Jmas Fan Fiction

Chapter 10

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say, “Behold!”
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion

 

  ~ Shakespeare

~*~

 

Narim waited at the Tollan stargate for the human contingent to arrive.

He had worked very hard to convince the council to allow him to help as much as he was. He understood quite well their reasons for not allowing ‘primitive’ civilizations access to Tollan technology but was disturbed by their hesitation in even providing transport for an attempted rescue of the team of humans who had helped their people so much.

With a sigh, Narim sat down on the grassy lawn beside the Stargate. He was concerned for his human friends, and, he had to admit, for Samantha most of all. Their last encounter had left him feeling more confused than ever about the enigmatic Earth woman. The ‘blending’ she had undergone was understandably an issue she had to face, but he still held great hope that somehow they could find a means to explore the feelings between them.

A self-deprecating laugh at his own illogical romanticism rang harshly even to his own ears.

“It is a foolish dream…” he whispered to himself.

“All dreams are foolish,” a wry voice spoke from behind him, “until they are realized.”

Narim recognized the voice without turning. “If I did not know you better, Omoc, I would consider that an idealistic statement.”

The elder Tollan commander took a seat beside Narim and smiled. “Perhaps it is the influence of your human friends?”

Narim smiled at the memory of their first encounter with SG1, an encounter laced with distrust and misunderstanding, but also one in which these particular humans had proven themselves to be more than they appeared. Willing, even, to defy their own laws to protect the Tollan refugees. Daniel Jackson in particular had impressed Omoc, a task Narim knew from personal experience to be highly daunting, with his openness and determination to do what he believed was right, even to the point of standing before weapons wielded by his own people.

“Perhaps,” Narim nodded, picking a blade of grass out of the ground to twine it around his fingers.

“You spoke well for them today,” Omoc offered dryly, a high compliment indeed. “The Council was impressed.”

Narim looked around the grassy fields before looking up at the older man. “Has the sky fallen? A compliment and an idealistic statement in the same day, Omoc?”

He shrugged with a barely concealed smile. “Advancing senility, perhaps?”

With a laugh, Narim shook his head. “Impossible, you would never allow it to.”

A raised eyebrow was all the response Narim received as the first chevron of the stargate engaged.

“They come.”

Omoc stood and reached down to assist Narim, “Then we shall see what we can do to reunite you with your young lady.”

Narim was spared the necessity of responding as the wormhole engaged and stabilized, but a sneaking glance at the older man revealed a smile Narim would almost call impish, were it on any other face but Omoc’s.

 

~*~

 

Opher was alive…

Beyond the shock of seeing O’Neill and Daniel stolen away from them, Antaeus could not help the feeling of elation coursing through him at being reunited with his father. There had been time for little more than a brief mind touch before Carter and Teal’c had rushed them all into the forest and toward the cave.

Antaeus could sense the shock in both the humans at the loss of their friends but could also read the determination in both to find them as soon as their duty to the Nox was carried out. Antaeus resolved that they would not do it alone.

Daniel and O’Neill could not be left to Klorel’s mercies for long. As they wound their way into the cavern, Antaeus quickly shared with Opher all that had happened since they had last seen one another. He was heartened to feel an answering determination that the humans deserved their help. There were twenty-seven of them now, including Carter and Teal’c; surely together they could devise some plan to rescue the others.

As they all settled themselves around the cave walls, Antaeus noted Carter pacing agitatedly. She was angry, Antaeus could feel that, and blaming herself for O’Neill and Daniel’s capture almost as strongly as Teal’c did.

“There was nothing you could have done,” came Opher’s surprising statement. “Klorel wanted them and would have gotten them whether they had been the ones to come to us or not. He had several contingencies in place.”

Carter stopped pacing and looked directly into Opher’s eyes. “Do you know why?”

Lya answered, “Hate.”

Opher nodded confirmation. “Even with the clouding effects of Klorel’s weapon, I could feel it. His hate is strong, and I believe the power drives him insane.”

Teal’c nodded in deep understanding and Antaeus could only guess that the former jaffa had a unique perspective on how it could happen. Even in their isolation, the Nox knew of the ways of the goa’uld. The only difference now was they had the echoes of Klorel’s evil to give the concept substance. And the lives of two who had suffered much for their sake as incentive to put aside the abstract philosophy of the past and find some way to help the humans and free their world.

All around the cave, Nox heads nodded agreement as he, Opher and Lya shared all they had been through since Klorel had brought chaos to their world.

They would do whatever was necessary to stop him.

 

~*~

 

He had them.

The objects of his deepest hate stood before him. Shoulder to shoulder they were so arrogantly defiant despite their bedraggled appearance Klorel wanted nothing more at that moment than to, just once, burn the looks off their faces with a staff weapon, but he had pressing questions to ask first - and that would require relocation.

With a nod to the jaffa holding O’Neill and Daniel Jackson, Klorel activated the transport rings once again.

From the moment he had landed on this world, Klorel had wanted to possess the sky city and all its wonders. His jaffa had been preparing it since the last of the Nox had been rounded up and imprisoned. Now all was ready. The device had been transported and installed into the city’s power supply, assuring Klorel of uninterrupted control and utter safety against attack. This world was his, the Nox were his, O’Neill and Daniel Jackson were his, and he was sure the shol’va and the female could do nothing to stop him now. No one could.

As they materialized in the grand meeting hall of the Nox sky city, Klorel sighed deeply in satisfaction. One entire wall of the hall was open to the atmosphere, capable of being shielded against the elements but open at the moment. The room itself was rather disgustingly Nox-like, containing many plants and ornamented with carved balustrades that stretched above them to meet at the center of the high ceilings. Klorel had found a way to put them to good use.

With a nod, the jaffa pushed the obstinate humans to the shackles already imbedded into the wooden beams. In short order, O’Neill and Daniel Jackson were stripped of their jackets and securely anchored. Klorel dismissed the jaffa with a nod. This moment was his and his alone.

Klorel approached Daniel Jackson, taking the young human’s chin in

his fist and studying the defiant glare, noting how ill the human appeared. Perhaps his first attempt at killing the man had come close to succeeding after all.

“The Nox were able to heal you?”

Expectedly there was no answer except for the continued sullen glare he knew so well and hated so deeply. Klorel tightened his grip, enjoying the wince of pain the action elicited.

“They retain some of their abilities?”

Nothing.

Klorel threw off his grip on Daniel Jackson and moved toward O’Neill.

“Where did you hide on the surface?”

The expression matched Daniel Jackson’s perfectly; the two really were mirrors of one another in stubbornness. Klorel strolled back to stand before Daniel Jackson again, but kept his eyes on O’Neill.

“Why does this one still live?”

O’Neill’s gaze spoke much of abiding hatred but contained no answers.

With no word of warning, Klorel lashed out with a strong backhand against Daniel Jackson’s cheek, drawing blood as his ring scraped along the flesh. The young human made a small sound of pain, even as his lips compressed to hold it in. Klorel had been watching O’Neill at the moment of impact, noting the sympathetic wince at the other man’s pain. Even now, O’Neill’s eyes watered and his muscles contracted as if he had been the one struck.

Interesting.

Most interesting.

Perhaps he would not utilize the device’s new-found purpose just yet. This unexpected development held promise - and there was no hurry.

Taking a slow step forward to face Daniel Jackson again, Klorel smiled.

There was no hurry at all.

