Fic: Hero For A Day (1/2)
Apr. 26th, 2003 07:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galaxysoupFANDOM: Stargate SG-1
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, H/C
SUMMARY: Jack, Daniel, and a bit of a role reversal.
SPOILERS: Window of Opportunity, Serpent's Lair, Solitudes
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The speech Daniel gives on cults and the ritual burial of objects was taken from the book 'Archaeology: Theories, Methods and Practice', third edition, by Colin Renfrew and Paul Bahn, page 408.
HERO FOR A DAY
Blink.
Ow.
Blink.
Ow.
Slowly, Daniel's eyes focused. It seemed to take a very long time, and was complicated by the fact that his glasses appeared to be gone. He could see...dirt, and some scrubby grass stems, and...that was about it.
So, he wasn't in the infirmary. Tentatively, he began a catalog of senses.
Eyes: check.
Head: ow. Best not to think about it too much.
Neck: still there.
Ears: fine, although the left one seemed to have dirt in it.
Torso: lying on something uncomfortable, but otherwise seemed all right.
Right arm: in one piece.
Left arm: couldn't feel it. That probably wasn't good.
Right hand: holding something. He thought.
Left hand: see left arm.
Right leg: fine.
Left leg: fine.
Other important anatomical bits better not named aloud: unhappy but there.
Slowly, and with more than a little trepidation, Daniel managed to roll over onto his back, which immediately began to sting pointedly. His head swam miserably and his left arm began to tingle. He was beginning to understand that he'd been lying on it, which accounted for the ache in his ribcage and the lack of circulation. Cautiously, he trailed his fingertips lightly over his forehead, and winced when they came away bloodstained. He felt sick.
He lay there in the grass letting himself wake up a bit more, and then finally trusted himself to sit up. Janet would be proud-he was moving slowly and respecting his limitations. He immediately had to lean to one side and throw up, but after a moment the sickness passed and the horizon stopped dancing long enough for him to look around.
The first thing he found were his glasses, lying a few feet away. The left-hand ear piece had snapped off, and the lens on the same side was cracked, but he put them on anyway. They balanced awkwardly on his nose and aggravated his raging headache, so he took them off again and slipped them into a vest pocket, continuing his survey of the surrounding area. Where he had been lying there was a darkened patch of blood-soaked earth, apparently from him. He touched his head gently again, nearly braining himself with the gun in his right hand, and was relieved to find that the bleeding had mostly stopped. He had a sneaking suspicion that was due at least in part to the large amount of dirt crusting the left side of his face.
He eyed the gun in his hand suspiciously. He had no clue what it was doing there, but figured that its presence at least meant his injury probably hadn't been due to carelessness or clumsiness on his part. Small comfort there, because there was something very important missing from the alternating forest/plains scene before his eyes.
SG-1 was conspicuously not present.
Oh, not good. So, so, SO not good.
For a moment he just sat there, trying not to panic, and then it occurred to him that maybe sitting in the middle of a field in plain sight when he knew some type of battle had at least temporarily scattered his team probably wasn't the brightest thing he'd ever done. He staggered to his feet, still clutching his gun, and weaved his way over to the tree line, where he could be sick in the bushes and fall down for a little bit. He slid down to the forest floor and propped himself up against the convenient trunk of an immense alien redwood wannabe, sliding his pistol shakily back into its holster. He fumbled left-handed for his radio, relieved to find it still tucked neatly into his vest pocket.
"Jack?" he said, and was relieved to hear his voice was steady. "Sam? Teal'c? Can anyone hear me?" There was no response. Wearily, he let his hand fall back into his lap.
Okay, Daniel, he said to himself in his best Jack-voice, what do you have, what do you need?
Well, he needed information. He had no memory of any kind of attack. As far as he was concerned, his day had made an alarming and unexplained leap from the briefing this morning to waking up facedown in the dirt on another planet with a bleeding head wound.
Okay, so he needed memories and he probably had a concussion. Peachy. What else?
He needed his team, needed to know if they were okay, where they were, and what they were doing. Why they had left him, injured as he was. They wouldn't have abandoned him if they could have helped it - Jack was almost pathological about enforcing his no-one-gets-left-behind credo.
All right, so basically what you need is information. Now how are you going to get it?
Daniel leaned his aching head back against the tree trunk. That could be a problem. He could hardly go stumbling through the woods yelling for his teammates. Blearily, he checked his watch. If he recalled the briefing correctly - and he wasn't entirely sure he did - General Hammond would be checking in with them at the gate in about six hours. If he could just find the gate, maybe the General could tell him what was going on. At the very least, he might run into more members of his team.
Of course, if he'd lost more than a day, there was no telling when the General was going to check in again...
He shook his head to dislodge that thought and nearly lost his battle against dry heaves instead. He'd just have to cross that bridge when he came to it.
He lurched to his feet, clinging grimly to a convenient tree branch until the world stopped doing the tango. He'd better find someplace good to hole up until he could get to the gate. If for some reason he couldn't make contact he'd need somewhere to spend the night, and if he ran into whoever was apparently trying to kill him a bolt hole could prove invaluable.
"How'm I doing so far, Jack?" he asked a nearby bush, and made his way gingerly through the trees towards what seemed to be a path in the distance. He didn't know what direction he should be going in exactly; he'd just taken a moment to remember which way he'd been lying when he came to and how he would have had to be standing to fall in such a position, and then headed in the direction he had hypothetically been facing.
Well, it was worth a shot, anyway. And it was better than flipping a coin. Especially since he didn't have one.
The tramping of armor-clad feet startled him out of his reverie. Oh, he knew that sound. There was nothing quite so distinctive as the noise a Jaffa patrol made when it was heading in your direction.
He darted for the trees, ducking around behind the massive trunk of a dead tree and pressing himself flat against the rotting bark. The move made his eyes blur and his head feel as if someone was trying to excavate his frontal lobe with an ice pick, but the rush of adrenaline kept him quiet and focused and on his feet. He held his breath, listening as the Jaffa marched closer...closer....and past. He relaxed slightly against the tree as the sounds of the Jaffa patrol faded into the distance.
Still wary, he edged around the tree, keeping as close to the trunk as he could. He peered back down the path the patrol had taken, the distant flash of sun on armor confirming his Jaffa theory. He crept further around the trunk, checking out the path as thoroughly as possible...and almost had a heart attack and died on the spot when his foot went out from under him, straight through a gap between the roots of the tree and into a hole.
He thudded down, the impact of the back of his skull against the dirt doing nothing for his headache. Slowly, he sat up, his heartbeat loud in his ears. If his foot was somehow trapped between the roots he might as well give up now, because one Jaffa patrol usually meant others and there was no way he'd be able to conceal himself this close to their route.
He gave his foot an experimental twist and a was rewarded by a definite loosening of the earth around his ankle. Keeping an ear out for any more patrols, he probed the area. At first glance it seemed that he had stepped straight into some sort of animal hole dug between the roots of the tree, but that didn't explain his freedom of movement unless it was an awfully big animal with an awfully small front door.
He dug his fingers into the dirt and managed to loosen a few handfuls, gratefully extracting his foot. Curious now, he leaned closer and peered down, absently unclipping the flashlight from his vest and angling it down into the hole. It seemed to open up considerably below the first few inches of soil, and it occurred to him he might be able to dig it out a bit, maybe make a sort of pit that he could pull branches over and crouch down in. It wasn't the best, but it was better than nothing.
He clawed at the earth some more, carefully pushing the freshly dug soil down into the hole instead of leaving it in tell-tale mounds on the forest floor. Once he had widened the opening as far as it would go, and hoping he would be able to fit through the confining roots, he mustered his courage and poked his hand down, shining his flashlight about. No hungry animals with alien rabies attacked him and he relaxed slightly.
He withdrew his hand and made his way gingerly feet first through the hole, twisting his shoulders awkwardly to make the most of the irregularly-shaped gap. Finally, his head throbbing in time with his heartbeat, he crouched down and got his first real look at his discovery.
It wasn't so much a hole as it was a long narrow cave - a dry underground stream bed undercutting the dead forest giant above. The floor was made entirely of rounded stream pebbles shading into sand on either bank. Small stringy roots hung from the ceiling, reminding him strongly of strands of hair.
He couldn't believe his luck. Since it was a stream bed, no animals were likely to want to take up residence here, and as long as it didn't rain, he should be okay. It was big enough to sit up in and not bang his head, and reasonably comfortable, as far as caves went. He allowed himself a small smile of success and wriggled back out, casting about until he found several innocuous but suitably camouflaging branches he could prop artistically over his entrance. That done, he settled himself in the cave and took stock of his injuries.
