hatch, he saw through the dust that they had come to rest several feet inside the structure. Bringing his weapon to bear, he moved swiftly to the edge of the gaping hole in the side of the building, and aimed in the direction where the Al'kesh had been moments before. He knew exactly where to fire so that he might bring the Goa'uld ship down.

  While in the service of Apophis, Teal'c had piloted many Al'kesh on similar such missions. The nature of the armaments or methods of transport employed by the inhabitants of whatever planet they were invading mattered little to a Goa'uld, except when such technology posed a hindrance to them. It came as no surprise to Teal'c that the pilot of the Al'kesh appeared not to have recognized that the jumper was not from this world. And, as the jumper had not returned fire, it was deserving of no further attention once it had been dealt with.

  The pilot had instead set his sights on an alternative target, a large black car that was pulling out from beneath the building in which the jumper had come to a rest. The driver of the vehicle was depressing the horn in a futile attempt to clear a path through the many abandoned and wrecked vehicles along the road. It was both a foolish and fatal error, for the Al'kesh fired upon it, tearing it to pieces.

  Despite the actions of the Al'kesh pilot, the strategy that Teal'c had witnessed during the jumpers' approach to the city bore considerably more finesse than usually employed by the Goa'uld. It seemed most likely that Colonel Mitchell had indeed been captured by the Goa'uld after stepping through the Stargate in Egypt and had provided the information necessary for whichever Goa'uld was leading this attack. Although they had not voiced their thoughts on the matter, O'Neill and Jackson clearly believed the same.

  “Hey, Teal'c, good to see you guys.”

  Colonel Carter's voice drew his attention to the interior of the building in which the jumper had been thrown. Training his weapon on the Naval officer accompanying her, he replied, “Colonel Carter, I am pleased that you are well.” The bruises and smears of blood on her face he dismissed as a minor injury, for she moved with a familiar fluid motion that told him she was otherwise unharmed.

>   “No Asgard transport?” She stepped closer, and regarded the placement of the jumper with some interest.

  “Jack thought he'd try lateral parking for a change,” Daniel Jackson said, emerging.

  “Beats having to climb all those stairs,” O'Neill remarked as he, too, stepped rather more stiffly from the jumper.

  An item of furniture slipped from the ragged hole in the wall and plummeted to the ground beneath, while a gust of wind whipped the many papers scattered across the floor into the air, and sent them fluttering after it.

  “Making new friends, Carter?” O'Neill asked, eyeing her companion warily as he stepped over a window frame forced inside by the jumper's arrival.

  Colonel Carter turned to the officer, whose face was registering extreme disbelief. “Sir, this is Commander Bennett.”

  “The...radio. We have to get to the radio.” Commander Bennett's eyes took in O'Neill's stars and, evidently confused, he came to attention. “General.”

  “Teal'c,” O'Neill said, turning to him. “Is that Al'kesh likely to come snooping around the place?”

  “I do not believe so, O'Neill. Its purpose is to instill fear in any likely to resist, while the Jaffa secure the area at ground level.” Taking in the solid framework of the structure, he added, “This building could provide adequate cover until we acquire the necessary naquadah.”

  “Naquadah?” Colonel Carter asked.

  “I'll explain as we go. Who else is on this level?”

  “I think it's pretty much deserted except for the radio room.”

  O'Neill nodded. “Teal'c, you and Daniel check it out. I'm gonna move the jumper further inside, just in case.”

  “What about cloaking it?” Daniel Jackson suggested.

  “We need it to get out of here and we can camouflage it the old fashioned way. I'd sooner keep the force field enabled.”

  Several explosions erupted nearby. Flinching instinctively, Daniel Jackson nodded and replied, “Good point.”

  O'Neill then turned to Carter and studied her face for a moment. “NID do that to you?”

  “It looks worse than it is, sir.”

  “I'm sorry,” Commander Bennett said in repentant tones. “I should have... I should thrown that punch at Peterson myself.”

  Colonel Carter was dismissive. “If that was the best they can come up with, it's no surprise that the Cold War went on for as long as it did.”

  “Isn't gonna be a Cold War to worry about,” O'Neill said, tossing her a P-90. Colonel Carter caught and checked it in one fluid movement as O'Neill shouldered his own weapon. “If we don't get our hands on some naquadah.”

  Teal'c lead the way forward. Moving along the corridor, they discovered all the rooms, including the radio room, had been abandoned. He took in the view of Central Park with a frown. The Jaffa ground forces were being positioned in a disturbingly familiar pattern. By morning, the entire area would be a fully serviced Jaffa encampment.

  “God, there must be thousands of them.” Daniel Jackson came to stand beside him. “Ra—or whoever is running this—is not messing around.”

  “The enslavement of the Tau'ri is ambitious,” Teal'c agreed, his fists clenched in a wave of impotent anger. Unless this timeline could be restored, the future freedom of all Jaffa was imperiled. If they were forced to remain in 1947, he would do everything in his power to rectify that situation. “Once a foothold has been established around the Stargate, the invading force will give the inhabitants the option of succumbing before the entire planet is laid to waste.”

