Chapter 8: Season of Darkness

~*~

Of every noble work the silent part is best,

Of all expression that which can not be expressed.

~ William Wetmore Story, The Unexpressed

~*~

 As the incoming wormhole formed, George could only hope against all hope this time it would be the Nox. He prayed it was not SG1, it was far too soon and any return now could only mean trouble.

A week of enforced, and in Daniel’s case drug-enforced, rest had helped SG1 immensely. They were all far more relaxed upon their return to duty and Daniel had looked reassuringly healthier than he had upon his return from the failed mission to rescue Chaka, but George had a strong feeling it was only a temporary stop-gap at best.

A very private, very disturbing conversation with Jack had left George with images of an impossible future and an even greater resolve not to allow it to come to pass. It never occurred to George to disbelieve what the two men were experiencing, he had seen far too much in his time with SGC to dismiss anything now. Jack’s ashen face and the pain in his voice as he had described what Daniel was experiencing on a regular basis were horrifying confirmation that they were in a race against time. The fact Jack was having the same dream made it seem all the more urgent that they find answers as quickly as possible.

Even though there had been no further instances to support the alarming possibility that the two men were once again sharing more than their usual mutual affection and empathy, Doctor Fraiser had been apprised. Her tests proved as inconclusive as she had expected them to be at the outset. A slightly altered EKG did not empirical proof make.

Whatever the cause, they were still no further along in being able to second-guess the ‘how’ of what would-might-could happen to Daniel than they had been since it began. All they were really sure of were the effects it would have - and the unutterable pain it would cause - if they could not avert it.

As the last chevron locked, George drew in a long breath, sending out a prayer of hope as he did.

 

~*~

 

The Russians were coming, and going…

Lieutenant Tolinev was dying; there was no question of it in Daniel’s mind. Alone in the darkness with a fading flashlight, he was trying to complete the translation that could, hopefully, get them all the hell out of there in light that was growing increasingly too dim for the task.

Not exactly alone.

A perfectly lovely Russian woman who had fallen victim to an ancient evil that had no right to exist, much less have the power to still destroy lives, lay against the wall. Her breathing was growing more labored by the second. Daniel hated that he still had no idea of Tolinev’s first name. She deserved more than that. If she was going to die here in this tomb with him, he should at least know her name.

Vallerin had left them hours before, and Daniel was sure Jack would be less than overjoyed when he found out. Hell, Daniel was not particularly happy about it either, but he could handle it. Jack on the other hand had left the Russian major there to ‘guard’ Tolinev - and Daniel as he translated the Babylonian script all over the walls. While it was true they had an unknown Goa’uld running around, not so long ago Jack would never have been so unsubtly adamant about Daniel needing protection.

Despite reassurances to the contrary, Daniel was having an increasingly difficult time reconciling his effectiveness to the team with the disturbing certainty that he was weighing them all down and endangering them unnecessarily. He served a purpose, true. As Jack had said, no one else available in the Stargate program could have deciphered the combination to get them inside the ancient ziggurat, or read the text that revealed Marduk’s true fate. Yes, his knowledge had given them the clues they needed to realize the Goa’uld had survived his macabre imprisonment, but Daniel felt more and more like the benefits he brought to the team failed to overshadow the difficulties he brought them lately simply by being there.

His team seemed constantly mindful of the phantom fate lurking around every dark corner, constantly worried whether this mission would be the one in Daniel’s dream. A fate they still had no idea was indeed fate, or prescience or some deeply rooted psychosis stirred up by all the Nox excursions into his head recently.

But then Jack was having the dream now too - once that Janet and the general were aware of, twice more since then that they did not. Neither Jack nor Daniel had felt the need to enlighten them, a fact that made Daniel feel even worse about the entire situation: Jack was lying to his superiors now, a lie of omission was still yet a lie.

The darkness seemed to grow deeper; the flashlight batteries were weakening steadily. Where the hell was his team?

Or the Russian team for that matter?

Or Vallerin?

The translation certainly was not going to get very far once the flashlight died completely, and Jack had trusted the man to stay at his post…which was hard enough for Jack to do.

Jack had a basic and understandable distrust for the Russians. Daniel was aware - in a way no one else could be - that Jack’s covert ops experience had instilled in him a definite reticence to put any kind of trust in the Russian military machine, but Daniel also knew Jack could and had formed close friendships with many of them in the ‘old days’. In Daniel’s fairly educated opinion, the macho posturing between Colonel Zuhkov and Jack had a lot less to do with their ethnic or political origins than it did with military, alpha-male bullshit. In any other situation it would almost have been funny…

A voice in the now near-total darkness disturbed Daniel’s nervous reflections. Tolinev was muttering...something. Moving over and bending low, Daniel concentrated on the words…

“Vwehazju adeen ya na darogu… Skvoz tuman kremneesty poot blesteet… Noch teeha. Poosteenya vnemlet bogu…’

Daniel recognized the words; it was a poem…

‘The night is still. The desert harks to God…’

In another time and place the words would have had no power, here in this place they chilled Daniel to the core…

He wondered where in Tolinev’s life the poem had become significant to her. Had it been mother, father, sibling, friend or lover who uttered the haunting phrases and made such a mark on her that they emerged so poignantly as she hovered near death in this ancient, forsaken tomb?

Sliding down the wall to sit beside her, Daniel took Tolinev’s hand in his own, feeling the coldness of her flesh, squeezing gently so she would know she was not alone. He had a uniquely personal, or not so personal anymore, insight lately on the depths to which the soul could descend without reassurance someone cared. There was no way Daniel would let this vibrant young woman go through that. No way.