He couldn't really do much about the cut on his head besides wipe away the extra dirt with his bandanna and a little water from his canteen. He thought he should have some antiseptic wipes somewhere and spent several minutes searching for them before remembering they were in the pack that had vanished with his teammates and his memory. Fortunately, he did have several packets of aspirin, which he dry swallowed gratefully, reminding himself he'd have to thank Janet when he got back to the SGC. For reasons he'd never cared to dwell on, his vest pockets always seemed to hold an inordinate amount of aspirin.
Next he eased off his vest and jacket. He had no idea why his back hurt the way it did, but he guessed it probably wasn't a good sign. As he put down the vest, a gleam of metal caught his eye. He clicked on his flashlight, angling the vest towards the light, and was astonished to discover two bullets, mashed and flattened, caught in the protective kevlar weave of the vest. He reached around, gently probing his back, and winced when he identified two definite sources of pain.
Huh. So someone had tried to shoot him? That didn't fit at all. Jaffa didn't use projectile weapons; it was one of the things they had used to their advantage before. Daniel had a momentary mental image of a rapid-fire fully-automatic staff weapon and shuddered. He frowned suddenly, hefting the vest to shoulder height. One of the bullets had hit low on the right side of his back; the next higher to the left. If he continued the trend upwards, that would leave him with a third bullet... he winced. Right by his head.
He touched his head wound lightly. He couldn't really tell what it looked like without a mirror, but judging by the pain and the stiffness of the dried blood in his hair it was a long, shallow wound across his temple, exactly what one would expect from a bullet's near-miss.
He swallowed hard. It was inexpressibly eerie, sitting there in a cramped little cave on an alien world he had no memory of getting to, trying to put together the pieces of a near-fatal encounter he'd had but didn't remember. A sudden wave of longing washed over him. He wanted his team. He wanted to be home, curled up on the sofa with a book and a mug of coffee, secure in the knowledge that Jack, Sam and Teal'c were all a phone call away. Hell, he'd even take sitting in the briefing room, listening to Sam expound on wormhole physics, watching Jack try to get Teal'c to play a surreptitious game of hangman. He shivered, hugging the vest to him, and suddenly felt very scared, very vulnerable, and very, very alone. He closed his eyes. It'll be okay, he told himself resolutely. Everything will be fine.
* * * * * * * * * *
He awoke slowly, clinging to oblivion in lieu of painkillers and safety. He'd fallen asleep propped up against the wall of the cave and his neck was sore. He rubbed at it, grimacing, and tried again to resurrect the blank area between the briefing and waking up in the field. It still wouldn't come.
He sat up, slipping his vest back on, and hooked his radio earpiece into his ear out of habit more than anything else. It wasn't like there was anyone to talk -
His eyes flew open. Crap! What had he been thinking, going to sleep? He still had to find the goddamn Gate!
He scrambled for the entrance, shoved aside the camouflaging branches, hauled himself halfway out...and found himself staring at the distinctive metal armor of a Jaffa.
Daniel froze in an awkward half-crouch, one knee planted on the outside ground, hands gripping the roots at the sides of the entrance. The Jaffa was facing away from him, evidently waiting for someone on the path, and apparently hadn't noticed him yet. Daniel held his breath. All the Jaffa had to do was turn around and he would be in plain view.
His earpiece chose that moment to come to life. "Colonel O'Neill, this is General Hammond. Please respond."
Daniel held his breath as the Jaffa shifted. Every nerve Daniel had was screaming at him to get out of sight and answer Hammond before he gave up, but he was too afraid to move any further in case the Jaffa noticed him this time.
"O'Neill, this is Hammond. Please respond."
Another Jaffa came into view down the path and the first straightened, saluting. I'm not here I'm not here I'm-not-here-I'm-not-here... Daniel chanted silently. The Jaffa met up in front of him, conversing in low tones. They were too far away for Daniel to see their insignia, but there was no way they would miss him if they so much as glanced in the right direction.
"O'Neill, this is Hammond. Respond if you are able."
The two Jaffa turned and continued down the path, still talking. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hammond ou - "
Daniel lunged for his radio. "Wait! Wait! I'm here! I'm here! I can hear you!" He kept his eyes anxiously on the departing Jaffa, but they didn't seem to have overheard his frantic hail.
There was a pause and Daniel was afraid he'd been too late. "Colonel O'Neill?" Hammond's voice came finally, uncertainly.
"No, no, I don't know where Jack is. This is Daniel. Can you hear me?" He pulled himself the rest of the way out of his hole, eyes riveted on the path.
"Doctor Jackson?" General Hammond's voice was frankly astonished.
"Yeah, it's me - what's going on? What happened?"
"Daniel?"
"Sam!" Relief washed through him. That was at least one of his teammates well and accounted for. "Thank god. Are you okay? Where is everyone?"
"Teal'c and I made it back to the Gate, but we were separated from the Colonel. Daniel, what's your situation? Are you all right? Can you make it to the Gate?" She sounded just as shocked as General Hammond to hear his voice.
Daniel rubbed his forehead absently, wincing when he accidentally touched the edge of his wound. "I don't know. I don't know where the Gate is."
"What do you mean? Are you lost?"
Daniel sighed. "No, I just can't remember where it is. I got knocked on the head - everything since the briefing is a big blank. Sam, what happened to us?"
"Doctor Jackson, is your position secure for now?"
"Yes sir, I managed to find a place to lie low."
"All right. Stay there and we'll send someone for you. It may take a few hours - SG-9 came back with a virus and the mountain is on twenty-four-hour lockdown until we're sure it's safe."
Daniel cursed silently. "Okay. There are a lot of Jaffa around but none of them seem too alert. They haven't even gotten close enough for me to see who they're working for."
"We were surprised by Cronos' Jaffa," Teal'c's voice rumbled over the radio. "They managed to obtain one of our weapons during the fight and used it upon us as we fled. We believed you had been killed or we would not have left you behind."
Well, that answered a few questions, at least. If they'd been running for their lives and seen him go down, there wouldn't have been time to stop and check his pulse. "I know, Teal'c. It's okay. Nobody knows what happened to Jack?"
"We do not. But there is a fortress a short distance from the Gate which I believe to have been one of Cronos' summer palaces. If O'Neill was captured, he may have been taken there."
"Teal'c!" He heard Sam exclaim faintly. "He's injured, he can't..." her voice faded into the background as she stepped away from the microphone, still scolding Teal'c.
"Doctor Jackson, stay where you are. Do not attempt to rescue Colonel O'Neill at this time. We'll send you help as soon as we can. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
"We'll dial back up in ten hours if we haven't gotten a team together before then. Do you copy?"
"Ten hours, yes sir."
"Hammond out."
The radio went dead but Daniel kept his hand by the call button, thinking furiously. Okay, so Sam and Teal'c were all right. That was a huge weight off his mind, to be sure, but Jack was still missing. He bit his lip. General Hammond was probably right to have ordered him not to rescue Jack - Daniel was, after all, an archaeologist, not a soldier - but the thought of Jack imprisoned by Cronos' Jaffa... he shook his head. He didn't like the idea of leaving Jack in their hands for any longer than was necessary. Surely his help would be better than no help at all. Maybe he could just snoop around a little once it got dark, try to find out if Jack had actually been captured. Then he wouldn't be rescuing Jack exactly, he'd just be finding out information. Which was his job, after all. And once he had information, he could tell the rescue team where to go. That was a good plan, wasn't it?
He nodded his head decisively. Yes, that was what he'd do. He'd wait for dark, because he could use all the help he could get, and then try to find this fortress Teal'c had mentioned. The path was probably a good place to start; if it didn't lead to the fortress maybe it would lead to the Stargate.
In the meantime, he thought ruefully, a little more aspirin was probably a good idea.
* * * * * * * * * *
Janet heard them coming all the way from the elevators.
"...I'm not saying I don't trust him, Teal'c. You know I trust him. It's just that I don't think sending him off to rescue the Colonel was a good idea."
"The longer O'Neill spends under the custody of the Jaffa the greater the chance that he will be harmed in some manner. As we cannot rescue him ourselves, Daniel Jackson is the best alternative."
Puzzled, Janet got up from her microscope and stepped out of the infirmary to intercept them. "What are you two talking about?"
Sam's face lit up. "Janet, guess what! Daniel's alive! We radioded P8X-425 and managed to raise him. He's okay, got a knock to the head, but seemed pretty much compos mentis besides the fact he couldn't remember anything since the briefing."
Janet shook her head in amazement. "That man has more lives than a pack of cats! What about Colonel O'Neill? Did you talk to him too?"
Sam shot Teal'c a quelling look. "No, we didn't. We don't know where he is."