 

~*~

 

Waiting was most frustrating, yet Teal’c realized the Nox needed rest. They had plotted until well after nightfall while some of the Nox had slipped away to the ha’tak to return with the unwelcome news that Klorel had moved himself and his prisoners to the Nox city. What had been a nearly hopeless plan had, in Teal’c’s estimation, immediately become a nearly impossible one. But the Nox believed otherwise, and Teal’c had slowly come to agree as they explained to him precisely how the situation had been altered in their favor. They could get to the city without relying on any technological means at all, and the Nox familiarity with the infrastructure was also a distinct advantage Klorel could not have foreseen in his haste to position himself on high as conqueror of the Nox world. Klorel’s own arrogance would - with careful planning and much good fortune - contribute to his defeat.

They were twenty-seven against perhaps a hundred of Klorel’s jaffa on the ha’tak and in the city itself. Teal’c hoped, as did the Nox, that if they could take the city and contain Klorel, the jaffa would accept the chance at freedom and not continue battle.

Once they arrived in the city, their plan would be threefold: to shut down Klorel’s device, to find O’Neill and Daniel Jackson, and to free the remainder of the Nox imprisoned there.

Major Carter had also been dubious at first, but several of the Nox freed from the holding pen had explained how the city’s power source worked. Disruption of the energy supply would be a vital point in their plan to bring down the city.

Literally.

Teal’c became aware of Major Carter’s approach, had expected her to come. Her concern was as great as his own though she endeavored to conceal it.

“Think we’ll be able to do this?”

Teal’c allowed a half nod. “It is a bold plan. But yes, I think there is a strong chance we can succeed.”

Major Carter nodded in return, smiling as she looked upon the resting Nox. “I know. I want to believe it, I just….”

“You are concerned for O’Neill and Daniel Jackson.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “If Klorel separates them or, God forbid, figures out what’s going on with them…”

Teal’c nodded grimly. The thought had occurred to him more than once in the past few hours. If Klorel discovered the truth behind Daniel Jackson’s current state of being, Teal’c had no doubt there would be no limit to what he would put O’Neill and Daniel Jackson through. Teal’c knew better than any of them exactly how far the goa’uld could extend their games of vengeance.

And Klorel, as they had already seen, possessed a surfeit of the worst qualities his species had to offer. In fact, Teal’c was beginning to suspect Klorel was, psychologically if not physiologically, insane.

 

 

Chapter 11

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

 

~Longfellow

~*~

 

 

George Hammond watched the starfield slip by the observation port of the Tollan spacecraft in awe. In all his years in the Air Force, passed by for the early space program because he had been just a few months short of his promotion, he had never expected to actually see this for himself. What SG1 seemed to take as a matter of course, George found fascinating in its sheer beauty.

‘Really need to get onto SG1 for better descriptions in their reports…’

He almost smiled at his own joke before the reality behind his presence on the craft and on this mission settled back onto his shoulders with an almost tangible weight.

The President had been adamant, SG1 could not be compromised, their alliances could not be endangered. Whatever situation existed on the Nox world, George Hammond was acting Ambassador from Earth and was going to be counted on - and no doubt liable - for any diplomatic incidents that might exist, or be caused by, their presence.

Hammond felt a hand on his shoulder, knew who it was without looking.

“How in the hell do you get used to it, Jake?”

His old friend smiled as he turned to look out the port as well. “You don’t,” Jacob admitted. “You put it aside to get the job done, but…it never gets old. Selmak’s been around a whole lot longer than the both of us put together. It never gets old for anyone privileged enough to be here - living it.”

George had to smile at the light in Jacob’s eyes. Two years ago he had seen that light dying, had in fact seen it slipping away bit by bit over the years following his wife’s accident. It had nearly cost him both his children, but Jacob had struggled back from the brink of loss to regain an interest in life. Trouble was that interest had too often focused itself in his job and the advancement of his daughter’s career. The largest bone of contention between Jacob and Sam Carter had always revolved around his continual interference in her professional life: always pulling strings, arranging that crucial interview, opening doors his daughter usually had no idea had been cracked ahead of time on her behalf. Usually. But there had been hell to pay on the occasions she had figured it out.

When the cancer had shown up Jacob had opened one final door, thinking - George was sure - to give Sam the dream Jacob had always believed she wanted. It had all blown up between them until George had been sure his dearest friend would die without ever putting things right, without knowing NASA could never hold the same allure as the Stargate.

Selmak had changed all that. The symbiote’s former host dying had been a well-timed stroke of fate for Jacob Carter. The Tok’ra had preserved a valued comrade and so had they, and both had benefited from the blending. Despite his continued misgivings concerning the Tok’ra, George knew Jacob was the best ally Earth had among the sometimes elitist group. But underneath it all, George was just glad his friend was still around, especially at times like this.

“We’ll get them back, Jake....” He was surprised by his own hesitant tone, glad it was only his old friend around to hear it.

For all his efforts, George could not think of this as just another mission. Those were his people out there, people under his command, but it was more than that. They were more than that.

Jacob was nodding, his own eyes locked on the stars passing by so swiftly. “Damn right we will, George. Damn right we will.”

 

~*~

 

The boy watched from the shadows of the bower along the rear wall of the Place of Dreams. The vast room had always been a place of safety, harmony and learning.

Now it was a nightmare.

The two human men hung from chains driven deeply into the living walls, their pain traversing through the cold metal and into the spirit of the Place - every cruel assault by the goa’uld altering the energy and tainting the peace of a thousand years.

The boy’s father had explained it all, an explanation full of metaphysical reasoning at which his mother had simply smiled. Her advice had been far more welcome - enjoy it. And he had. Every trip to the City found him begging to revisit the ancient room, more out of playful formality than need - his parents always came. Now his parents were gone as well - separated from him on the planet - and he had slipped away from the guards who had brought him here to hide in the only place that equaled the security of his family.

But it was no longer so.

The goa’uld Klorel had intruded here as well, robbing the boy of the dream of safety and bringing his alien cruelty to this most sacred of Nox places. The very walls seemed to weep in sympathy for the two humans now at the nonexistent mercy of the creature who was hurting them so terribly. They were dying. The boy was not sure how he knew, but he was certain of it. The younger barely clung to a thread, a thread held by the older who nearly shone with stubborn refusal to yield. The boy wondered if the two were brothers, the bond was so close, but knew they were not.

The demon - and the boy no longer had difficulty referring to Klorel as such - tormented the younger man ruthlessly; Daniel, he had heard the demon call him Daniel. The demon seemed to take great pleasure from the pain exhibited by both. The older human, Jack, the boy recalled from another time and place. Older, greyer, more open than he had been before - but the same man the boy remembered as larger than life. The other had been there then, but the boy had not remembered him so clearly as O'Neill and the woman who had accompanied them.

The boy also recalled naively wishing to meet a goa’uld. He had done so, and experienced his first brush with death. The experience had prepared him for this second meeting and he had run at the first opportunity. He had nowhere else to run now, could only remain hidden and helplessly watch the demon’s evil destroy the Place and the two good men tied to it in a way the original builders had never intended.

Again and again, the dark goa’uld struck Daniel, drawing blood - so much blood - until it seemed to the boy that the man had begun to wish for death. But O’Neill would not allow it. Through the disharmony of the Place the boy could feel the strength of the older man’s denial, the clear denial of anything less than life. It had taken a long time, but Daniel had embraced the denial and made it his own, fighting to survive because it was what the other man wanted and needed - not for himself.