Tolinev’s words had trailed off, her energy fading far too rapidly. Daniel cast his mind back to days spent in solemn discussion and outright ribaldry with several Russian students and faculty in Chicago. His love of strong coffee had been born in those long ago days when language posed no barriers and words were a bridge he crossed willingly and often, with such enthusiasm to learn what was on the other side. He remembered the poem, remembered the aging professor who had shared it so wistfully by the lakeshore one day as they had shared fine wine and food and coffee and words.

It seemed another lifetime ago, but Daniel remembered…

“Speet zemlya v siyanee galubom… Shto zhe mnye tak bolna e tak troodna? Zhdoo l chevo? zhaleyu le o chyom? Uzh nee zhdoo ot zheeznee neechevo ya… E nee zhall mnye proshlava neechoot…” He softly whispered the words into the darkness, hoping somehow Tolinev could hear them and be comforted.

Even after all the years that had passed, he still felt the same rush of poignant homesickness the words and tone evoked in him when they had been spoken the first time. The longing for something he, at that point in his life, had never really known.

Did he have regrets for things gone by? Sometimes Daniel wondered. A few weeks ago he would have said no, the long arduous trail of his life had at last brought him to a place that closely approximated home for the first time in years. Now? Now he wasn’t so sure…Sha’re had been his hope for so long, and without her he had been cut adrift. He realized, now, the futility of regrets, but sometimes it was very hard not to let them pull him down.

“All that I seek is peace and freedom…” Daniel finished the poem, not realizing he had lapsed into English. “To lose myself and sleep…”

 

~*~

 

As Jack rolled away from the collapsed tunnel, feeling the ache of bruises rapidly forming over most of his body, there was only one thing on his mind - getting his team the hell out of there. Vallerin-Marduk and Zuhkov were dead, the ancient weapon they would have exploited buried under the rubble along with them. The place seemed to have been cursed from the get go, and the sooner they shook the dust of the place off the better as far as Jack was concerned.

Tolinev was still alive, his team was still alive and he was determined to keep it that way. Colonel ‘Duty First’ Zuhkov may not have understood the importance of not leaving his team behind but Jack sure as hell did.

Unsteadily making his way back to the sarcophagus room, Jack sighed in relief as he replayed Carter’s radioed reassurances in his mind. She, Teal’c and Daniel were together again, along with Tolinev. Daniel’s voice and tone had been conspicuously and disturbingly distant as he reported the Russian lieutenant was still hanging on.

Daniel’s somber demeanor disturbed Jack all on its own, and crossing the threshold into the main room he was even more unsettled to find Daniel sitting beside the wounded soldier, holding onto her hand and whispering something in Russian that had her smiling through the pain.

Even with his focus on the pair before him, Jack was aware of Teal’c and Carter being their cautious selves and assessing his snakeless state. As Daniel looked up and smiled tiredly, explaining the ring transporter they had found, Jack knew what they had to do.

The weapon - the Eye of Tiamat - may have been buried back along the corridors, but it had to be buried along with this place. Forever. Power like that had no place in the hands of humanity, Russian or American, and definitely not in the hands of the Goa’uld.

 

~*~

 

Tolinev - Katya, as she had discovered - was going to be okay. Sam had been highly impressed with her Russian counterpart and had empathized with the very familiar problems she described experiencing as a woman in a man’s world. Sam supposed ‘boy’s club’ mentalities were a global, if not universal, problem.

She had been so lucky with SG1. This team and this command were the culmination of a lifelong dream. A cut above any standard she had ever known in her career. Despite their rocky start - and a few gender speed bumps along the way - Sam had finally found a place she truly wanted to be with SG1.

She hoped Katya would find something just as fulfilling in her next assignment. Chekhov was pushing for a Russian team to be attached to SGC, and Sam really hoped if it happened that Katya would be a part of it.

The mission had been a harrowing one, no question. Sam had rarely been prone to claustrophobia in her life, but being trapped in Marduk’s tomb had brought her closer to it than she was comfortable with. All those endless dark, narrow tunnels and the unknown danger from - whatever the hell that creature had been - had played on her nerves considerably. She was just so glad it was all over now…. and she needed a shower in the worst way.

Entering the locker room, Sam slid her jacket off, hoping the showers were empty. The guys had left the debriefing well ahead of her and she had stalled as long as she could, but there was a limit to how long she was willing to stay this dirty even for her team.

Gathering her toiletries, Sam approached the door and prepared to knock before entering, just in case, when she heard loud voices.

“Another month, Jack?” It was Daniel, he sounded so dejected.

“That’s what the general said. We can make it, Daniel.” Characteristically reassuring colonel voice.

A long silence followed then….

“Can we, Jack? Can we really keep on the way we are while the Nox fix their Stargate?”

“Do we have a choice?”

Another long pause.

“You know we do…”

“No, Daniel. Not a chance.”

“Dammit, Jack, I just don’t know how long…”

Shuffling sounds, and then the colonel’s voice again, softer this time. “We’ll make it, Daniel, I promise….”

Realizing she was intruding on a very private moment, Sam dumped her things on the bench and retreated into the corridor. She could stand to be dirty a while longer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9: Season of Fire

~*~

All are architects of Fate,

Working in these walls of Time.

 

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , The Builders

~*~

 

Standing around waiting for the technicians to dial the gate, Daniel was way too noticeably anxious for Jack’s comfort. At the best of times Daniel was fidgety before a mission, but usually it was as an extension of his passionate nature and enthusiasm for what lay on the other side of the gate. Whether directed at some archaeological or linguistic wonder or at some ‘meaning of life’ thing, Daniel’s body language was never dull. But this - the twitching fingers and tight closed off expression - disturbed Jack more profoundly than he could articulate.