  “This soon after World War II, few nations have the capacity to put up much of a fight,” Daniel Jackson observed. “Russia, maybe, but if the Ha'taks start firing from space...” His voiced trailed off and he shook his head. “The timing for this invasion couldn't have been worse...or more of a coincidence.”

  “What do you mean, Daniel Jackson?”

  “Nothing, really. Just a thought. Getting through the 'gate isn't going to be easy. The Antarctic option may be the better one.”

  “Unless it has also been secured.”

  “Damn!” Daniel Jackson shook his head, his expression grim. “Cam would have known about the second 'gate, too.”

  “I, too, fear that Colonel Mitchell is the one providing the Jaffa with information.” Teal'c was silent for a moment. “He would not have easily succumbed.”

  “But you know better than most that he would have. Eventually.”

  Teal'c inclined his head, appreciating the bitter truth in his friend's words. And that he felt responsible. “With sufficient naquadah the jumper will be concealed and shielded.”

  Sighing heavily, Daniel Jackson said, “That's supposing we can actually get hold of the naquadah and An can get all systems operational.”

  “Staff weapons contain naquadah.” Teal'c turned from the window and headed out of the office, back along the corridor to the jumper. “And I am confident in Colonel Carter's abilities. With the help of the Asgard, she will prevail.”

  Falling in to step beside him, Daniel Jackson forced a smile. “You never lose your optimism, do you, Teal'c?”

  “It is not optimism, Daniel Jackson, merely the refusal to fail.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  It was one of the many, many attributes of military life to which Daniel had never entirely become accustomed: hurry up and wait. But until Sam and An could ascertain exactly how much naquadah they needed, there was no point drawing attention to themselves by going outside to ambush a troop of Jaffa in order to liberate their staff weapons. Besides, a daytime approach was out of the question. Even Jack thought the odds of four against forty thousand a little steep. Consequently, he'd decided on a single reconnaissance mission at 0200 to check out the approach path to the 'gate, with the plan to grab the necessary naquadah on the way back to the jumper.

  Earlier, along with Teal'c, Jack and Commander Gary Bennett, Daniel had explored the building to check for anyone left inside. Although it hadn't surprised him, it had shocked Bennett to find the place deserted. Presumably the jumper's sideways slam into the top floor of the building had precipitated the mass evacuation. Every floor was littered with smashed glass and upturned furniture. Here and there, a dust-covered limb or torso was visible beneath broken masonry. They'd found no one alive.

  Bennett's distress had been compounded when, in the under-ground parking lot, which had somehow remained relatively unscathed, he'd discovered three of his men lying dead on the ground, shot at close range. A fifth body nearby had, according to Bennett, been one of the agents who had interrogated Sam. Just outside, in the torn up street littered with the rubble of nearby buildings, they'd found the twisted hulk of a car that Bennett identified as belonging to the second agent. Perhaps the universe did have a perverse sense of justice. Apparently, in his single-minded haste to get away, the NID agent had unwittingly diverted the Al'kesh's attention from the jumper to himself, with gruesome results. Bennett had only been able to identify what remained of the body from a distinctive scar.

  They hadn't ventured further outside because it had still been light, or at least, as light as it could get with a sky darkened by countless fires now ravaging New York. Daniel had had to keep reminding himself that the broken gray post-Apocalyptic landscape would be restored once they'd gone back to 1908 and recovered Cam and Vala.

  Bennett, of course, had not been able to take solace in that thought. The commander's stoicism, honed and refined by the nightmare of WWII, had, like Daniel's slipped on several occasions during their search. This wasn't some foreign country; it was New York.

  Sam had already told Bennett they were from the future, and the nature of the invasion. Daniel hadn't been sure if Bennett was entirely convinced of their story, until the young naval officer stared outside at the ceaseless patrolling of the Al'kesh and Ha'taks. Squaring his shoulders, Bennett had taken a deep breath, turned to Jack and asked what his orders were.

  Daniel glanced at his watch. The fluorescent hands told him they had two ho
urs to go. The NID had, fortunately, employed enough standard batteries in various devices for Sam to rig up power to her laptop. The deserted offices were well provisioned and included quite luxurious living quarters. By 2100 hours they'd all managed to get in a solid eight hours sleep, a couple of decent meals and several quarts of NID coffee.

  Jack's ribs seemed to be giving him less trouble now and the bruising, which featured a remarkable array of colors, appeared to be fading. The injuries that Sam had received from Agents she'd named Brylcreem and Cancer Man were minor. And so far, Daniel was relieved to discover, he'd managed to stave off any infection in his leg.

  So why did he get the feeling that they were screwed?

  A crunch of glass underfoot announced the arrival of someone. “Hey.”

  He turned. “Hi, Sam. How's it going?”