As darkness approached the demon had grown weary of his game, or perhaps the Place had finally penetrated the dark madness, exerting its disjointed energy to drive the cruelty away from itself so that it might heal. For whatever reason, the demon had gone away with a laughing promise to return soon. The boy had no doubt of it, but wondered if he would be gone long enough for the humans to escape and wondered if he would have the opportunity to help.

 

~*~

 

There had only been pain and fire, ribbons of scorching heat running the length of his body with every new assault of Klorel’s hand - or the leather strap that had appeared at some point Daniel would never be sure of. Pain upon pain until the actual blows were barely felt anymore, just the echoes they inspired lancing through Daniel’s nerves and back again to his center - and thus to Jack.

That was the hardest thing of all.

The reverberation of his own pain, so easily seen in the reactions of Jack’s body, drew Daniel outward. More than once he had been tempted him to let go of his tenuous hold to his own form and follow back along the connection between them to that part of himself that was hurting Jack – and snap it.

If he could let go, Jack would not hurt any more.

But Jack had other ideas. He had held on and made Daniel do the same. Though they were separate, chained ten feet apart from one another at nearly perfect right angles that had allowed Klorel to watch them both at once, the driving force of Jack’s will came through clearly - and would not let Daniel quit. They had not shared a word since coming to this place. Words would only have served Klorel’s purpose, given their tormentor more insight to twist into a weapon against them, and even if they had there were no words adequate to the level of gratitude he felt. Jack would not leave him alone - and would not let him go.

So Daniel stayed – for Jack.

But it was hard.

So damn hard.

Daniel tried to straighten his back, felt the shadows of pain reawaken and stilled again. His friend was asleep – or unconscious – where he hung from his chains. Whatever state he was in, Daniel knew it was far preferable to being awake, and he had no desire to rouse Jack. The pain would begin again all too soon; Klorel had promised. And Daniel had no doubt of the veracity of the vow. Klorel would soon return, and the pain would begin again.

Daniel had tapped the last dregs of the stubborn core he had developed over the years to get him through so much. Things mostly resulting from the death his parents. The constant readjustment his childhood had so suddenly become - the alteration from what had always been to what would never be again and the relearning of trust that had been broken right before his eyes; the trust every child possesses in the immortal ‘forever’ of family.

He had never quite gotten the trust back; not even with his mentor, Doctor Jordan, though the older man’s unwavering support had come close. But then he had found more and more evidence to give weight to his unpopular theories, and his stubbornness had shifted to a new direction. A direction that would not let him conceal what he knew was the truth - his entire profession was built on a foundation of lies. He had walked away from his burgeoning academic family, by way of some damn difficult and public detours in order to protect them - and dropped him, almost literally, straight into the Stargate Project.

And found a new family. A family he would never have conceived in his wildest imaginings. A family comprised of the direct descendants of the history he had lived and breathed all his life. Ancient Egypt in microcosm on a planet thousands of light-years from Earth. On Abydos, Daniel had found acceptance, purpose, living history that should have been enough to keep him busy all his life. It was enough, more than enough - until he found the cartouche room, and divined its purpose. Until he made the decision to unbury the Abydos gate. Until the day came that the past revisited him in the person of Jack O’Neill - and Apophis.

He would have lost the trust again then - if not for Jack. In the midst of all the confusion Daniel had found one truth that could not be shaken. Jack was there and would be there regardless of what happened - he had given his word. And even though Jack could not keep his promise to save Sha’re, Daniel knew his friend had tried, and - beyond the trying - had been there through the long search which had ended in a way none of them could ever have expected.

Standing on the ramp following the return from Chulak, they had all been so innocent – even Jack. It was not a term Daniel generally associated with the worldly-wise colonel, but it was true. They had been so naive concerning the encompassing evil of the goa’uld and of the scope of the infection they had wrought throughout the galaxy for millennia, of the depth of horror life could become under their influence. In hindsight, Daniel knew it would have become a living nightmare for him, if not for his new family.

He had kept faith with the team, kept faith with Jack.

Despite some shaky moments over the past months they had gotten it back on that last mission, the indefinable ‘it’ that had carried them through four years of hell and worse. And not just he and Jack. All of them were regrouping around each other in a way Daniel had begun to fear was gone forever after the big mess with Maybourne and the bigger mess with Alar of Euronda.

Daniel felt as if he had recently come out of the tunnel his life had been for so long - a lot sadder and a lot wiser but stronger too. But it was a strength weighted in the solid realities he had come to count on - Jack, the team, and the friendships so akin to family as to be indistinguishable. For all the lessons life had shown him, Daniel still needed that. He could make it on his own, he knew that all too well, but doing so amidst loneliness and isolation would be entirely his own choice.

He chose not to.

“Good call….”

Jack’s voice interrupted his deep thoughts then, a voice as strained as his own though for different reasons; Klorel had not so much as touched Jack.

‘Damn you, sonofabitch…’

Even through the haze of his own pain Daniel clearly remembered hearing Klorel’s death in Jack’s voice, felt the cold rage slipping through from Jack despite all his friend’s efforts to keep it inside. It had been much more than a promise. Klorel was still standing, but if the moment ever arrived where Jack had the use of his hands – the goa’uld would die. Daniel had no doubt of it.

Now he just needed to figure out if he cared....

 

~*~

 

They were in so much trouble....

Jack could see the rage in Klorel’s eyes, thought it strange how something so cold could burn like fire with every glance - when he had a moment to think coherently at all. But now or later, and probably more than once, Klorel wanted to watch Daniel die.

Jack was sure Klorel suspected something of what was going on between them; in fact, he was almost sure it was the only thing keeping them alive. As long as it amused the goa’uld to watch them both suffer for the price of one beating, they would be....

‘Hell, I almost said safe....’

Safe had been a distant dream from the moment the rings had closed around them and carried them into the presence of sheer hate. Klorel hated them, every move, every word confirmed it with ineffable finality. The hate was in control now, and it was far more dangerous than the snake called Klorel. Even the worst goa’uld it had been their displeasure to know had hated coldly, always with the detachment of their innate sense of superiority.

This though....

This was fire, rage barely held in check and power gone the way of madness with no looking back. Klorel wanted to stomp them into little tiny bits and only his interest in the current game was keeping them alive.

The game was ‘let’s hurt Daniel’, and Klorel was getting too damn good at it.

It had started out hard and barely let up through the long afternoon. When the sun had set, Klorel had left them alone with a sickly smile and a promise to return before they had time to miss him. Jack had not even been able to give voice to the obvious rejoinder that had reflexively popped into his mind.

Daniel had ‘heard’ it though - or felt it - or whatever it was they were doing.

‘God, Daniel...’

The bastard had gone all out for maximum effect with the least energy expended. Quick, sharp blows meant to hurt immediately, but - thankfully? - not cause permanent damage. Jack knew he had let too much slip with the first few blows but had been unable to brace against the echoing assault in time to keep Klorel from noticing.

He had barely managed not to vocalize the resonant echoes of the pain Daniel tried so hard to suppress. Throughout the day, Daniel had barely made a sound beyond involuntary gasps when Klorel struck before he had a chance to brace against it. Jack had always known Daniel was tough where it counted, deep down, had come to understand it even more intimately over the past few days, but this - was so much more than he had ever suspected. Willfulness, stubbornness, mulishness barely began to cover it. Daniel would hold it all back to keep from giving Klorel the satisfaction of getting a response.