The dream was eating Daniel alive just as surely as the radiation in the dream itself did each and every time. Piece by agonizing piece it was happening, and Jack feared that sooner or later the end result would be the same. Rather than the rapid decay of their now mutual nightmare, Daniel’s very spirit was dying by slow degrees and Jack felt helpless to stop either from happening.

Standing there now in his best suit, the one Sam had helped him buy for Jordan’s funeral, Daniel just looked lost and miserable.

They had argued more in the past few weeks than they had in months, mostly about Daniel staying behind. Desperate almost bitter exchanges overshadowed by the knowledge that Daniel would indeed die before he would allow harm to come to his friends for his sake countered by just as certain knowledge on the team’s part they could not protect him if they were not together.

The news that Omoc of Tollana was gravely ill had hit Daniel hard. The Tollan leader had reportedly lapsed into a coma after suffering a stroke during a council meeting.

In the past, the irascible Tollan had never been one of Jack’s favorite people, but the man had bucked his own government to lend a hand when SG1 was in trouble and that counted for much more in Jack’s book than a bad attitude. Even back when they had first rescued the Tollans from their dying planet, Daniel and Omoc had forged a grudging mutual respect. Apparently Omoc felt Daniel was slightly less primitive than the rest of them, and Jack would never argue that particular point.

They had been summoned to appear on Tollana by Narim - at the behest of Councilor Travell. All they had to go on was a cryptic message giving them a hard to believe clue as to why they were wanted there….

‘The council has reassessed Doctor Jackson’s written proposal and wishes to meet for further discussion.’

On the surface it sounded good, possibly even promising, but Jack’s radar was pinging off the scale once again.

Travell had never been one of Earth’s biggest fans, had on fact always been as coolly condescending as to once make Jack consider mooning her just to see if the woman would react. After what she and the Tollan council had forced him to do to prove Earth was ‘trustworthy’ - as if saving their necks had not been enough - Travell ranked way below the halfway mark on Jack’s list of favorite people they had met through the stargate.

Daniel’s proposal was a huge sore point as well. Jack knew precisely how much work had gone into that document; he had watched Daniel sweat blood over every comma and semicolon knowing all along the odds it would ever be taken seriously were next to nil. The fact they had supposedly read it now and wanted to talk simply did not begin to add up for Jack.

But they were still going.

If there was even a chance, Hammond said, they had no choice but to take it. While Jack knew the general was right, there was nothing in the rules that required him to like it.

Glancing around, Jack assessed his spit and polished team - looking dapper, and in Teal’c’s case surprisingly more imposing than ever, in their assorted civvies and Class A’s. He wished for the hundredth time he could have his P90 in hand, even knowing it would not work on Tollana. Nodding in recognition of their usual pre-mission ritual - exchanging looks of unity and mutual determination they would all return safely home again - Jack smiled. No matter what lay ahead of them through the gate, SG1 would come home.

All of them.

 

~*~

 

The Tollan Council had deceived its people and conspired with the Goa’uld. Teal’c could hardly believe it was so. The Tau’ri had respected this world to the highest degree, even when circumstances had set them at odds. Teal’c was also aware of how highly Major Carter regarded Narim, perhaps even feeling something more personal for him, and the man’s current quandary had upset her deeply.

Teal’c understood quite well how complicated the situation was for the young Tollan. It was not an easy thing to see one’s gods fall from grace, be they alien parasites or far more human and fallible beings.

At the moment they had much more important concerns, however, the major and Daniel Jackson were in the custody of Tanith, and a weapon of unutterable power was the price the Tollan were being asked to pay in order to secure their total enslavement rather than their deaths.

For all their technological supremacy, the Tollan had not seen beyond survival to that ultimate and unchangeable truth. The Goa’uld were not creatures to be bargained with; they were parasites in every sense of the word - controllers. What they could not control, they destroyed; there were no compromises with the Goa’uld. The Goa’uld did not make deals…at least none they ever intended to honor.

Their plan was a good one, but very delicate in its timing and execution; if even one element failed, Tollana would be attacked without mercy and they would all die. They had to destroy the existing bombs the Tollan had built for Tanith, while simultaneously eradicating the mothership in orbit around the planet and freeing their imprisoned friends. Teal’c wished in passing that he had been the one permitted to free Daniel Jackson and Major Carter, but he was aware now was not the appropriate time for him to exact his vengeance.

He had no intention of repeating his past mistakes.

Teal’c’s task was to get the bomb to the mothership; the shipment was due to be ringed up any moment. The device had to be armed at the last possible second so the ship’s sensors would not detect it too soon. Narim was in the warehouse with the remaining bombs set to trigger them on Teal’c’s signal, while O’Neill waited outside the Tollan council chamber with Narim’s phase shifting device. Once the explosions began, O’Neill would enter the chamber covertly and effect the rescue of Major Carter and Daniel Jackson.

There were far too many variables at work in their plan for his comfort - and they were only three - but Teal’c found he could not permit himself to believe they would not succeed.

 

~*~

 

“ Ushen pegget…”

Tanith really was a total bastard, Sam had decided. It was not bad enough the Goa’uld had smacked them up against the wall with his hand device, now he and Daniel were engaged in a baiting exchange of incomprehensible but unquestionably emotionally charged words Sam could not help but think would end badly.

“ Shema’u…”

Almost certainly for Daniel.

As much as she wanted to believe the exchange was attributable to just Daniel exhibiting his usual behavior where the Goa’uld were concerned, this time there was a inflexible and reckless edge to it all that Sam found frightening. They just had to hold on, she knew the others were out there and had to be mounting some kind of game plan. They just had to hold on…

“Kree mel shak…” 

Instead Daniel was ‘endearing’ himself to this arrogant nitwit and acting as if he could care less that Tanith’s hand was twitching more and more by the second to eradicate the persistent irritation that was Daniel. Was this the kind of thing her dad had put up with on the ha’tak?