"He is being held in a fortress by Cronos' Jaffa," Teal'c countered, unperturbed.
Sam sighed in exasperation and continued doggedly with the argument Janet's arrival had interrupted. "We don't know that, Teal'c."
"He did not respond to our hails. That is the most logical assumption."
"Just because he didn't answer doesn't mean he's being held prisoner. He could be injured, or just unable to answer." Sam pointed out.
"All the more reason for Daniel Jackson to search for him," Teal'c said reasonably.
"Okay, slow down," Janet said, forestalling Sam's rejoinder. "General Hammond sent Daniel after Colonel O'Neill? By himself?"
"No," Sam ground out. "Teal'c did."
"Teal'c did?" Janet repeated in confusion.
"I did not."
"Yes, you did!"
"I told Daniel Jackson of my theory. Whether or not he rescues O'Neill is his decision."
"Teal'c!" Sam said angrily. "You told him that deliberately because you knew he'd go after the Colonel!"
"I informed him of his options. You believe we should have kept him in ignorance?"
"Yes!" Sam almost shouted. "He would never leave the Colonel like that and you know it. He'd drag himself over to the damn fortress broken and bleeding if he had to! We wouldn't have sent him off alone on a rescue mission even if he wasn't injured. We don't even know if he's armed!"
"Nor do we know he is not."
"That's not what I meant and you know it!"
"Enough!" Janet broke in, using the tone she used when Cassie started whining. "Teal'c believes he's right, you believe you're right. That's okay. What's done is done. Let's leave this conversation for when - WHEN - they get back, all right?"
Giving Teal'c a mutinous glare, Sam nodded and crossed her arms. "Fine."
"Teal'c?"
"Very well."
"Okay then. Now you two go keep yourselves occupied until we hear more from Daniel. Stay out of each other's hair - if I hear you arguing again I'll separate you, is that clear?"
"Yes, Mom."
Janet rolled her eyes. "Now scoot. The sooner I figure out this virus the sooner you can go after Daniel and the Colonel."
* * * * * * * * * *
A few hours later, refreshed by another nap and the last of his aspirin, Daniel crept quietly through the forest. He was sticking to the path for the time being because it was easier to follow in the dark, but he listened intently for any indication of other travelers as he moved. So far he had been lucky; there were no patrols out. Security, on the whole, seemed to be pretty relaxed. As he got nearer the fortress, of course, there would probably be more guards, but for now the woods were almost deserted.
A glimmer of light between the trees made him slow his steps and edge more towards the side of the road, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. A few careful moments later, he reached a bend in the path.
Ahead of him, the trees thinned and the ground sloped down to a wide ravine spanned by a slender, strangely delicate-looking bridge. There were lit torches on either side of the bridge but no guards that he could pick out. On the other bank, barely visible through the trees, Daniel could see the lights of a large building, presumably the fortress. Okay. So the ravine acted as a sort of moat. That might explain the lack of guards, at least.
Daniel squinted at the bridge. He couldn't see anyone guarding it on his side, but without his glasses the other side was too fuzzy for him to be sure about. He bit his lip in frustration. He'd have to find another way across; he didn't want to risk getting caught if he didn't even know Jack was being held captive.
He retreated back into the trees and continued in the general direction of the ravine, angling back until he found it again several hundred yards above the bridge. He made his way to the edge, lying down and running his hand over the wall of the ravine. It seemed pretty steep, and was comprised of a loose pebbly soil that would crumble under his weight. He sighed irritably.
* * * * * * * * * *
General Hammond's perusal of Doctor Frasier's latest report on SG-9's virus was interrupted by a firm knock at his office door.
"Come in," he called, and wasn't in the least surprised to see Teal'c enter.
"General Hammond."
"Teal'c. What can I do for you?"
"I wish to return to P8X-425."
Hammond sighed. He'd been expecting this, but the expectation didn't make his decision any easier. "As soon as the quarantine is over."
Teal'c's expression didn't flicker. "I am a Jaffa. My symbiote protects me from the virus. I do not need to be quarantined."
Which was exactly the response Hammond had been expecting. It was like a choreographed dance: if one member of SG-1 was in trouble, the other three would bang down his office door demanding to help. He would tell Teal'c he couldn't leave. Teal'c would come up with several alternate suggestions, all delivered in a carefully neutral and imminently reasonable tone of voice that never failed to remind Hammond that before defecting from Apophis' side, Teal'c had commanded armies.
"I'm sorry, Teal'c, but I can't allow that."
"I understand," Teal'c said calmly, making no move to go. Hammond could feel it coming; another reasonable suggestion that he'd be so tempted to give in to... To give them credit, of course, much of the time those suggestions were actually damn good ones, and occasionally even implementable.
"I have not seen my son Ry'ac in several weeks." Teal'c's face could have been carved from stone, and Hammond had the sudden urge to ask the man if Colonel O'Neill had taught him to play poker yet. "It would please me greatly to pay a visit to him in the Land of Light."
Yep, there it was. Reasonable Suggestion Number Four Billion...And Climbing. He wouldn't be sending Teal'c on a solo suicide mission, he'd be sending him off on a picnic with his son. And of course it was just a coincidence that from the Land of Light Teal'c could Gate anywhere he pleased. He had to say, though, the guilt trip was new. Teal'c must have been taking lessons from Doctor Jackson or Major Carter.
"Teal'c, until we know exactly how this virus is transmitted, I can't let anyone through the Gate for any reason, symbiote or not. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."
"Very well." Teal'c turned to go. "I will be ready to depart when the time comes."
Of that Hammond had no doubt. He watched Teal'c's resolutely stiff back vanish through the doorway and turned his attention back to Doctor Frasier's report, which did nothing more useful than tell him she didn't know anything.
He was interrupted by another knock at the door. "Come in."
"General Hammond."
"Major Carter."
"Sir, I was thinking...if we went in Haz-Mat suits..."
And the dance began again.
* * * * * * * * * *
Daniel eyed the fortress carefully from his crouched position behind a rotting log. It was up on a slight hill, all stone and metal spires stabbing the night. Light flared from arrow-slit windows, reminding him of a tale from King Arthur's legend. Sir Daniel and the Castle, maybe, or perhaps Sir Daniel Gets Killed By Fifty Guards Before He Gets Within a Hundred Feet of His Friend.
Oh, yes. He'd found the guards all right.
He watched them pace back and forth on the battlements. The big main door of the fortress was shut tight. The windows were tiny. If he was Robin Hood, maybe, he could have shot an arrow up to a tower balcony and climbed in that way, but just because he'd read 'A Gest of Robyn Hode' in the original Middle English didn't mean he could do the acrobatics. There was a small village of dilapidated huts huddled around the outer walls of the fortress, but none close enough to the wall to be used as a means of crossing.
He let his forehead rest on the log with a thump. These guards were not relaxed and bored. These guards were alert and ready to shoot invading archaeologists. And while he'd gone up against worse odds before - taking out two motherships on their way to destroy Earth came to mind - he'd always done it with two heavily armed Air Force Officers and a pissed-off ex-Jaffa behind him.
His heart heavy, Daniel scrambled back from the log and ducked into the woods, heading back towards the ravine. He'd noticed some other lights through the forest on his way over and he thought it worthwhile to check them out, although unless they belonged to a special unguarded Tau'ri holding cell, he didn't really see how it would be any great help.
The second batch of lights turned out to be from a temple of some sort, built in the same style as the fortress itself. Intrigued despite himself, Daniel made his way silently over the uneven ground and edged into the courtyard, keeping to the shadows, and crept up to the door. The interior of the temple was large and ornate, bordered by pillars and alcoves and practically spraypainted with the ubiquitous golden Goa'uld writing detailing the deeds of the mighty Cronos. There were no guards in sight. Daniel relaxed a fraction.
"...but I fail to see why you require my help in this matter, Thersus," said a voice from within the temple. Daniel jumped and ducked, nearly losing his footing in his surprise. A man in priestly robes had just entered the temple from a room at the back, followed by a tall Jaffa.
"He refuses to talk. I would have my men persuade him, but my lord Cronos does not wish the Tau'ri to be irreperably damaged until he is here in person to enjoy it." The Jaffa sounded bored. Daniel gritted his teeth.
"I see," said the priest, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I do have a small amount of ser'cha in my possession. It would not be enough to work upon a Jaffa, but on a human it should perform admirably."
"You have never tried it on a human before?"
The priest shook his head. "I would have liked to, but I do not have it in such abundance that I can waste it on experiments. We will have to try a few different doses before we find the right one. Does my lord Cronos arrive soon?"
"He will be a few days. Sokhar is testing his boundaries again."