The only time Daniel had made a sound was after Jack had finally broken down and let go of every pent-up curse he had held back through the day when Klorel had brought out a leather cord. The goa’uld had struck Daniel across the face, drawing blood in a slicing blow that had brought Daniel up out of the distant place he had taken himself to in order to deal with what was happening. Jack had felt that place, felt himself associated with it, and had almost managed to join Daniel there when Klorel had upped the ante.

There was no rest from that point onward. Strip after strip of Daniel’s shirt and skin had been sliced away until Daniel hung limply, hurting so deep and trying, Jack could feel it so clearly, to cut himself off from Jack to spare him the pain.

Frustration had transmuted into rage, and Jack had projected every ounce of his energy into the head bowed so stubbornly away and refusing to even look at him. Daniel would fight until he dropped, Jack was sure of it - but not at the cost of inflicting pain on his friends, on Jack. Daniel was willing to let go, to die even, if it would spare Jack.

‘Like hell, my friend...’

Two could definitely play the stubborn hand, and Jack was way beyond practiced at the fine art of hanging on by the skin of his teeth. He had pushed and prodded against Daniel’s walls, as relentless in his own personal pursuit as Klorel was in his. At first there had been nothing, not even a glimmer to tell him Daniel was even still in there. If not for the involuntary flinching with each of Klorel’s strokes, Jack would have thought Daniel was unconscious - or dead.

Finally, the door had opened, revealing a haze of unfocused pain Jack could tell Daniel was barely able to control. With that silent implied invitation, Jack had dived in. He knew his control was sloppy at best, that the Nox had barely given him a foothold into traipsing around in Daniel’s soul, but what he lacked in finesse he made up for with enthusiasm and the deep love and caring he felt for his friend.

‘Love? Yeah, I can live with that...’

They had been through so much together, highs and lows that no one should ever have to face about themselves or the people they called friends. But they had made it. Would keep making it as long as they remembered to lean on each other. The force of that realization pushed him through the last of Daniel’s sullen refusal until he felt the connection ‘click’ and they were together in a quiet place that no longer acknowledged Klorel.

Jack supposed it was a form of hypnosis, just with an SG1 twist.

‘Same way we do everything, hey, buddy?’

Daniel’s head nodded, once, and Jack could almost swear he saw a smile crease the weary face beneath the bruises and blood that almost made his friend unrecognizable to him. Most of Daniel was covered in blood, clothes pants, the dusty brown boots the Nox had given him. Jack could feel spots of it drying on his face.

Klorel was so far over the edge, Jack was sure even Apophis would not be able to bring him back and Daniel was paying the first price on his power-mad agenda. Jack hoped like hell Teal’c and Carter were working on some kind of plan, something quick, because otherwise he and Daniel were going to get very intimately acquainted with death, life and the particular torture that was a sarcophagus.

Again.

 

 

Chapter 12

It matters not how strait the gate,
   How charged with punishments the scroll;
I am the master of my fate:
   I am the captain of my soul.

 ~ W. E. Henley

~*~

 

 

“You have got to be kidding me...”

A dozen sets of nauseatingly knowing and tolerant Nox eyes turned to regard Sam.

‘Oh, shit, that’s all I need…’

Sam had spent the night in a flurry of planning sessions with various members of the rescued Nox, working out the schematics of the power plant and the city itself. They had drawn so many maps on the walls of the cave with bits of charred wood from the campfire Sam had rather exhaustedly giggled that Daniel would someday be studying them. The mention of one of their missing friends had sobered them all, and served to strengthen the collective resolve twenty-five Nox, an Air Force major and a reformed jaffa could muster. Which was a lot.

But this?

“I am not flying to the city underneath a glorified hummingbird.”

The Fenri were actually more insectoid than ornithological, and definitely could be considered huge for whichever genus they might come close to on Earth, but they looked way too much like refugees from a ‘B’ monster movie for Sam’s comfort.

‘Bugs - the sequel.’

An involuntary shiver inspired by too many covert matinees rippled down Sam’s spine and she forced herself to study the Fenri Lya had called into a clearing near the cave. On their last visit all Sam had seen was the disruption of air caused by the wingbeats of the creatures to even begin to gauge their size. Her estimate had been way off the mark; these things were the size of a hang glider, wings spanning at least ten feet. The bugs themselves were almost that long - thin bodied, almost gracefully put together underneath a fine down of furry golden hair that reminded Sam of a bumblebee.

‘With teeth, mustn’t forget those…’

The rounded ‘snout’ of the Fenri ended in an extremely impressive display of jagged teeth in a mouth that seemed almost to be grinning at her discomfiture.

With a heavy sigh, Sam moved to stand near Lya, putting aside her gut reaction to study the admittedly strong and sturdy looking creature. She had to admit that everything she knew about aerodynamics told her the Fenri could probably carry a person easily.

‘Off to dinner?’

“The Fenri are not carnivorous,” Lay offered apologetically.

Sam realized she was not even startled anymore by the implication her thoughts were being ‘heard.’ She supposed it was a good thing, maybe even a wonderful thing she hoped she and Daniel would have a chance to debate into the wee hours of many long nights in the future.

Lya’s eyes softened in sympathy and a brief wave of comfort and determination swept over Sam. With a grateful nod, Sam accepted the gesture. Maybe those talks would not be so long after all.

 

~*~

 

He wanted them dead.

Yet he did not.

O’Neill and Daniel Jackson had to pay for what they had done; Klorel wanted them to pay. But on some level still able to reason he knew he was wasting his time. The humans would never falter and grant him the thing he wanted most - their souls.

Their obstinate reliance on one another was sickening, yet also intriguing. But despite his fascination with the effects his device had wrought between the two he hated most in the galaxy, Klorel knew he should kill them now and be done with it.

He needed to complete his plan to subjugate the Nox and move on to the next world he wanted so badly he could taste it.

Tollana.

The hosts of his humiliation.

He should kill the humans and move on; there were so many plans yet to carry out. He should get on with the plan….

But, no, he needed a fresh burst of energy - Nox energy.

Then if the despised pair did not bow before him, perhaps he would absorb them as well.

Yes.

Klorel turned from his contemplation of the Nox sunset and instructed the jaffa at the door to bring him one of the prisoners from the lower levels.

Moving into the corridor Klorel laughed aloud, noticing the looks of fear the jaffa cast in his direction. The fools were more frightened than ever of him.

It was good.

So very good.

O’Neill and Daniel Jackson might take a bit longer, but soon - he just knew it - he would see the same terror in their eyes.

He had to.

 

~*~

 

The entire trip had been a dream come true for a normally Earth-bound Air Force physician who usually only got to experience this sort of thing via tales recounted by SG teams after the fact - usually SG1 and usually as guests in her infirmary following the too often very messy consequences of their missions. Or at her mountain retreat during too infrequent downtime when they all needed a dose of normalcy to balance the surreal reality of life out ‘here.’

Unlike Sam, Janet had never even dreamed of the space program, never thought beyond the strictures of her two blended professions to encompass all the things she had been exposed to - and been expected to deal with - since coming to the SGC.

Alien retroviruses - piece of cake. Goa’uld killing ‘machines’ that would make germ warfare look like a walk in the park - Fraiser’s your girl. Dissecting parasitical snakes that should have been dead thousands of years before - par for the course. The list went on and on, and the more she thought about it, the more Janet knew she wouldn’t trade her position with the SGC for any other tour of duty available to her.

For all the heartache she was either dealt or had to deal out, she was good at what she did. Janet knew there weren’t a lot of doctors in the Air Force - or anywhere else for that matter - who could handle the job, or the people under her care, nearly so well.