“Icha…”

She had no idea what they were saying, but Tanith was clearly less than thrilled. Surely Daniel did not believe they could somehow get themselves out of this? The armed Jaffa at the door seemed a pretty effective deterrent to her. Did Daniel have a death wish?

Whatever he had in mind, he was obviously not going to back down. Sam wished the colonel were around; he was the only one who could stop Daniel at this point, she was sure of it.

Just when it seemed Tanith had taken all he intended to, the lights dimmed and the sounds of multiple explosions could be heard. The Jaffa called out something in Goa’uld, and Sam had the immense satisfaction of seeing Tanith looking panicked. Sam guessed the game plan had just been set in motion. The Goa’uld hurried out the rear entrance, even as the wall beside them seemed to bend and the colonel was there with them. Sam sighed in relief; it had been getting more than a little hairy.

Glancing over at Daniel, Sam noted the tension in his eyes as well as the tightly controlled body language that revealed just how angry he had been. It would take a while before he calmed himself entirely, she knew, but until he did he would close himself off from them. It was Daniel’s way, and years of familiarity with Daniel’s way had taught her she would get no explanations for his earlier behavior until he was good and ready to give them.

It would not, however, stop her from having a word with the colonel….

She had seen Daniel go darkside more than once, but something had been different this time. Something cold and dangerous that made her fear what it could mean almost more than she did Daniel’s dream fate. She had an awful feeling she knew what was going on in his head and, if she was right, it had to stop.

Soon.

 

~*~

 

His world was safe.

Narim sighed as he looked out over the plaza, imagining the black smoke still emanating from the destroyed warehouse laying over the city, imagining gutted buildings in place of the serene beauty before him. They had come so very close to losing their world, their way of life, even their very souls. For the sake of their survival, their government would have consigned Tollana to a life of enslavement to the Goa’uld. Narim did not delude himself that it was ended, but now at least they were forewarned and prepared. The Earth people had saved them, yet again, and this time he was determined their contribution would not go unrewarded.

With another small sigh, Narim continued on to the hospital. Omoc had awakened in the early hours of the morning, claiming to have been awakened by the noise of explosions. The doctors confirmed it, reporting they had been hard pressed to keep the man in his bed.

Travell was in prison, awaiting the new council’s judgment. Narim hoped Omoc would consider taking over her position, they needed someone in control now who would stand firm against the proven threats against them and never place Tollana in such a position again.

Even with all the upheaval since SG1’s arrival, it had been very nice to see Samantha again. Narim was still very uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had heard the voice of his computer interface. It had been arrogant of him to use her voice in such a manner, but it had helped him feel closer to her, and they did not see one another nearly often enough to suit him. The rescue mission to the Nox world had been many months before and Narim had been quite delighted when the Council had asked him to extend the invitation for SG1 to visit.

Sadly, in another day they would be gone again. The humans had remained on Tollana to help restore order and assure the ion canons were sufficiently modulated to defeat Goa’uld shielding should others return seeking revenge.

SG1 had received the news of Omoc’s recovery with great relief - Doctor Jackson in particular. It had not escaped Narim’s notice that Doctor Jackson’s friends still seemed quite concerned about him. Nor had he missed noticing how unwell the young archaeologist seemed. There was undeniably something amiss with the man, and his friends were obviously quite acutely concerned. Narim hoped he would have time to speak with Samantha privately - and not only because he missed her, but also because Narim cared very much what happened to Doctor Jackson, and he knew Omoc did as well.

Whatever the problem was, if they could help then Tollana was not only obligated but also highly motivated to be of assistance.

 

~*~

 

The Earth visitors were trying very hard to pretend that nothing was wrong, but Omoc could see that a great deal was. Daniel had been very frail when last they had parted, but now his physical condition made his appearance on the former occasion seem healthy by comparison. Considering Daniel had been recovering from death at the time, this was not good.

Omoc had gruffly suffered their awkward well wishes, had demanded their stories concerning events of the past days, and then summarily dismissed them all.

Except Daniel.

It had taken very little prompting for Omoc to get the full story from Daniel; Omoc supposed it was quite difficult for the younger man to discuss his possible impending death with his friends.

“Not exactly…” Daniel admitted, smiling wryly in a way Omoc understood well.

Omoc stated his suspicion something had gone wrong in the Nox procedure He believed somehow Daniel’s psionic pathways had not been properly healed. There was no question at all in his mind what Daniel was experiencing was quite real, or at least had the potential to be. Traditionally a man of science and politics, Omoc had far too much respect for the power of the human mind to dismiss what Daniel dreamed, or the physical stresses it was placing upon him.

“We could send a ship…?” Omoc kept his voice neutral, but could not conceal the warmth he felt for this young man.

The offer was met with a grateful smile then Daniel had turned very serious, “There’s still time to wait…”

The words chilled Omoc to his core.

Despite his best efforts to prevent it, he was very fond of Daniel and to see the young man so matter of fact in the face of his own death was unacceptable. There were no words Omoc could give to offer comfort but he attempted to all the same.

“Trust in your friends, let them help you.”

Omoc would deny on his actual deathbed he had said them, but he was glad when they seemed to help.

Daniel smiled tightly, but his voice was sincere as he nodded. “I will…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

Season of Avoidance

~*~

Friendship, of itself a holy tie,

Is made more sacred by adversity.