The priest sneered. "Fool. He does not realize with whom he toys. Come with me, I will get you your ser'cha." The priest deposited something behind the altar and the two of them disappeared into the back of the temple.
Daniel sank down to crouch on the ground by the door, thinking hard. This ser'cha stuff sounded like a truth drug of some sort, and not one that Jack should be coming in contact with if there was a way around it. He rested his face in his hands, thinking furiously.
The fortress was impregnable, at least by him. To get in he would need either a convincing disguise or invisibility, neither of which he had. He could wait for the SGC to mount a rescue, but in the time it took them to come through, Jack could be forced to tell the Jaffa any number of things. At least Cronos wasn't due to appear for another few days. Daniel made a rude gesture though the temple door in the general direction of the story of Cronos castrating his father Uranus and felt marginally better.
He sighed. The only thing he could think of was to go find the Gate, pray it was unguarded, and somehow convince General Hammond to send him a whole bunch of C4 and maybe one of those nifty grenade launcher things.
Right. Like that was going to happen.
Dispirited, he got to his feet and slunk back into the shadows. A tiny sliver of a moon was rising in the distance, and its shadows fell across the uneven ground before him, throwing it into high relief. He'd have to be careful on his way back.
He made his way across the lumpy terrain, automatically noting the symmetry of the shadows. Obviously a village had surrounded the temple once; he could see a broad clear area that was probably a street, and another that had been a courtyard of some kind. He frowned, the archaeological part of his brain that wasn't preoccupied with Jack's predicament becoming intrigued. Why had the village been abandoned? It had obviously been gone for quite some time. He tried to remember if Teal'c had ever mentioned a sharp decline in Cronos' power that would have led to the abandoning of the planet for any period of time, but couldn't recall anything.
There was something niggling at the back of his brain, some clue he was missing. Was it the fortress? No, that had seemed fairly straightforward. The temple? Nothing there was out of the -
Wait. Wait just a minute. The story of Cronos' unfilial recreation had been laid out in typical golden Goa'uld style...except for one thing. It wasn't actually a part of the wall beneath it. It had instead been tacked on over the dull gray stone.
Daniel turned and jogged silently back to the doorway of the temple, glancing through. Yes, he'd been right; the story had definitely been added on later, which made him wonder if Cronos hadn't built the temple himself. Maybe the castle, the temple, and the first village had all been built a long time ago by the original inhabitants of the planet, and then Cronos had simply taken it over.
He wasn't quite sure what, if anything, he'd be able to do with that information, but it was the first thing that had felt promising all night. He'd been trying to think like a soldier before - maybe what he really needed to do right now was to think like an archaeologist.
He stepped back and looked at the building, really looked at it, comparing it to the fortress in his mind's eye. They were both old, large, made of stone, and reminded him of medieval European castles. It was odd, actually, that they were this far apart; he would have expected the temple to be part of the village around the castle. He arranged a map in his head, laying it out like an archaeological site survey. There was the fortress, high on a hill for defense, with the village around it and the ravine and bridge in the distance. Then there was the temple, off to the right, closer to the ravine.
His mind chose that moment to show him a picture of the ravine. He remembered the ravine floor, with its scrubby grass and stunted bushes growing over smooth pebbles...just like the underground stream that was his hiding place...
His eyes flew open. Of course! What would make a ravine? A river, dry now but maybe not always. Why put the temple far from the fortress but close to the river?
As a means of escape from the castle.
Which meant there had to be some secret way of getting from the fortress to the temple. The question was, where was it and did the Goa'uld know about it?
Casting nervous glances at the door where the priest and the Jaffa had vanished, Daniel crept in through the temple door and began examining the walls and floor. Logically, the secret passage would be on the side of the temple facing the fortress, so he began to scrutinize the stone, searching for cracks in the mortar or scratches on the floor that might indicate moving parts.
"...need to give it to him in small doses. I'd better come with you, just in case."
Daniel threw himself into one of the alcoves and pressed himself against the wall. A moment later, the priest and the Jaffa walked past, leaving through the main door into the courtyard. Daniel counted to ten to make sure they weren't coming back, and tried to remember how to breathe.
He began searching the temple more frantically. If the priest and the Jaffa were on their way to give Jack the drug, he was running out of time.
He ran his fingers over the walls, searching for irregularities in the stone, translating the text out of habit as he went along. He covered the wall facing the castle in short order and found nothing.
He cast a nervous glance at the room the priest and the Jaffa had been in. It was on the right side of the temple, but did he dare go in? What if there were other priests?
He stood for a moment, indecisive, then screwed up his courage and sidled up to the door. One way or another, he had to find Jack. This was no time to chicken out.
He listened for a few moments, crouched by the door, and heard nothing. Slowly, his heart in his mouth, he eased his way in.
The chamber was mostly empty, housing only a cot bed and a chest presumably containing the priest's belongings. The walls were bare of golden script and he wasted no time in beginning his examination. About halfway around the chamber, he noticed a few faint scratch marks on the floor.
He knelt down, tracing the grooves with his hands, and then stepped back from the wall. Yes, he could see it, now that he knew what to look for; a small square door, about waist height, distinguishable only by the slightly darker mortar around it.
He stepped forward and squinted at the stones, studying them for any indication of opening mechanisms, and tried not to get impatient with the amount of time it was taking. Being careless at this point would only mean more time before he could get to Jack. A stitch in time saves nine. Better be safe than sorry. Um... one man's ceiling is another man's floor?
Halfway down the wall on the left Daniel hit paydirt. There was a small, almost invisible mark scratched into the stone, although to his disappointment Daniel didn't recognize it from any of his twenty-three languages. He traced the symbol with one finger, then pushed the stone in hard. There was a grating sound of stone on stone that made Daniel very glad the temple was empty, and the little door swung open. Daniel ducked through.
* * * * * * * * * *
Sam stirred her cocoa and took a depressed sip, the hot sweetness of the drink doing nothing to dissolve the knot of anxiety in her stomach or the tense muscles in her shoulders. She took a deep breath, but there didn't seem to be enough oxygen in the whole world to calm her completely.
Teal'c slid gracefully into the chair across from her, giving her the kind of look a lion tamer might give one of his more troublesome lions. "Major Carter."
"Hey, Teal'c." She swirled the cocoa around in her cup. "I'm sorry I got mad at you earlier."
Teal'c shrugged. "It is of no importance. Time will tell whether or not my decision was a good one."
Sam glanced up at him over the rim of her mug. "So you admit you sent Daniel after the Colonel?"
Teal'c gave her an amused look. Sam winced. "Sorry. It's just... I hate being here and having them be out there. I hate not knowing."
Teal'c inclined his head. "I understand. This situation is reminding me strongly of when you and O'Neill were lost in Antarctica. It is not a comfortable similarity."
Sam made a face. "I bet." She sat down her half-empty mug and stared at it. After a moment, Teal'c picked it up and took a sip.
"We will get them back. Or they will get themselves back. Either way, we will be reunited." He drained the mug.
Sam had to smile a little. When Teal'c said things like that, you just had to believe him. It was impossible not to. "Because that's the way it has to be?"
Teal'c gave her a rare smile. "Yes."
* * * * * * * * * *
One of two things would result from his rescue attempt, Daniel decided. Either he would succeed and the SG team that finally made it through the Gate would find both of them waiting, or his back muscles would seize up completely and he'd die of starvation in this little hidden tunnel.
Little, of course, being the operative word. He had the choice of crawling, which made his knees and wrists hurt, or walking bent nearly double, which was killing his back.
He dropped to his knees and stretched his back carefully, twisting at the waist to try and loosen up some of his painfully cramped muscles. It was amazing how much longer the trip from the temple to the castle seemed to take when he wasn't walking out in the clear night air.
He rose and continued on his way. By his calculations, he should be coming to the castle and presumably therefore the end of the tunnel any time now. His flashlight danced ahead of him, barely illuminating the floor in front of his feet as he went. He'd debated using the light at all, but after a few stumbles on the uneven stone passageway sent him sprawling in the impressively thick dust, he'd given up and turned it on. He was so dirty at this point that anyone searching for him would probably have to trip over him in order to distinguish him from his surroundings anyway.
Even though he was expecting the passageway to end, he was caught by surprise and nearly walked straight into the wall when it did. He stopped a few inches from the unyielding stone and looked around.
There was no door on the wall he was facing, at least not one he could see. The passageway stretched on into the darkness on either side of him, and after a pause he turned and went left for no other reason than it felt right. After a few yards, it occurred to him he could hear sounds coming from somewhere. He clicked off his flashlight and stood still, listening intently.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a faint source of light on the wall to his right. Edging closer, he discovered a tiny peephole around the level of his knees, conveniently placed to look through while sitting. He crouched down and peered through.