‘And now look where you are…’

Janet scanned the cabin to assess the ‘team.’

A Tok’ra who happened to be the father of her best friend, a man now caught between two worlds and two duties: the duty of a father and the duty of his symbiote’s cause.

Two Tollan who had once almost died in the wake of a volcanic eruption and been singularly ungrateful to be rescued by SG1. Despite the ingratitude, SG1 - most overtly Doctor Jackson - had put it all on the literal firing line to get them safely away from Maybourne.

Feretti - who had been around longer than she had and possessed an almost single-minded devotion to Colonel O’Neill and Doctor Jackson. Janet had heard many tales of the first mission to Abydos, most of them revolving around what amounted to hero worship of O’Neill and hard-earned respect for an unexpected hero in the person of Daniel Jackson.

Griff and Pierce who had been almost as determined to find Doctor Jackson as the colonel when their errant archaeologist had been captured by an Unas and had been every bit as glad to retrieve their missing friend as the rest of them despite their newness to the program, the personnel, and the duty. Both men had taken the time to get to know the team after that rescue and had fallen under the spell of SG1 just as surely as they all had.

General Hammond, unintentional patriarch of them all. Janet almost grinned at the comparison, but it was so true. She knew Hammond had been spinning down to retirement after a long and successful career, would already have been writing memoirs if it had not been for an unexpected and most unwelcome visit from Apophis; a visit that had brought with it the reality of the dangers lurking beyond their comprehension but not beyond the range of possibility. A threat none of them could have imagined or ever hoped to be prepared for that had brought Colonel O’Neill out of retirement and Daniel Jackson back to Earth after a year of being believed dead on a distant world. Despite his best efforts, Hammond had grown to know them all, care about them, and had grown into the duty as if he had been born to it. There was no one else any of them would trust to be the firm but fair frontline in this most vital of commands.

Then there was Janet herself, divorced and the ostensibly single mother of an adopted alien child - who really was not an alien at all but a human child whose people were displaced from Earth thousands of years ago to serve the goa’uld. But the truth was Cassandra had two mothers, three fathers and a host of uncles, aunts and even a grandparent in General Hammond. It was a community effort under the auspices of the SGC and the remarkable men and women who made up the top-secret project. Janet did not need to be told she was blessed; she was reminded of it daily. And she was damned if she was going to go home and tell Cassie that four-fifths of her parents were dead.

As Omoc announced they were less than five hours away from the Nox world, Janet could feel the release of tension around the cabin, the air of preparation and purpose building. If raw desire and determination were enough to bring their friends home, the job was as good as done. All SG1 had to do was stay alive until they got there - and they had proven time and again how good they were at doing that.

Staying alive.

 

~*~

 

Jack was confused. The door had opened a few hours earlier and he had braced himself - and seen Daniel’s involuntary shudder - as they both thought Klorel was returning.

Instead of Klorel though, it had been two jaffa. The men had looked almost frightened as they unhooked the chains and helped Jack to the floor before chaining him by one ankle to the beam. Daniel actually had cried out as they released him into Jack’s arms and performed the same operation on his leg. The jaffa brought food and drink, blankets, clothes, a bucket of water and clean cloths that could not be construed as anything but bandages before leaving the room again and locking the door.

‘What the hell?’

Daniel was tense in Jack’s arms, his body holding itself in readiness for more abuse. Jack wondered if Daniel had even noticed the change in their situation. Nudging slightly at the bond between them, Jack could feel a resistance, an unwillingness to open up and let Jack in.

“Please, Daniel…” he whispered, needing the reassurance as much as he needed to know how badly Daniel was hurt.

Something flickered between them, something dark and wounded and full of a need of its own. A need to stand alone, to hold onto the pain, just a little longer, in order to feel alive.

Jack swallowed against the realization of how nearly Daniel had come to dying again. He had felt his friend start to give up, but there had been no inkling of how utterly close Daniel had come to succeeding. Jack nodded to himself; he could let Daniel alone with his battle to remember who he was, what he could not do was sit idly by while Daniel did it.

Pulling the water and cloths closer, Jack did his best to clean Daniel’s wounds. So damn many of them, raw slices along the once smooth skin of face, neck, and chest. Remarkably few across the back, Klorel had seemed to want to watch everything.

‘Lucky, huh?’

Jack winced at the bitter thought, trying to refocus on the task at hand. Daniel’s black shirt was a lost cause; it was easy enough to rip across what remained of the shoulder still intact to remove it completely. The front of Daniel’s body was a mass of bruises, welts and long abrasions where the leather strap and Klorel’s fist had done their damage. Daubing carefully at the worst of them, Jack winced sympathetically at every jerk of his friend’s body that told him while Daniel appeared to be off in his own private ozone, he was definitely aware of his physical body. Jack chose to take it as a good sign and continued until every cut had been cleaned and bandaged as well as he could manage.

Taking care of Daniel’s face was harder; there was no way to avoid seeing every wince as he carefully mopped away the blood and grime to reveal a paleness that was downright frightening. Even the appendicitis attack had not left Daniel looking so - so -

‘So not going there…’

Jack drew the clothing to him, noting there were actually only two shirts there - or rather two white tunic-like things. But they were soft and clean and would help protect the open cuts Jack had not been able to bandage. With a lot of slow, gentle maneuvering, he got the shirt on Daniel’s unresponsive form then drew the blankets closer to form a pallet for them to sleep on, reserving one for actually covering with. A few more shifts put Daniel on the padding, and Jack tucked the blanket around him with a sigh of relief.

His hands were shaking now in reaction and the release of a tension he had not even realized was there. Reaching for the bottle of - whatever, Jack wondered if they should trust this completely unexpected gift to the point of actually ingesting something that might turn out to be drugged. He sniffed at the contents of the bottle, recognizing a fruity odor but not able to tell anything more.

“If he wanted us dead…”

Jack smiled at the unexpected voice, and looked down to see Daniel peering up at him through decidedly bleary eyes.

“…we already would be,” Jack finished the thought.

Daniel nodded with a small grimace that was probably meant to be a smile if he had not tried to move at the same time. “Yeah…that….”

With a frown of distrust, Jack sipped from the bottle, tasting only a sweet tanginess. He set the bottle aside, figuring to wait a while before offering any to Daniel - just in case.

Daniel was shaking his head, a small smile on his lips, but he made no comment. “You okay?”

There was no doubt in Jack’s mind that Daniel was not asking about his physical condition. There was no way he could begin to deny what he was feeling at this moment.

“No….” he admitted laconically. “Wouldn’t exactly say okay fits the bill. Feel weird. Feel you…”

“Like shit then?”

The matter of fact tone was accompanied by an apologetic twist of Daniel’s lips that told Jack so much more. Daniel was hurting - of course Jack already knew that. Daniel was still feeling guilty about the fact - also no surprise. Daniel was afraid of what was coming - hell, Jack would easily admit to being terrified too. Daniel was weary down to his soul, and the only reason he had fought his way back from giving up was the thought of letting Jack down - also not news.

“No secrets left at all…” Daniel murmured dryly.

With a wink, Jack sighed and pulled the food closer to pick through the choices. “Like either one of us ever did?” The light tone did nothing to conceal the fact neither one of them had really had any secrets from the other for a long time. From the very beginning the two of them had understood the core truths each thought well hidden from the world. Understood and connected to them by way of open hearts and open minds. They might argue about everything else under the sun - any sun - but the basics were covered.