 

~ Charles Caleb Colton

~*~

 

“Damn, damn, damn…” Daniel was peripherally aware of the odd look he was getting from Teal’c but he wasn’t ready to explain what he’d read in the old crumbling newspapers just yet.

The Aschen were nothing but parasites.

From what he’d read so far, it seemed just as surely as the Goa’uld took over a host body, so the Aschen took over worlds, molding them to their needs regardless of the cost in lives, history, or freedom of the people. They conquered worlds by deception, destroying them just as surely as any bomb would do. One thing for sure, Daniel knew he had to find Jack. They had to warn him as well as Ambassador Faxon, and prevent them from making any sort of deals with these…things.

‘Aschen Vaccine Causes Sterility’ .

The story in the fragile newspaper beneath Daniel’s hands left no room for doubt. The Volians had once been part of a thriving society, well into the first stages of its industrial revolution. An influenza epidemic had killed millions, and Daniel suspected the virus might well have been just as manufactured as the vaccine. The Aschen had created a crisis, and ridden to the rescue of a race of people too desperate to question their good fortune. The double-edged sword of their contrived salvation had been the final nail on the coffin of the Volian way of life. When the truth was discovered, the Volians had rioted, effectively destroying what remained of their factories and major cites, completing their own regression.

Now, hundreds of years later, the Volians no longer even remembered their once promising past. Now, they were farmers for the Aschen, plowing fields of plenty above the remains of what they had once been, not even questioning the occasional artifact that meant nothing to them except that it stopped them from plowing more.

They had to stop the same thing from happening to Earth.

 

~*~

 

Bloody hell…

If Daniel was right, and Jack had no doubt that he was, then Faxon was about to sell Earth’s soul for way too small a price.

Carter and the dandy ambassador were still on the harvester, finalizing the deal that would place them all under the thumb of the Aschen. They had to get word to Carter, get the two of them the hell off that ship, then get them all back through the stargate.

But how?

Daniel was pacing, the familiar ‘we need to do something and we need to do it now’ stalking that told Jack the archaeologist was working his brain overtime to come up with a plan to help.

Right now the Aschen were under the mistaken impression Jack and the rest of SG1 were on their way back through the stargate to spread the good news about the alliance. The harvester hovered over the gate; Jack assumed it was waiting its turn to dump its load through to the Aschen home world, the latest Volian payment for the privilege of living, never knowing or caring about the life the Aschen had stolen away from them.

“If only there was some way of getting private word to Carter…” Jack mused aloud.

At the words, Daniel stopped pacing; more importantly one finger was raised in the air, and his gaze was focused beyond the shadowed bulk of the Aschen ship.

Before Daniel could say anything, Jack was already smiling…he knew what was coming next…

“I have an idea…”

 

~*~

 

Sam had a very bad feeling about it all….

She and Joe were alone with the Aschen, cut off from her team, and the aliens were acting more and more self-satisfied by the second. Nothing had been signed yet, but Sam was having a very hard time quelling the persistent feeling that once it had been the situation would alter in a very bad way.

A burst of static on her comm. unit startled her. As far as she knew, SG1 was gone and she had expected no further communications from Earth until after the signing. The Aschen leader, Mollen, was looking at her strangely, suspiciously, knowing as well as she did that the rest of her team had left. Joe just raised an inquiring eyebrow, his diplomatic facade steadfastly concealing the deeper questions lurking behind his eyes.

“Must be some sort of electronic interference from something within the ship,” she mused, hoping neither the Aschen nor Joe would mention it hadn’t happened before. Turning down the radio’s volume, Sam inserted her earpiece, regs did not allow for turning it off.

With a nod, Joe continued on with his ambassadorial spiel, congratulating the Aschen on the new gate addresses they would be receiving as partial payment for the technologies they offered.

As her radio hissed again, Sam became aware there was a pattern to the sounds. Curious, she tuned out the meeting that was taking place in front of her, focusing her attention inward. Short and long hisses.... a code. Not just any code, one of the oldest known on Earth. Morse code.

S-A-M....

It was her name.

SG1 was still around. And something was wrong.

Leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table, Sam surreptitiously moved her thumb onto the call button of the radio in her vest pocket, tapping out O-K to let her team know she was aware of what was going on.

A-S-C-H-E-N B-A-D

The Aschen were bad?

R-E-A-L-L-Y B-A-D

Okay that had to be Daniel. The Aschen were really bad. She got that, most of her believed it, but what did they want her to do?

S-T-A-L-L

Question not asked but anticipated and answered, definitely Daniel.

She tapped out an affirmative, wishing she could ask for more details.

G-E-T J-O-E A-L-O-N-E

Now that was a thought that had crossed her mind more than once in recent days, but Sam had a feeling Daniel was not snooping into her love life at the moment.

Get Joe alone, Daniel had said, and she assumed she was meant to do it before he had a chance to sign the treaty. It sounded easy in theory, but dammit, how was she supposed to...?

Oh, man…

It was the oldest, most clichéd trick in the book, and one so far beneath her as to make her queasy just considering it. She was an officer and an educated woman. This was so not fair, and it had better be worth it or her team was going to pay dearly, and for a really long time to come.

Sam stood up, making the sounds she vaguely remembered as appropriate from an old movie she had once seen....

And pretended to faint.

‘At the very least I should get an Emmy for this…’ she mused as she hit the floor.

 

~*~

 

He really, really liked Sam, but if Joe had been called upon to rate her for subtlety he would be forced to give her very low marks. He had done his best to deflect attention from her when it became obvious, at least to him, that she was receiving a message.

He wondered if she realized she tapped her fingers in that annoying way when she was nervous, or that she got that quirky twist to her eyebrows when she was lying? He had not known her long, but he liked to think the majority of it had been quality time, and even he had picked up on these things. He thought they were adorable.