What appeared to his eyes was a wine cellar of some sort, presumably located beneath the kitchens. He could hear the bustle and crash of dishes and pots coming from above, and see a dim figure moving between the racks of barrels.
"Did you find it?" A voice called faintly from the kitchen.
"No, but I got one just as good," the shadow responded, and headed in the direction of what Daniel presumed to be the stairs up.
Daniel smiled to himself. Goa'uld vineyards. Who knew?
He continued on, trailing his fingers along the stone by his knees. He found a few more peepholes by touch, looking into unlit chambers, and then the passage turned right. Glancing ahead, he could see several small yellow circles of light illuminating the dusty stone floor. He hurried forward.
The first one looked out onto an empty hallway lit with torches. Daniel scanned the area for anything informative, but found nothing.
The second peephole proved to be quite useful. It was a guardroom, populated by several Jaffa playing some sort of game with carved tiles and a circle drawn in chalk on the table. In the back of the room, he could make out the First Prime and the head priest from the temple, watching the game with bored disinterest. The priest glanced at an hourglass in a niche along the wall and rose to his feet.
"Come," he said to the First Prime. "Enough time has passed. Let us see how the Tau'ri fares."
The two of them headed through a door on Daniel's left into what he guessed was a hallway running parallel with his own clandestine tunnel. He scrambled along the passageway, trying to keep up with them.
The next peephole, which he glanced through briefly before scrambling after the sounds of the First Prime and high priest, looked from underneath what Daniel presumed was a bed or bench into a small cell. The room was dark and empty, only illuminated by the light from a small barred window in the heavy wooden door leading out into the corridor. Daniel caught a glimpse of the First Prime's metal helmet as they passed.
They came to a halt several cells down the corridor. This cell was brightly lit, and there was a blanket hanging over the edge of the bed. Daniel watched the two men enter the room and approach the bed, stopping just short of the blanket.
"What's wrong with him?" The First Prime's voice inquired. One of the pairs of legs turned slightly, and the hem of the priest's robe dipped as he bent to check on the bed's occupant.
"Too much. We will have to wait for him to sleep it off. I doubt any harm was done."
"Will it still work?"
The robe rose as the priest straightened. "I presume so. As I said earlier, I have no experience in matters such as these. Let us return later, and we will see how he is."
"Very well." The legs turned and walked towards the door. There was a creak and a bang as the door opened and shut, then silence.
Daniel rested his forehead against the stone, thinking furiously. Okay. He needed to get Jack out. He had his gun, his knife, a bandanna, and a working knowledge of the secret tunnels in the fortress. He needed a way into the cell. He had... not much to help him with that particular problem.
He banged his head lightly against the wall and then straightened, switching on his flashlight. Maybe, just maybe, there was a door here like the one in the temple...
He ran his fingers over the stone, up one side and down another. Nothing. He tested the top edge. No. Bottom? No - wait! There, to the side, a rough patch.
He flattened himself against the floor until his face was a few inches from the base of the wall, shining his light on the rough patch. Yes - a symbol just like the one in the temple. Daniel placed his hand flat against the stone and pushed.
There was a minute grating noise, and then nothing. Daniel pushed harder. Still nothing. He scooted around until his back was flat against the opposite wall, braced one foot against the stone, and pushed until his muscles began to quiver and he could feel his heartbeat in his temples.
No luck. The stone refused to budge further.
Daniel slumped panting against the wall and stared glumly at what should have been an open door. He played his light across the rough surface, finding the darker mortar denoting the outline of the door, and after a moment got up and began chipping halfheartedly at the mortar with his knife. It came away in large, crumbly chunks and he started feeling a little better. Maybe if he could clear out all the mortar, there would be some way of shifting the door.
He hacked away the mortar on one side and moved to the bottom, attacking the material there a little more gingerly because he wasn't sure what mechanisms might be concealed near the opening-stone.
There was a click, and the door opened.
Daniel stared stupidly at it for a full minute, his knife still gripped firmly in one hand.
Okay then. Open sesame.
He edged forward and eased the door open. It opened out and he was grateful for the cover the bed afforded him as he wriggled through the door on his stomach and into the cell.
Jack was lying on his back on the bed, still in uniform but minus his vest, one arm flung out to the side. Further examination of that arm revealed a tiny puncture wound which Daniel presumed was from the drug. Jack's face was bruised, but his pulse was steady and his breathing sounded okay, so Daniel eased him off the bed and dragged him under to the secret passageway, holding him by the collar of his jacket. It was kind of a tight squeeze getting both of them through the opening, but the corridor opened up a bit beyond that and he was able to shift Jack against the far wall and still have room to work with the door.
He crawled back into the cell, checking nervously out the barred window into the corridor. It was empty, and he could hear the dull but reassuringly unalarmed murmur of the guards playing their game. He snatched the blanket off the bed and dove back through to the secret passageway, dragging the door shut behind him.
He rested for a moment in the corridor, one hand on Jack's chest to feel the comforting rise and fall of the other man's ribs. Then he spread out the blanket and rolled Jack gently into the center. Pulling Jack along that way would hopefully be much easier than grabbing him by his clothes or, God forbid, carrying him. Daniel got a firm hold of the blanket's edge and started down the passageway.
It was hard going. The blanket kept snagging on the uneven floor and stirred up a tremendous cloud of dust that had Daniel desperately trying not to cough or sneeze, and he was forced to walk awkwardly backwards to get any traction. Still, they were making fairly good progress, and Daniel was heartened to hear two servants complaining in the wine cellar about the amount of wine the First Prime and the high priest were drinking. If the two people behind Jack's interrogation were drunk, there was more of a chance that he and Jack could get back to Daniel's hideaway before Jack's disappearance was noted.
Daniel stopped to rest at the intersection of the passageways and took a small sip of water from his canteen. The dust was making his mouth dry and his throat scratchy. He leaned his head back against the wall and absently rubbed Jack's arm, more for his comfort than Jack's.
"It's dark," Jack commented suddenly. "That feels nice, though."
Daniel nearly had a heart attack. "Don't DO that!" he hissed when he could breathe again.
"Okay," Jack said equably, and passed out again.
Daniel kept going. Jack regained consciousness twice more on the journey back, each time taking Daniel by surprise. He was immensely grateful that Jack had stayed unconscious while they were in the section of the corridor with peepholes, because his friend didn't seem able to grasp the fact that silence - or at least extreme quiet - was necessary. This disturbed Daniel more than the non sequiturs Jack came out with each time he awoke, because it wasn't like Jack not to respond to danger and do his utmost to keep those with him from harm.
"We're not moving any more," Jack commented from the floor.
"Yeah. Be quiet for a sec, okay, Jack? I need to check something." Daniel stared at the closed temple door in dismay. There was no peephole, and even worse, no obvious way to make the door open. He pressed his ear to the stone, but couldn't hear anything. He eyed it speculatively. Maybe the knife trick would work here. He turned back to his friend.
"Jack, do you think you can stand? We're going to have to walk and I really don't feel like carrying you." Which was probably the understatement of the year. He was tired and sore, his head was throbbing and his nose was so stuffed up from the dust if felt like it was about to fall off his face.
"Nope." Jack waved one hand at the low ceiling. "Hit my head. Crown of marble." He giggled.
"If the ceiling were higher, could you?"
Jack gave this some thought. "Ye-ah..." he said slowly. "Walking, though. Dunno 'bout walking."
"We can work on that later," Daniel said, and turned his attention to the door. If he remembered correctly, the opening-stone had been right...about...
Click.
There. "Okay, Jack, we're going to try walking," he whispered. "You have to be quiet, okay? Really quiet. No talking."
"'Sboring," Jack pouted.
Daniel took Jack's face between his hands and stared into his glassy eyes. "If you aren't quiet," he said, enunciating clearly, "we will be hurt. Do you understand? If you aren't quiet we'll be caught and killed."
Recognition flashed in Jack's eyes, and for a second he almost looked normal. "'Kay," he said softly. "Let's go."
Daniel grabbed Jack's arm and slung it about his neck, unholstering his Berretta and holding it ready in one hand. They slipped through the door into the temple, remarkably silent for their uncoordinated clumsiness. Daniel propped Jack up against the wall and closed the door, then tiptoed over to check the rest of the temple. It appeared to be empty.
"Okay. We're going to go outside now. Can you walk on your own?"
Jack blinked, stood up, and fell over. Daniel cursed under his breath. There was no way he was going to be able to get Jack down the loose scree of the ravine... or rather, there was no way he'd be able to get him back up once they got down. The way he saw it, they could either stay here in the tunnels and pray the Jaffa didn't figure out how Jack had escaped, or take their chances with the bridge. It had been unguarded the last time he'd seen it, and if it was still dark outside...