And that was enough.

 

 

 

Chapter 13

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dreamed before.

 

~ Edgar Allan Poe

~*~

 

 

The experience was - unpleasant.

Despite his many long years as a jaffa warrior, the many times he had flown space craft of every sort imaginable, Teal’c was in no way comfortable with hanging from the tenuous grasp of an insect hundreds of feet above the ground. For all their efforts, the Nox had been unable to use their abilities to render the Fenri - and thereby themselves - invisible. Teal’c was feeling far too exposed, both personally and strategically. The Fenri were flying an oblique route to the city. The Nox and SG1 had discussed the plan as they waited for dusk - to stay low to the ground until they were directly below the city and allow the Fenri to deposit them at the lowest levels.

The city was massive by any planet’s standards; simply seeking out their individual goals - the other Nox, the power source, O’Neill and Daniel Jackson - would be a necessarily time-consuming task. But any break in their plan would cause the entire thing to fail. No single part would work individually. Only by acting together could they hope to defeat Klorel and save their missing people.

Daring a glance to his left, Teal’c noted Major Carter dangling beneath another of the Fenri. Despite her earlier protests it seemed his friend had overcome her aversion to the travel method and was enjoying herself. Teal’c could see her head moving and had no doubt the military part of Major Carter’s mind was noting every nuance of the terrain below the city in the light of the rising moon.

He envied her that composure. He had known it would be a difficult thing for him to do this, and nothing less than his friend’s lives would have found him nearly so willing to attempt it.

Most unwise, but also most necessary.

The Fenri had reached the nadir of the city, angled sharply and brought him to a ledge Teal’c had barely seen before he found himself securely and gently placed upon it.

Once on solid ground, Teal’c let instinct and training move him into a position to help receive the others as they made landfall. By the time the last of the Nox had joined them Teal’c was feeling much better. They were nearer to finding their friends - and much nearer to the ultimate defeat of Klorel.

 

~*~

 

The City was in pain. Even so close to the device and its dampening effects, Lya could feel it. A low-level hum of discordance flittering through the corridors and vibrating in the very walls. Klorel was killing the City.

As they made their way through the lower corridors toward the power plant, Lya feared for O’Neill and Daniel. If Klorel was here, so would the humans be. If they still lived they had suffered at the goa’uld’s hands and were likely to be very badly damaged. Lya could only hope Klorel had not chosen to carry out his evil in the Place.

The Place of Dreams was the repository of Nox memory, had been so for uncounted generations. The essence of all Nox resided there - thoughts, hopes, dreams, all had been absorbed into the living walls and were available to all who would enter the room and open their minds.

The fragile connection bonding O’Neill and Daniel made them most vulnerable to the Place - the effects could be devastating. If Klorel were to expose the Place to his evil, eventually the Place would rebel - and the two humans would have little defense against it.

With a gentle touch, Lya expressed her concern to Antaeus. Unsurprisingly her mate had already considered the possibility.

‘The humans have strengths they have only begun to understand. Whatever happens, they will guard one another.’

Lya nodded. Her worry was not lessened, but she could not help but be pleased by Antaeus’ change of heart concerning the humans - these two humans in particular.

Finally they had reached the central power room. Carter and her team moved directly to the main control center and Lya could see the open curiosity on her face. New technology was something Carter appeared to understand quite well - and Lya had been pleased to note an acceptance of things less concrete than technology. It was a very hopeful sign.

As Carter’s group set to work, the Nox team gathered their inali-tipped darts and blowguns in preparation for setting out to free the other Nox held prisoner within the City. When all was prepared, the team left with expressions of sad determination. It had been a difficult choice for them all to use the blowguns in an aggressive act. Opher had helped them all reach an understanding based on their beliefs and the present need. They had indulged in a Sharing in the early hours of the morning, each of them weighing the situation as seen by the others and factoring in the humans’ plight here, on Tollana and throughout the galaxy as the hated enemy of the goa’uld. Many reservations still existed but most of their number had come to accept the necessity of action if their world was to survive.

It was, nonetheless, a heartbreaking necessity and a bitter realization. It was, perhaps, one of the most difficult decisions they had been faced with in generations of peaceful existence. They had learned that peace always carried a price - if not paid by them then by someone in their stead - and without their gifts and their technology to alter the odds to the peaceful side of the equation - that situation was no longer acceptable.

 

~*~

 

There was blood everywhere. Blood and bodies, bodies piled upon one another in a grim pyre of death. Death at his own hands, death as a direct result of his words and actions. So many dead. So wrong. He was evil and needed - somehow - to atone.

There was no atonement. Even taking his own life would not help; it would just be another life to add to the body count - and he would still be damned.

He was lost.

 

Dark, too dark. He had always hated the darkness though he had learned to not mind the aloneness so much. But the darkness held memories only waiting for him to relax his guard and allow them entry. Once inside they would haunt and condemn him. Things he had done; things he had not done but should have found some way to. Never good enough, hard as he tried it was never enough.

He was lost…

 

One action beyond all others. A stupid moment of fatal forgetfulness, and his world dissolved in the sight of blood, the smell of carbide, the paleness of a beloved face as life slipped away on every precious drop of blood. No going back…no way to change what he had done….

He was lost…

 

He was alone. Dying alone and knowing they had likely failed in the purpose that had brought them out here in the first place. On the strength of his words, on the basis of his conviction his friends would die. It was so wrong. He had to do something, could not just lie there and wait to die. He had to do something….

Or they would be lost.

 

He had left his friend alone, not once but twice. Once to die, once to face a living hell - and he could no longer convince himself this time was better than the last. Daniel had been just as alone, and for far less purpose. How many times had they been fooled by alien technology, looking for mundane answers to questions that had no basis in the known? When were they going to learn and how many times would they fail each other before they would stop and ask the questions first?

Before someone was lost….

 

It hurt. Hurt deep and cold in a place he no longer thought could be touched - much less touched by the man he was coming less and less to recognize as his friend. It had struck him deep, and the pall seemed to linger over everything they did for months afterward. They couldn’t seem to get it back and the point came when he wondered if he even wanted it back anymore. But he knew he did…down deep. It was all he had left to hold on to.

Without it he was as much as lost…

 

Daniel was gone. Captured, possibly already dead, and all Jack could think about was everything that had gone so terribly wrong between them and now might never be put right. It had been all they could do to hold on to the hope every small trail sign would give them. Hope and pray they would find Daniel alive and not the main course of some alien feast. Keep on hoping that he would have a chance to put things right after all.

The hope could not be lost….

 

Daniel woke in a panic.

Knowing the dreams were not all his own, feeling as if he had intruded on a place he had no right to be. The ache of his body came nowhere close to the ache in his soul for all the intrusions it seemed he was making into Jack's life. He had stayed because Jack had asked him to, no other reason. He had wanted death, had welcomed the relief from pain it would bring --

But letting go meant leaving Jack alone, and that was one thing he could not do. He had done it once, and paid the price in three months worth of nightmares until they had found a way to get him back. It was then he had resolved never to do it again if he had the opportunity not to. The pain had almost made him forget; Jack’s pain had helped him remember.

Daniel shifted, only just noticing the firm grip on his arm.

Jack…

Trying to protect him, even from the depths of exhausted sleep. Dreamless sleep now, Daniel was sure of it. It was good. Jack deserved some peace. Whatever the reason Klorel had granted them this respite, Daniel was certain it would be all too brief. Klorel was so far gone as to be unrecognizable, even by goa’uld standards of cruelty. It would get much worse before it got any better, and Daniel was sure he could not survive another round - not even with Jack’s help.