The Aschen had left them alone to go do whatever it was they did when not trying to bullshit diplomats to give Sam time to ‘recover’. The door had no sooner closed behind them than Sam was on her feet and on her radio demanding an explanation.

Leaning in close enough to smell her hair, an experience he would have enjoyed far more in other circumstances, Joe listened in on the earpiece she held between them.

Doctor Jackson had discovered the true nature of the Aschen, they were conquerors, subtle and patient, but destroyers just the same. There was no way they could deal with these people, no way they could place Earth at their mercy. Colonel O’Neill was on the radio now, telling them they had to get off the harvester and to the gate as soon as possible. He was fairly sure there was no way the Aschen would just let them off at the next stop, so Joe was very curious as to how they would accomplish a graceful exit...and so he asked.

Ropes? Belay?

He was a diplomat, not a mountain climber....

But he was no fool either.

The longer it took them to get back to Earth and lock out the Aschen coordinates, the greater the chance the Aschen would choose to shed their benevolent, nice guy images and send one of their biological weapons through to Earth, just taking what they wanted.

Joe nodded fatalistically to Sam and began gathering his things; there was no sense in leaving anything behind for the Aschen to use against them later. By the time he had finished and stepped out on the observation deck, Sam had a rope secured to the railings and was holding out some kind of belt apparatus she obviously wanted him to put on.

Being the gentleman he had been raised, he started to argue with her that she should go first, but he realized she was right. She was experienced at this, trained for it, and he most certainly was not. The closest he had ever come to a rope in his life was swinging out over Tate’s Pond back home in Virginia.

As Sam rigged him up in the contraption, giving him a crash course in the mechanics of rope descent, he became aware of just how much he liked her touch on him, how very much he wanted to...

He kissed her.

“Just in case…”

With an apologetic smile, he withdrew and climbed over the railing, spotting SG1 below them. Just before he let go, he had a moment to be pleased at the distracted smile on Sam’s face before he slipped awkwardly down the rope and out of her sight.

 

~*~

 

Ambassador Faxon performed most satisfactorily for a beginner, though his landing technique was much in need of improvement. Both he and O’Neill were in place to help him avoid serious injury.

Even as the ambassador’s feet touched the ground, Daniel Jackson was running to activate the stargate. Major Carter was already on her way down and they would have no time to waste once she was with them.

It would not take the Aschen long to realize they were being deceived, and Teal’c was quite certain they would not be at all pleased to lose the Tau’ri ‘alliance’.

Major Carter had descended more than half the distance of the rope, and, from the sounds Teal’c noted on the periphery of his attention, Daniel Jackson had dialed most of the symbols needed, when the stargate began moving.

The Aschen had discovered them.

Looking above, Teal’c saw the device the Aschen had described as a biological weapon poised within a slowly opening cargo bay above them. Daniel Jackson saw it too, speeding up his dialing and ducking before the still moving stargate as the wormhole billowed outward.

Major Carter was still much too far above them and O’Neill shouted for her to cut the rope, promising they would catch her. Teal’c watched as the major followed her orders, then prepared, along with O’Neill and the ambassador, to cushion her fall.

Daniel Jackson had rejoined them, taking up Teal’c’s staff weapon and arming it to cover their retreat. As the major loudly debated the wisdom of such an action, Mollen appeared above them, a hand weapon raised to stop them from escaping before the larger weapon could be released. Daniel Jackson fired first, forcing the Aschen away from the railing as Major Carter let go with a shouted, “You guys owe me…”

She landed in their arms, not quite gracefully, but without apparent injury.

As they ran for the stargate, O’Neill raised his own weapon and joined Daniel Jackson. Teal’c aided the major and the ambassador to the stargate, pushing them through before turning and raising his zat’nikatel to assist his friends.

Daniel Jackson shouted something Teal’c could not hear to O’Neill who nodded agreement before both men turned and raised their weapons to the device hovering above them. Teal’c realized they wished to sabotage the weapon, making it difficult or impossible for the Aschen to drop it through the gate before SG1 could return home and close the iris.

As both men fired their weapons together, Teal’c noted with immense approval that the release mechanism for the device was significantly damaged. Then both his friends were beside him and together they leapt through the Stargate for home.

 

~*~

 

It was a damn shame they had lost the possibilities the Aschen offered, but George was just glad all of their people had returned home safely. Major Carter had wrenched her shoulder in the ungainly tumble they had all landed in as they exited the gate. The ambassador complained of ‘rope burns’ - none of which were visible. George was sure he would hear about the basic details in debriefing, but given the way the man said it, a way that made the major blush most unprofessionally... George was positive he would not be hearing the whole story unless it came in the form of a more personal announcement.

George hated to think what might have happened if they all had not returned.

Kinsey seemed far more disappointed that SG1 and their guest had returned safely than he was about the Aschen treaty. The man was obviously out for blood and SG1 was the sacrificial lamb du jour on just about any given day. Between Simmons’ recent visit and Kinsey’s renewed interest in SGC operations, George was beginning to suspect a concerted and organized effort was in place to undermine the program, SG1 in particular.

He still had some cards up his sleeve he had been careful not to play. If it became necessary George would be more than pleased to use them. SG1 was not going to go down without a fight, and George couldn’t think of a single one of their allies who would not be just as outraged as he was that anyone would have the gall to try.

For now, they were back and they were all safe. Unless George missed his highly educated guess young love was in bloom, Jack was looking damn pleased with his team, Kinsey looked liked he had swallowed sour lemons, and all was pretty damn okay in the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11: Season of Desperation

~*~ '

We two were friends:  I go to mine own land

For ever:  find some other:  as for me

I scarce am fit for your great plans:  yet speak to me,

Say one soft word and let me part forgiven.