He looped Jack's arm around his neck again and pulled him towards the entrance.
Part Two is here
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, H/C
SUMMARY: Jack, Daniel, and a bit of a role reversal.
SPOILERS: Window of Opportunity, Serpent's Lair, Solitudes
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The speech Daniel gives on cults and the ritual burial of objects was taken from the book 'Archaeology: Theories, Methods and Practice', third edition, by Colin Renfrew and Paul Bahn, page 408.
HERO FOR A DAY
Blink.
Ow.
Blink.
Ow.
Slowly, Daniel's eyes focused. It seemed to take a very long time, and was complicated by the fact that his glasses appeared to be gone. He could see...dirt, and some scrubby grass stems, and...that was about it.
So, he wasn't in the infirmary. Tentatively, he began a catalog of senses.
Eyes: check.
Head: ow. Best not to think about it too much.
Neck: still there.
Ears: fine, although the left one seemed to have dirt in it.
Torso: lying on something uncomfortable, but otherwise seemed all right.
Right arm: in one piece.
Left arm: couldn't feel it. That probably wasn't good.
Right hand: holding something. He thought.
Left hand: see left arm.
Right leg: fine.
Left leg: fine.
Other important anatomical bits better not named aloud: unhappy but there.
Slowly, and with more than a little trepidation, Daniel managed to roll over onto his back, which immediately began to sting pointedly. His head swam miserably and his left arm began to tingle. He was beginning to understand that he'd been lying on it, which accounted for the ache in his ribcage and the lack of circulation. Cautiously, he trailed his fingertips lightly over his forehead, and winced when they came away bloodstained. He felt sick.
He lay there in the grass letting himself wake up a bit more, and then finally trusted himself to sit up. Janet would be proud-he was moving slowly and respecting his limitations. He immediately had to lean to one side and throw up, but after a moment the sickness passed and the horizon stopped dancing long enough for him to look around.
The first thing he found were his glasses, lying a few feet away. The left-hand ear piece had snapped off, and the lens on the same side was cracked, but he put them on anyway. They balanced awkwardly on his nose and aggravated his raging headache, so he took them off again and slipped them into a vest pocket, continuing his survey of the surrounding area. Where he had been lying there was a darkened patch of blood-soaked earth, apparently from him. He touched his head gently again, nearly braining himself with the gun in his right hand, and was relieved to find that the bleeding had mostly stopped. He had a sneaking suspicion that was due at least in part to the large amount of dirt crusting the left side of his face.
He eyed the gun in his hand suspiciously. He had no clue what it was doing there, but figured that its presence at least meant his injury probably hadn't been due to carelessness or clumsiness on his part. Small comfort there, because there was something very important missing from the alternating forest/plains scene before his eyes.
SG-1 was conspicuously not present.
Oh, not good. So, so, SO not good.
For a moment he just sat there, trying not to panic, and then it occurred to him that maybe sitting in the middle of a field in plain sight when he knew some type of battle had at least temporarily scattered his team probably wasn't the brightest thing he'd ever done. He staggered to his feet, still clutching his gun, and weaved his way over to the tree line, where he could be sick in the bushes and fall down for a little bit. He slid down to the forest floor and propped himself up against the convenient trunk of an immense alien redwood wannabe, sliding his pistol shakily back into its holster. He fumbled left-handed for his radio, relieved to find it still tucked neatly into his vest pocket.
"Jack?" he said, and was relieved to hear his voice was steady. "Sam? Teal'c? Can anyone hear me?" There was no response. Wearily, he let his hand fall back into his lap.
Okay, Daniel, he said to himself in his best Jack-voice, what do you have, what do you need?
Well, he needed information. He had no memory of any kind of attack. As far as he was concerned, his day had made an alarming and unexplained leap from the briefing this morning to waking up facedown in the dirt on another planet with a bleeding head wound.
Okay, so he needed memories and he probably had a concussion. Peachy. What else?
He needed his team, needed to know if they were okay, where they were, and what they were doing. Why they had left him, injured as he was. They wouldn't have abandoned him if they could have helped it - Jack was almost pathological about enforcing his no-one-gets-left-behind credo.
All right, so basically what you need is information. Now how are you going to get it?
Daniel leaned his aching head back against the tree trunk. That could be a problem. He could hardly go stumbling through the woods yelling for his teammates. Blearily, he checked his watch. If he recalled the briefing correctly - and he wasn't entirely sure he did - General Hammond would be checking in with them at the gate in about six hours. If he could just find the gate, maybe the General could tell him what was going on. At the very least, he might run into more members of his team.
Of course, if he'd lost more than a day, there was no telling when the General was going to check in again...
He shook his head to dislodge that thought and nearly lost his battle against dry heaves instead. He'd just have to cross that bridge when he came to it.
He lurched to his feet, clinging grimly to a convenient tree branch until the world stopped doing the tango. He'd better find someplace good to hole up until he could get to the gate. If for some reason he couldn't make contact he'd need somewhere to spend the night, and if he ran into whoever was apparently trying to kill him a bolt hole could prove invaluable.
"How'm I doing so far, Jack?" he asked a nearby bush, and made his way gingerly through the trees towards what seemed to be a path in the distance. He didn't know what direction he should be going in exactly; he'd just taken a moment to remember which way he'd been lying when he came to and how he would have had to be standing to fall in such a position, and then headed in the direction he had hypothetically been facing.
Well, it was worth a shot, anyway. And it was better than flipping a coin. Especially since he didn't have one.
The tramping of armor-clad feet startled him out of his reverie. Oh, he knew that sound. There was nothing quite so distinctive as the noise a Jaffa patrol made when it was heading in your direction.
He darted for the trees, ducking around behind the massive trunk of a dead tree and pressing himself flat against the rotting bark. The move made his eyes blur and his head feel as if someone was trying to excavate his frontal lobe with an ice pick, but the rush of adrenaline kept him quiet and focused and on his feet. He held his breath, listening as the Jaffa marched closer...closer....and past. He relaxed slightly against the tree as the sounds of the Jaffa patrol faded into the distance.
Still wary, he edged around the tree, keeping as close to the trunk as he could. He peered back down the path the patrol had taken, the distant flash of sun on armor confirming his Jaffa theory. He crept further around the trunk, checking out the path as thoroughly as possible...and almost had a heart attack and died on the spot when his foot went out from under him, straight through a gap between the roots of the tree and into a hole.
He thudded down, the impact of the back of his skull against the dirt doing nothing for his headache. Slowly, he sat up, his heartbeat loud in his ears. If his foot was somehow trapped between the roots he might as well give up now, because one Jaffa patrol usually meant others and there was no way he'd be able to conceal himself this close to their route.
He gave his foot an experimental twist and a was rewarded by a definite loosening of the earth around his ankle. Keeping an ear out for any more patrols, he probed the area. At first glance it seemed that he had stepped straight into some sort of animal hole dug between the roots of the tree, but that didn't explain his freedom of movement unless it was an awfully big animal with an awfully small front door.
He dug his fingers into the dirt and managed to loosen a few handfuls, gratefully extracting his foot. Curious now, he leaned closer and peered down, absently unclipping the flashlight from his vest and angling it down into the hole. It seemed to open up considerably below the first few inches of soil, and it occurred to him he might be able to dig it out a bit, maybe make a sort of pit that he could pull branches over and crouch down in. It wasn't the best, but it was better than nothing.
He clawed at the earth some more, carefully pushing the freshly dug soil down into the hole instead of leaving it in tell-tale mounds on the forest floor. Once he had widened the opening as far as it would go, and hoping he would be able to fit through the confining roots, he mustered his courage and poked his hand down, shining his flashlight about. No hungry animals with alien rabies attacked him and he relaxed slightly.
He withdrew his hand and made his way gingerly feet first through the hole, twisting his shoulders awkwardly to make the most of the irregularly-shaped gap. Finally, his head throbbing in time with his heartbeat, he crouched down and got his first real look at his discovery.
It wasn't so much a hole as it was a long narrow cave - a dry underground stream bed undercutting the dead forest giant above. The floor was made entirely of rounded stream pebbles shading into sand on either bank. Small stringy roots hung from the ceiling, reminding him strongly of strands of hair.
He couldn't believe his luck. Since it was a stream bed, no animals were likely to want to take up residence here, and as long as it didn't rain, he should be okay. It was big enough to sit up in and not bang his head, and reasonably comfortable, as far as caves went. He allowed himself a small smile of success and wriggled back out, casting about until he found several innocuous but suitably camouflaging branches he could prop artistically over his entrance. That done, he settled himself in the cave and took stock of his injuries.