Then they really would be lost.

 

~*~

 

Klorel could not lie still on the soft bed. The unfamiliar and completely unwelcome pang of sympathy that had caused him to order aid for the humans irked him considerably. He had not intended to do it, had no clear indication of where the thought had come from.

He had drained the life force from the Nox male the jaffa had brought, had savored the richness of the creature’s life before watching the soulless body slip away to the floor. It had felt different from his first prime’s absorption, richer. But with it had come strange feelings of peace and tranquility - unwanted feelings of sympathy and regret.

He was still trying to put aside those feelings. They interfered with his plans, made him think far too much about consequences. He had no time for such thoughts.

Tomorrow the humans would pay doubly for their respite. There would be no more. He would try something new, something different. He would break them or he would kill them. It no longer mattered which. If he could not possess their souls in one way, he would do it in another.

Klorel stretched with a sigh. Yes, tomorrow. The humans would be his - by one means or another - and he would continue with his plan. Tollana, Earth, then on to victory over Apophis - then the System Lords themselves - all would bow before him.

Or all would die.

 

~*~

 

The boy watched the humans sleep. Or rather watched O’Neill sleep and Daniel lie awake watching him.

The boy thought it might be a good time to attempt escape, but the Place told him it was not. He was not even sure how he knew it, just that the feeling was too strong to be ignored. He had to remain hidden, had to watch and remember.

So he did.

He watched as O’Neill awoke and realized his friend was not resting. Watched the concern pass between them without words, tiny ripples of feeling the Place took into itself and amplified to the boy, and to the two men though he was sure neither realized it. The Place sought to grant them peace and slowly they seemed to acquiesce. The powerful bond between the two was palpable, strong and quixotic. They slipped into sleep at long last, sleep without dreams.

Daylight would bring with it new trials, the boy had no doubt of it, but together the two would survive. If not with their lives, then ultimately with their joined souls intact.

The Place seemed to think that was a far more important goal. The boy agreed.

 

 

Chapter 14

"Hope" is the thing with feathers--
That perches on the soul--
And sings the tune without the words--
And never stops--at all--

   ~ Emily Dickinson

~*~

 

 

They had to hurry.

Sunrise had brought with it a sense of urgency Antaeus could not ignore. Something was about to happen, something very bad…

Carter’s team was ready at long last.

Between the rest of them many more Nox had been located, the teams only awaited their signal before freeing them. The timing would be critical, all had to happen in a small space of time that left no consideration for error. They had quietly tested their harmony and were certain they could control the City’s descent once the device had been neutralized.

Teal’c was preparing to lead him, Lya and Opher to the upper levels. Teal’c had slipped away in the night and returned with the news that O’Neill and Daniel still lived, and were - as they had feared - being held in the Place of Dreams. The large man had looked very disturbed as he passed on the news that all of them had dreaded; Klorel had gone mad and was focusing his madness on the two humans he hated most. Daniel was badly injured; the guards Teal’c had overheard had been casting wagers on the young man’s chances of surviving the night. They had also expressed fear of their new master, of the new power that made him far more dangerous to them as well as the humans.

They had all felt the passing of Turon in the night, felt the shock and pain as their old friend had slipped away - not to peace, but to the darkness that Klorel had become. There would be no quiet communion with Turon’s spirit in the Place; he was lost to them, all the multihued levels of his long life gone forever.

It had to stop.

For the first time in his life, Antaeus felt the desire to hate. He tightened his control as far as possible to keep the feeling inside in order to do what had to be done - and stop this from ever happening again. They would all be a very long time coming to terms with the evil Klorel had brought into their midst. If it could be done at all.

‘It can be done. The harder task will be changing… ’

Opher.

Antaeus looked up into the solemn, understanding eyes of his father. Seeing there an ache of the soul equal to his own.

‘Changing?’

Opher nodded quietly. “We have lived too long not to have the ability, and too long not to realize the necessity.”

Antaeus puzzled through the words and the feeling behind them. It was true, they could no longer remain as they had been. Complacency had left them vulnerable, isolation had left them ill-prepared, and he had to admit, superiority had distanced them too far from the reality of life as part of the galactic community. Philosophical tenets aside, the empathy they prized so highly seemed to have grown so narrow in its focus as to exclude any but themselves.

There was a point at which peace cost too much.

Antaeus believed they had reached that point and now had to decide if they were willing to continue paying it at the cost of the pain, suffering deaths of those who fought the battle daily in their stead.

 

~*~

 

The Nox world loomed ahead of the craft; a beautiful world very like Tollana, a blue-green jewel amidst the backdrop of stars and the blackness of space.

‘I really am getting senile…’ Omoc mused wryly.

The journey had been long and tense, each of them lost in thoughts and memories of the Nox and the four missing Earth people. Omoc had found himself doing the same, even to the point of uncomfortably admitting to General Hammond and the Tok’ra, Jacob, that he felt a certain fondness for Daniel Jackson - as well as a somewhat reluctant and grudging admiration for O’Neill.

His behavior after their rescue from Tollan had been proper in its context, but time and distance had helped him realize his somewhat - harsh - attitude had made an already difficult situation worse. With more cooperation that would not have entailed revealing anything about their technology, the situation might have been resolved more quickly and without the need for any of them to stand before a mass of weaponry that could so easily have turned their escape into a massacre. And Daniel would have died with them, Omoc was sure of it, following the reckless courage of his conviction and his dedication to doing the right thing. O’Neill had been bound by his sworn duty, but as they had journeyed to send the Nox a signal from the mountaintop Daniel had explained that all of them, including Hammond, wanted the Tollan to be free and were trying to help within the strictures of their duty.

Omoc had spent many long days and nights puzzling over the humans, had viewed the holo-tapes of the Triad. Though he had been offworld at the time and unable to attend, Omoc had seen much in the recorded images.

Pain that had made both O’Neill and Daniel harder over the intervening years, a duality of purpose that spoke of a deep and hard-won understanding of one another’s strengths. Yet the almost overwhelming emotion of a hard-won and bittersweet victory was as clear to Omoc as if he had been standing beside them. He had not known about Daniel’s wife, her life or her death, at the time of their first meeting. He had sensed a deeper sadness unusual in such a young man, but would never have guessed so much of Daniel’s maturity was rooted in pain. General Hammond had told him a little the evening before as the three older men had shared night watch.

SG1 was an extraordinary group made up of decidedly extraordinary individuals. Listening to the general, Omoc could easily have closed his eyes and believed he was talking to two fathers rather than one. The general was a good commander, and an exceptional man - intelligent eyes missing very little and assessing it all, sympathetic heart bound by duty but inventive in its disobedience when duty and honor conflicted. He was good man, Omoc realized, who clearly would not accept less than success in retrieving his ‘people.’

Jacob had noticed the comparison as well, extending his friend the easy comfort of long acquaintance. Understanding all the better as a commander of men and women he had also found it necessary to send into situations that might cost their lives.

Omoc had felt extraordinarily fortunate his world no longer faced such battles, though situations often arose when he had to send good people into danger - they had lost so many in the retreat from Tollan awaiting transport that would have arrived far too late. He had actually been moved to apologize for his lack of significant gratitude over their rescue; it had been an unworthy response to a gesture that could so tragically have cost SGC lives of its own.