 

~ Lord Tennyson, The Princess

~*~

 

 

Sam was missing.

The realization hit Daniel with the force of a physical injury. She had to be okay, there was no way he could or would let himself believe otherwise. If Sam could be gone, so quickly and without a trace, then an essential part of his foundation was gone as well. As long as they were together he could let himself believe everything would be okay, it was when they weren’t that things seemed to get so screwed up. They had to find her.

Jack was on his way over, purportedly with someone who wanted to help them. As he waited, Daniel wandered around his apartment, trying not to let his emotions run wild.

He was well aware he had been taking a lot of chances lately his team did not approve of, but he knew he was safe to do so. Or at least, he thought he was. He might not know precisely when the events of his dream were going to take place, but he knew enough to know when they were not - and whatever he had to do to keep his team safe, he would do. They couldn’t ask him not to.

Stepping out onto his balcony, Daniel leaned his arms on the railing and closed his eyes, breathing in the cold morning air. Inhaling deeply, he let the chill dampness clear his mind of the lingering remnants of the dream he had been plagued with throughout the night, and of the remaining nausea that inevitably resulted. He had to shake the exhaustion that threatened to slow him down; he had no time to be sick. There was never enough time, but now more than ever he had to be at his best.

He was trained in analysis, and what else was a crime such as this but analysis of available clues? Scientific method, plus a little creative thinking, had their place in the world of bad men with agendas as much as in the world of antiquities. How many times over the years had they done this, put all their skills together to come up with answers? It was what being a team was about; they could do this.

Even as Daniel opened his eyes he saw Jack’s truck pulling up to the curb across the street.

Jack, Teal’c, and a smaller bearded man Daniel couldn’t recognize got out, heading toward the apartment building. Daniel stepped back inside and headed for the kitchen and the coffee he had put on when Jack had called. He needed the warmth as much as the caffeine right now. The others probably would too.

They would figure this thing out; there was no other option.

 

~*~

 

“Is he okay?”

Not that Harry really cared but Jackson looked like hell.

They hadn’t been on the road an hour before the man was asleep against the backseat window of Jack’s truck. A truck Jack would let Teal’c the alien drive but not him. Harry was more amused than offended all in all; trucks were so flyboy-ish anyway. It was the size thing.

Jack looked up from his own inspection of the man in question and shrugged. “He’s had a lot to deal with lately.” He said neutrally.

“The Nox thing?”

Harry took a lot of pride in knowing more than he was supposed to. Moments like this, seeing the shock on Jack’s face, made it all worth it.

“Something like that….” Jack shrugged again, trying not to give anything away.

Harry nodded, looking closer at Jackson in the light of the intermittent streetlamps. The kid had never been a heavyweight even at the beginning, but he was a lot thinner now than Harry had ever seen him before. Deep lines and shadows marked his face, speaking of long-term stress and lack of sleep. Something was up, and before this trip was over Harry had every intention of knowing just what it was.

Not that he gave a damn, really, Jackson was a pain in the ass at the best of times; Harry just hated not knowing things.

 

~*~

 

Damn snow…

They were stuck in Ogden, the pass ahead of them blocked for at least the next few hours. They should have flown, Jack knew, but with an illegal felon in their midst there was no way they could have managed it.

Damn Maybourne.

Jack had taken Daniel off to the motel diner. For the same reason they could not catch a plane, Teal’c was stuck in the hotel room with Harry. Jack couldn’t help an edge of amusement at the thought of Teal’c intimidating quarters off Maybourne for the vibrating bed.

He really hoped dismemberment entered into the conversation somewhere.

Daniel had slept most of the way, but he still didn’t look very rested. There had been one totally nerve-wracking moment when Jack was sure Daniel was descending into the nightmare. Thankfully Harry had been fiddling with the CD player and hadn’t noticed when Jack had, apologetically but none too gently, elbowed Daniel in the ribs. He had hated doing it, but the last thing they needed was to give Harry Maybourne ammunition against them. Today, at this moment, Harry was on their side. Tomorrow? Likely even Harry didn’t know.

Either way, SG1 took care of their own - and Harry was an outsider with an ever-changing program. There were more than enough people trying to cut Jack’s team down as it was, there was no logic in adding to the list if they could avoid it.

Daniel had apparently been thinking along the same lines. They had no sooner ordered their food than he brought up the subject of staying awake and on guard.

“You can’t keep doing this, Daniel..” Jack chided gently.

Daniel’s shadowed eyes and tight smile told the older man that his friend was well aware of the fact, but knew, as Jack did, there were no other options.

“Choiceless, right?”

Separate rooms had occurred to Jack, but the motel was full up with other people waiting out the snow, and besides any way they split up would have given Harry ideas of a different kind.

Actually Jack would have been a lot more comfortable with that kind of rumor; any repercussions would be directed at both of them. Daniel freaking out in the night, saying God knew what in his sleep, would - if Harry chose to tell the wrong people - get Daniel kicked off the team too quick to talk about. Even worse, it would get him disappeared into Mental Health without a get-out clause.

Jack knew all too well how the shady underside of the government worked, and NID was the worst of the lot; there was no way he was going to allow Daniel to become vulnerable to them.

Yeah, the deception was necessary, but no, he didn’t have to like it - and he told Daniel as much, surprised by the barely controlled emotion he saw in Daniel’s eyes in response.

‘Oh, man, he is way too close to the edge…’

Reaching out a hand, Jack tapped his fingers on Daniel’s tightly clenched hands where they rested on the table, then tightened his grip.