He couldn't really do much about the cut on his head besides wipe away the extra dirt with his bandanna and a little water from his canteen. He thought he should have some antiseptic wipes somewhere and spent several minutes searching for them before remembering they were in the pack that had vanished with his teammates and his memory. Fortunately, he did have several packets of aspirin, which he dry swallowed gratefully, reminding himself he'd have to thank Janet when he got back to the SGC. For reasons he'd never cared to dwell on, his vest pockets always seemed to hold an inordinate amount of aspirin.
Next he eased off his vest and jacket. He had no idea why his back hurt the way it did, but he guessed it probably wasn't a good sign. As he put down the vest, a gleam of metal caught his eye. He clicked on his flashlight, angling the vest towards the light, and was astonished to discover two bullets, mashed and flattened, caught in the protective kevlar weave of the vest. He reached around, gently probing his back, and winced when he identified two definite sources of pain.
Huh. So someone had tried to shoot him? That didn't fit at all. Jaffa didn't use projectile weapons; it was one of the things they had used to their advantage before. Daniel had a momentary mental image of a rapid-fire fully-automatic staff weapon and shuddered. He frowned suddenly, hefting the vest to shoulder height. One of the bullets had hit low on the right side of his back; the next higher to the left. If he continued the trend upwards, that would leave him with a third bullet... he winced. Right by his head.
He touched his head wound lightly. He couldn't really tell what it looked like without a mirror, but judging by the pain and the stiffness of the dried blood in his hair it was a long, shallow wound across his temple, exactly what one would expect from a bullet's near-miss.
He swallowed hard. It was inexpressibly eerie, sitting there in a cramped little cave on an alien world he had no memory of getting to, trying to put together the pieces of a near-fatal encounter he'd had but didn't remember. A sudden wave of longing washed over him. He wanted his team. He wanted to be home, curled up on the sofa with a book and a mug of coffee, secure in the knowledge that Jack, Sam and Teal'c were all a phone call away. Hell, he'd even take sitting in the briefing room, listening to Sam expound on wormhole physics, watching Jack try to get Teal'c to play a surreptitious game of hangman. He shivered, hugging the vest to him, and suddenly felt very scared, very vulnerable, and very, very alone. He closed his eyes. It'll be okay, he told himself resolutely. Everything will be fine.
He awoke slowly, clinging to oblivion in lieu of painkillers and safety. He'd fallen asleep propped up against the wall of the cave and his neck was sore. He rubbed at it, grimacing, and tried again to resurrect the blank area between the briefing and waking up in the field. It still wouldn't come.
He sat up, slipping his vest back on, and hooked his radio earpiece into his ear out of habit more than anything else. It wasn't like there was anyone to talk -
His eyes flew open. Crap! What had he been thinking, going to sleep? He still had to find the goddamn Gate!
He scrambled for the entrance, shoved aside the camouflaging branches, hauled himself halfway out...and found himself staring at the distinctive metal armor of a Jaffa.
Daniel froze in an awkward half-crouch, one knee planted on the outside ground, hands gripping the roots at the sides of the entrance. The Jaffa was facing away from him, evidently waiting for someone on the path, and apparently hadn't noticed him yet. Daniel held his breath. All the Jaffa had to do was turn around and he would be in plain view.
His earpiece chose that moment to come to life. "Colonel O'Neill, this is General Hammond. Please respond."
Daniel held his breath as the Jaffa shifted. Every nerve Daniel had was screaming at him to get out of sight and answer Hammond before he gave up, but he was too afraid to move any further in case the Jaffa noticed him this time.
"O'Neill, this is Hammond. Please respond."
Another Jaffa came into view down the path and the first straightened, saluting. I'm not here I'm not here I'm-not-here-I'm-not-here... Daniel chanted silently. The Jaffa met up in front of him, conversing in low tones. They were too far away for Daniel to see their insignia, but there was no way they would miss him if they so much as glanced in the right direction.
"O'Neill, this is Hammond. Respond if you are able."
The two Jaffa turned and continued down the path, still talking. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hammond ou - "
Daniel lunged for his radio. "Wait! Wait! I'm here! I'm here! I can hear you!" He kept his eyes anxiously on the departing Jaffa, but they didn't seem to have overheard his frantic hail.
There was a pause and Daniel was afraid he'd been too late. "Colonel O'Neill?" Hammond's voice came finally, uncertainly.
"No, no, I don't know where Jack is. This is Daniel. Can you hear me?" He pulled himself the rest of the way out of his hole, eyes riveted on the path.
"Doctor Jackson?" General Hammond's voice was frankly astonished.
"Yeah, it's me - what's going on? What happened?"
"Daniel?"
"Sam!" Relief washed through him. That was at least one of his teammates well and accounted for. "Thank god. Are you okay? Where is everyone?"
"Teal'c and I made it back to the Gate, but we were separated from the Colonel. Daniel, what's your situation? Are you all right? Can you make it to the Gate?" She sounded just as shocked as General Hammond to hear his voice.
Daniel rubbed his forehead absently, wincing when he accidentally touched the edge of his wound. "I don't know. I don't know where the Gate is."
"What do you mean? Are you lost?"
Daniel sighed. "No, I just can't remember where it is. I got knocked on the head - everything since the briefing is a big blank. Sam, what happened to us?"
"Doctor Jackson, is your position secure for now?"
"Yes sir, I managed to find a place to lie low."
"All right. Stay there and we'll send someone for you. It may take a few hours - SG-9 came back with a virus and the mountain is on twenty-four-hour lockdown until we're sure it's safe."
Daniel cursed silently. "Okay. There are a lot of Jaffa around but none of them seem too alert. They haven't even gotten close enough for me to see who they're working for."
"We were surprised by Cronos' Jaffa," Teal'c's voice rumbled over the radio. "They managed to obtain one of our weapons during the fight and used it upon us as we fled. We believed you had been killed or we would not have left you behind."
Well, that answered a few questions, at least. If they'd been running for their lives and seen him go down, there wouldn't have been time to stop and check his pulse. "I know, Teal'c. It's okay. Nobody knows what happened to Jack?"
"We do not. But there is a fortress a short distance from the Gate which I believe to have been one of Cronos' summer palaces. If O'Neill was captured, he may have been taken there."
"Teal'c!" He heard Sam exclaim faintly. "He's injured, he can't..." her voice faded into the background as she stepped away from the microphone, still scolding Teal'c.
"Doctor Jackson, stay where you are. Do not attempt to rescue Colonel O'Neill at this time. We'll send you help as soon as we can. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
"We'll dial back up in ten hours if we haven't gotten a team together before then. Do you copy?"
"Ten hours, yes sir."
"Hammond out."
The radio went dead but Daniel kept his hand by the call button, thinking furiously. Okay, so Sam and Teal'c were all right. That was a huge weight off his mind, to be sure, but Jack was still missing. He bit his lip. General Hammond was probably right to have ordered him not to rescue Jack - Daniel was, after all, an archaeologist, not a soldier - but the thought of Jack imprisoned by Cronos' Jaffa... he shook his head. He didn't like the idea of leaving Jack in their hands for any longer than was necessary. Surely his help would be better than no help at all. Maybe he could just snoop around a little once it got dark, try to find out if Jack had actually been captured. Then he wouldn't be rescuing Jack exactly, he'd just be finding out information. Which was his job, after all. And once he had information, he could tell the rescue team where to go. That was a good plan, wasn't it?
He nodded his head decisively. Yes, that was what he'd do. He'd wait for dark, because he could use all the help he could get, and then try to find this fortress Teal'c had mentioned. The path was probably a good place to start; if it didn't lead to the fortress maybe it would lead to the Stargate.
In the meantime, he thought ruefully, a little more aspirin was probably a good idea.
Janet heard them coming all the way from the elevators.
"...I'm not saying I don't trust him, Teal'c. You know I trust him. It's just that I don't think sending him off to rescue the Colonel was a good idea."
"The longer O'Neill spends under the custody of the Jaffa the greater the chance that he will be harmed in some manner. As we cannot rescue him ourselves, Daniel Jackson is the best alternative."
Puzzled, Janet got up from her microscope and stepped out of the infirmary to intercept them. "What are you two talking about?"
Sam's face lit up. "Janet, guess what! Daniel's alive! We radioded P8X-425 and managed to raise him. He's okay, got a knock to the head, but seemed pretty much compos mentis besides the fact he couldn't remember anything since the briefing."
Janet shook her head in amazement. "That man has more lives than a pack of cats! What about Colonel O'Neill? Did you talk to him too?"
Sam shot Teal'c a quelling look. "No, we didn't. We don't know where he is."