‘Not only senile but maudlin as well… ’ Omoc smiled to himself as he turned on the sensors that would read the surface of the Nox world.

“That what I think it is?” Jacob was leaning over Omoc’s shoulder, his voice tight with the knowledge only the two of them could read in the monitors.

With a sigh, Omoc nodded and looked sympathetically at General Hammond. “A goa’uld ha’tak vessel. On the surface.”

 

~*~

 

Light.

The sun was coming up and Jack had no doubt the guards would return soon to declare the end of recess and chain them back on the wall so they would be ready for Klorel to play with.

His muscles ached and his body hurt with pains he no longer cared to delineate between ‘his’ or ‘Daniel’s’ - they hurt and would continue to do so until they got out of this Nox-looking hell Klorel had created. Jack sat up stiffly, suppressing the moan begging to be released.

Daniel was sleeping, not exactly peacefully - Jack knew the restlessness was due to pain even sleep could not completely dull - but he was sleeping and Jack was not about to wake his friend until he absolutely had to. The room felt almost serene in the golden light of creeping day. It was a good place, one he and especially Daniel would have easily agreed was worth spending some time in - until Jack looked up and saw the blood-encrusted chains hanging down in nightmarish threat and the spots of blood on the floor all around where they had alternately stood and hung not so very long before.

The dreams had not helped, had confused both of them and made Daniel feel more guilty than ever for seeing something he felt he was never meant to see. Strangely enough, Jack had felt the same thing, like some Peeping Tom of dreams that were far too indicative of reality for his comfort. He had joked about no secrets and he had meant it. But even knowing was a far different thing than actually seeing those secrets played out in living color inside your head, feeling them in your gut just as strongly as if they were real, intimately knowing someone on a level they had no choice but to share.

‘If only we could…’ Jack jerked idly at the chain around his leg - and felt it give.

The jaffa - deliberately or in nervous carelessness - had failed to completely secure the chains to the base of the beam; the spike holding it was loose. Shifting to his knees, Jack pulled against the chain and felt it give a little more. Adrenaline surged as hope sprung up and he strained his muscles in a sustained effort to pull them free; the spike withdrew a little more but held.

“Damn it…” Jack groaned in frustration, breathing hard with the effort and the thwarted hope he tried to hold onto as tightly as he held the chain.

A hand lay itself over his, moved forward to grip the chain next to his hand. Jack looked over to meet Daniel’s bleary-eyed gaze, knowing he had never been so glad to see the ‘not letting go of this’ expression in his life. With a nod Jack pulled again, feeling Daniel’s body tense beside him with the pain of straining muscle against the striped skin of his wounds - but they did not let go.

Slowly, too damn slowly, the spike gave way to arc out and land a few yards away with a ringing clatter that sounded much too loud in the cavernous room. As one they looked at the door, sighing together when the noise did not bring unwelcome attention from the guards both knew could not be too far away.

Jack stood up and reached a hand down to help Daniel, feeling the tremors shuddering through his friend’s body as he fought off the pain and very likely the vocal expression of it. Jack held on as Daniel swayed a little, waited for him to steady, then directed them both to the opposite end of the room.

There had to be more than one way in and out of this place. The bowers lined the entire rear wall, small alcoves of plants and flowers big enough for a respectable truck to park in. Jack had an irreverent thought concerning ‘Confessionals by Martha Stewart’ before searching each one in turn looking for a vent or door - any way out other than the huge open wall that would drop them a mile to the surface.

Nothing.

Daniel was leaning heavily against him, barely keeping his feet, but they had no choice and Jack knew his friend was as much - or more - aware of the fact as he was. Moving along the next wall, Jack repeated the search. On the third alcove he spotted - something.

A body.

A small Nox body.

No, not a body - breathing.

Daniel was moving forward before Jack could begin to stop him, leaning stiffly over the sleeping form and smiling back up at Jack.

“Nefreyu…”

The boy stirred at the soft sound of his name, looking up at them with the same boundless energy Jack remembered from their first meeting. The enthusiasm and innocence was dulled now, but this was Lya and Antaeus’ wayward son - alive and well and now far too educated concerning the goa’uld than Jack had ever feared he could be. There was no doubt in his mind the kid had been around for awhile, had probably seen everything that had happened in the room the day before.

‘Damn it…’

The boy stood with a shy smile and eyes so big with sympathy they were almost translucent. A small shaking hand reached out to touch the borders of the long gash across Daniel’s face before the bravado fell away, and the boy launched himself against Daniel to hug him tightly. Jack saw and felt the pain the gesture caused his friend, and would have intervened if it had not been for the silent tears he saw in Daniel's eyes. Much as it might hurt, as little time as they had to spare, Daniel’s desire to give comfort and his greater need for it were more important to Jack at the moment.

Jack gave them a few long minutes, keeping his ears and eyes in the direction of the door. Finally he had to break it up.

“Guys…we gotta go…”

Daniel nodded and pulled back from Nefreyu, wiping away the boy’s tears and fixing him with a long look. “Ready?”

Nefreyu nodded, smiling up at both of them shakily.

“Any way out of here besides the door?” Jack asked gently.

The boy nodded and moved to lead them further along the wall three alcoves beyond where he had been hiding. It was a vent, carefully camouflaged among the greenery. Small, maybe too small for two grown men - but not a child.

“Nefreyu?” Jack asked gently. “Why didn’t you get out of here before…?” There was no need to explain ‘before’ what.

Nefreyu looked up, eyes casting between them. “The Place wanted me to stay. To see and remember.”

Jack had no idea what the young Nox was talking about, but he was sure the kid had no business being around when Klorel showed up again. Prying the vent off only took a moment and a scraped knuckle then he turned and bent down to meet the boy eye to eye.

“Well, we need you to get out of here, okay? Our friends should be here soon, and likely your mom and dad will be with them.”

‘Please, God let them be here…’

Nefreyu’s eyes grew wet again. “They live?”

Jack nodded. “Sure do, and I know they’re going to be real happy to see you again.”

The boy looked at them both again, his relief at the news warring with what he perceived as his duty to watch over them.

“Go, Nefreyu.” Daniel offered softly, giving quiet permission for the boy to leave them alone.

With a last hug, Nefreyu climbed into the ventilation shaft and disappeared. Jack looked over the shaft, mentally measuring the breadth against their own bodies. Daniel could make it, Jack was fairly sure of it; it would be tight, but he could with a little judicious squeezing it could be done. There was just one little problem with the idea…

“Wouldn’t if I could, Jack…”

Daniel was leaning against the wall, exhaustion and pain finally catching up to him. But Jack knew Daniel was not talking about being physically unable to leave. Even if he had been perfectly healthy, even if they were not traipsing all over each other’s souls thanks to Klorel, Daniel would never leave. No more than Jack would leave him. The dream had only confirmed what both of them knew; they would never leave the other behind again. Never again.

Jack let a nod speak the words he could neither find nor express and took hold of Daniel’s arm to move toward the open wall. It was a last resort, but it might be the only chance they had.

 

~*~

 

It was time.

Klorel had slept poorly, considered going to the sarcophagus for a time to clear his mind. Absorbing the Nox man had been more a trial than the pleasure his first prime had been. He would have to be more careful in the future. Perhaps developing his mastery of the device would be rather like developing one’s palate for exotic foods; the menu would be key to enjoying the meal.

Now, though, his mind was clearer and more than ready to rejoin his guests.

The time had come to end things.

One way or another.

 

Part 4