“Ten more days, Daniel. We can do this…”

Daniel looked up at Jack, raw-edged exhaustion of both body and spirit shining out of his too bright eyes.

“I know, Jack, I’ll make it…” Daniel almost whispered before his gaze dropped to his hands, still covered by Jack’s.

With another squeeze of reassurance, Jack forced a smile. Daniel was so damn close to losing it, and both of them knew there was no way he could afford to. Jack made his mind up then and there, one way or another Daniel would not be left alone to get through the next ten days. They would get Carter back, there was no other option there either, and then Jack would camp out on Daniel’s doorstep for the duration. If he had to sit on the other man, so be it, but Daniel needed rest, food, and peace - probably not in that order - and Jack was going to make sure he got them all.

Then they would see the Nox, and if there were any justice left in the universe for wayward but highly necessary archaeologists, then, surely, it would all be over. Not that Jack believed it really would be; he had a feeling that until or unless the nightmare future was met and, far more importantly, defeated - it would never be over.

 

~*~

 

With a sigh, Janet sank into the chair behind her desk. It had been a very long night. Not only had they found Sam, who would be cut loose as soon as her labs confirmed the drugs used on her by those quacks were out of her system but the colonel had managed to get himself shot. Just as bad, possibly even worse at this point in all their lives, Daniel had been with him when it happened and had been forced to shoot Conrad. Unfortunately, Conrad had disappeared in all the chaos and no one seemed to be sure if he was dead or not.

In the meantime, Daniel had parked himself in the ward and refused to be moved. He gravitated between Sam’s bed and the colonel’s across the aisle - talking to them when they were awake, just sitting there when they were not. Janet knew they had all been through a lot trying to get Sam back, so for now she was allowing it. But there was a limit to what she would allow, especially when Daniel was so obviously sick with worry and the stresses he had been under for the past three months. They had just over a week to wait, as far as they knew, until the Nox would send for Daniel and SG1. One more week of worry and bad dreams, and who knew what else.

For now, she would let him do what he needed to in order to deal with coming so close to losing his friends and having to shoot someone in the defense of one of them. Even if Conrad was a Goa’uld, she knew Daniel well enough to know he needed time to settle things in his mind. Maybe not deal with it, she knew better than to expect that, but get past it to a place where he could live with what he had been forced to do. Janet had not been privy to all the mission details, but from what she had been able to pick up in overheard conversations she knew Daniel had taken an awfully big chance - and probably prevented the colonel from being killed.

Sam would almost certainly be going home in the morning, with Joe Faxon no less as volunteer nursemaid; the man had hovered around the base for days now awaiting word with the rest of them. Janet approved, the guy was cute as a button and obviously had a hell of a lot more going on behind those gorgeous eyes than politics.

The colonel would likely be stuck in the infirmary for a few more days, and there was no way in hell she intended to allow Daniel to hang around that long. She would have a little chat with Teal’c, convince him to get Daniel out, fed and watered and rested.

She laughed at the image; there had definitely been times she, and others, had compared Daniel to an enthusiastic pup, but it had been a long time since - and far too rare of late. Unfortunately, Daniel undeniably needed a keeper these days; it was very clear to her that he was not taking proper care of himself when left to his own devices.

One more week, they just had to get Daniel through it…

 

~*~

 

Rolling over in her sleep, Sam felt the pull of something around her, something that called to her to wake up.

Across the aisle she could see Daniel in the chair beside the colonel’s bed, or rather she saw a shoulder and leg half-hidden by the curtain, but she knew who it was. Would have known even if the curtain had been fully drawn. If Daniel was not with her, he was with the colonel; there was nothing more constant than Daniel when one or more of them were hurt.

The two of men were talking in low tense voices, trying - but clearly failing - not to wake her. Curiosity getting the better of her, Sam tuned in to try and make out what they were saying.

“What was I supposed to do, Jack? Stand there and watch Conrad kill you?”

“Of course not, but…”

“But nothing. With or without this dream…thing, you have to know I wouldn’t just…”

“I know that, Daniel. Even back on Abydos I knew it. But dammit what if that Goa’uld had decided to jump hosts? What then? The other thing wouldn’t matter a damn if you became a host…is that what you want? We’re playing with way too many unknowns here…”

“Playing, Jack?” Daniel’s voice grew soft and sad. “Believe me, I know this isn’t a game. I don’t think for a minute I’ve become some kind of superman, but you can’t ask me not to be who I am.”

The colonel laughed quietly. “After five years, I definitely think I know better than to do that, Daniel.” A long pause, “It’ll be okay…”

A sound Sam recognized as Daniel trying not to laugh, then, “Maybe not okay, but…”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah.”

Things got quiet then, Sam supposed the colonel had gone to sleep again. Daniel shifted in his chair, no doubt settling in for another round of waiting. Sam figured Janet was still around somewhere, she would keep Daniel from overdoing the SG1 vigil thing.

With her and the colonel recovering, they would get a little downtime. Maybe enough to keep Daniel out of harm’s way until the Nox got in touch. Maybe enough so he could get some real rest for a change. Sam had trouble remembering a lot of things about her rescue, but she definitely remembered thinking how completely drained Daniel looked as he hovered over her and the colonel on the transport bringing them back.

The entire situation was gradually wearing him down, wearing them all down really, on the mental and emotional level, and in Daniel’s case the physical. They were all too tense, far too aware of what could happen if they let down their guard to be at their best as a team. They still worked - boy, did they ever - but the balance needed fine-tuning. Tuning Sam knew they would not be getting until, finally and completely, Daniel was safe and the dream was a distant memory.

 

Part 5