"He is being held in a fortress by Cronos' Jaffa," Teal'c countered, unperturbed.
Sam sighed in exasperation and continued doggedly with the argument Janet's arrival had interrupted. "We don't know that, Teal'c."
"He did not respond to our hails. That is the most logical assumption."
"Just because he didn't answer doesn't mean he's being held prisoner. He could be injured, or just unable to answer." Sam pointed out.
"All the more reason for Daniel Jackson to search for him," Teal'c said reasonably.
"Okay, slow down," Janet said, forestalling Sam's rejoinder. "General Hammond sent Daniel after Colonel O'Neill? By himself?"
"No," Sam ground out. "Teal'c did."
"Teal'c did?" Janet repeated in confusion.
"I did not."
"Yes, you did!"
"I told Daniel Jackson of my theory. Whether or not he rescues O'Neill is his decision."
"Teal'c!" Sam said angrily. "You told him that deliberately because you knew he'd go after the Colonel!"
"I informed him of his options. You believe we should have kept him in ignorance?"
"Yes!" Sam almost shouted. "He would never leave the Colonel like that and you know it. He'd drag himself over to the damn fortress broken and bleeding if he had to! We wouldn't have sent him off alone on a rescue mission even if he wasn't injured. We don't even know if he's armed!"
"Nor do we know he is not."
"That's not what I meant and you know it!"
"Enough!" Janet broke in, using the tone she used when Cassie started whining. "Teal'c believes he's right, you believe you're right. That's okay. What's done is done. Let's leave this conversation for when - WHEN - they get back, all right?"
Giving Teal'c a mutinous glare, Sam nodded and crossed her arms. "Fine."
"Teal'c?"
"Very well."
"Okay then. Now you two go keep yourselves occupied until we hear more from Daniel. Stay out of each other's hair - if I hear you arguing again I'll separate you, is that clear?"
"Yes, Mom."
Janet rolled her eyes. "Now scoot. The sooner I figure out this virus the sooner you can go after Daniel and the Colonel."
A few hours later, refreshed by another nap and the last of his aspirin, Daniel crept quietly through the forest. He was sticking to the path for the time being because it was easier to follow in the dark, but he listened intently for any indication of other travelers as he moved. So far he had been lucky; there were no patrols out. Security, on the whole, seemed to be pretty relaxed. As he got nearer the fortress, of course, there would probably be more guards, but for now the woods were almost deserted.
A glimmer of light between the trees made him slow his steps and edge more towards the side of the road, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. A few careful moments later, he reached a bend in the path.
Ahead of him, the trees thinned and the ground sloped down to a wide ravine spanned by a slender, strangely delicate-looking bridge. There were lit torches on either side of the bridge but no guards that he could pick out. On the other bank, barely visible through the trees, Daniel could see the lights of a large building, presumably the fortress. Okay. So the ravine acted as a sort of moat. That might explain the lack of guards, at least.
Daniel squinted at the bridge. He couldn't see anyone guarding it on his side, but without his glasses the other side was too fuzzy for him to be sure about. He bit his lip in frustration. He'd have to find another way across; he didn't want to risk getting caught if he didn't even know Jack was being held captive.
He retreated back into the trees and continued in the general direction of the ravine, angling back until he found it again several hundred yards above the bridge. He made his way to the edge, lying down and running his hand over the wall of the ravine. It seemed pretty steep, and was comprised of a loose pebbly soil that would crumble under his weight. He sighed irritably.
General Hammond's perusal of Doctor Frasier's latest report on SG-9's virus was interrupted by a firm knock at his office door.
"Come in," he called, and wasn't in the least surprised to see Teal'c enter.
"General Hammond."
"Teal'c. What can I do for you?"
"I wish to return to P8X-425."
Hammond sighed. He'd been expecting this, but the expectation didn't make his decision any easier. "As soon as the quarantine is over."
Teal'c's expression didn't flicker. "I am a Jaffa. My symbiote protects me from the virus. I do not need to be quarantined."
Which was exactly the response Hammond had been expecting. It was like a choreographed dance: if one member of SG-1 was in trouble, the other three would bang down his office door demanding to help. He would tell Teal'c he couldn't leave. Teal'c would come up with several alternate suggestions, all delivered in a carefully neutral and imminently reasonable tone of voice that never failed to remind Hammond that before defecting from Apophis' side, Teal'c had commanded armies.
"I'm sorry, Teal'c, but I can't allow that."
"I understand," Teal'c said calmly, making no move to go. Hammond could feel it coming; another reasonable suggestion that he'd be so tempted to give in to... To give them credit, of course, much of the time those suggestions were actually damn good ones, and occasionally even implementable.
"I have not seen my son Ry'ac in several weeks." Teal'c's face could have been carved from stone, and Hammond had the sudden urge to ask the man if Colonel O'Neill had taught him to play poker yet. "It would please me greatly to pay a visit to him in the Land of Light."
Yep, there it was. Reasonable Suggestion Number Four Billion...And Climbing. He wouldn't be sending Teal'c on a solo suicide mission, he'd be sending him off on a picnic with his son. And of course it was just a coincidence that from the Land of Light Teal'c could Gate anywhere he pleased. He had to say, though, the guilt trip was new. Teal'c must have been taking lessons from Doctor Jackson or Major Carter.
"Teal'c, until we know exactly how this virus is transmitted, I can't let anyone through the Gate for any reason, symbiote or not. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."
"Very well." Teal'c turned to go. "I will be ready to depart when the time comes."
Of that Hammond had no doubt. He watched Teal'c's resolutely stiff back vanish through the doorway and turned his attention back to Doctor Frasier's report, which did nothing more useful than tell him she didn't know anything.
He was interrupted by another knock at the door. "Come in."
"General Hammond."
"Major Carter."
"Sir, I was thinking...if we went in Haz-Mat suits..."
And the dance began again.
Daniel eyed the fortress carefully from his crouched position behind a rotting log. It was up on a slight hill, all stone and metal spires stabbing the night. Light flared from arrow-slit windows, reminding him of a tale from King Arthur's legend. Sir Daniel and the Castle, maybe, or perhaps Sir Daniel Gets Killed By Fifty Guards Before He Gets Within a Hundred Feet of His Friend.
Oh, yes. He'd found the guards all right.
He watched them pace back and forth on the battlements. The big main door of the fortress was shut tight. The windows were tiny. If he was Robin Hood, maybe, he could have shot an arrow up to a tower balcony and climbed in that way, but just because he'd read 'A Gest of Robyn Hode' in the original Middle English didn't mean he could do the acrobatics. There was a small village of dilapidated huts huddled around the outer walls of the fortress, but none close enough to the wall to be used as a means of crossing.
He let his forehead rest on the log with a thump. These guards were not relaxed and bored. These guards were alert and ready to shoot invading archaeologists. And while he'd gone up against worse odds before - taking out two motherships on their way to destroy Earth came to mind - he'd always done it with two heavily armed Air Force Officers and a pissed-off ex-Jaffa behind him.
His heart heavy, Daniel scrambled back from the log and ducked into the woods, heading back towards the ravine. He'd noticed some other lights through the forest on his way over and he thought it worthwhile to check them out, although unless they belonged to a special unguarded Tau'ri holding cell, he didn't really see how it would be any great help.
The second batch of lights turned out to be from a temple of some sort, built in the same style as the fortress itself. Intrigued despite himself, Daniel made his way silently over the uneven ground and edged into the courtyard, keeping to the shadows, and crept up to the door. The interior of the temple was large and ornate, bordered by pillars and alcoves and practically spraypainted with the ubiquitous golden Goa'uld writing detailing the deeds of the mighty Cronos. There were no guards in sight. Daniel relaxed a fraction.
"...but I fail to see why you require my help in this matter, Thersus," said a voice from within the temple. Daniel jumped and ducked, nearly losing his footing in his surprise. A man in priestly robes had just entered the temple from a room at the back, followed by a tall Jaffa.
"He refuses to talk. I would have my men persuade him, but my lord Cronos does not wish the Tau'ri to be irreperably damaged until he is here in person to enjoy it." The Jaffa sounded bored. Daniel gritted his teeth.
"I see," said the priest, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I do have a small amount of ser'cha in my possession. It would not be enough to work upon a Jaffa, but on a human it should perform admirably."
"You have never tried it on a human before?"
The priest shook his head. "I would have liked to, but I do not have it in such abundance that I can waste it on experiments. We will have to try a few different doses before we find the right one. Does my lord Cronos arrive soon?"
"He will be a few days. Sokhar is testing his boundaries again."
The priest sneered. "Fool. He does not realize with whom he toys. Come with me, I will get you your ser'cha." The priest deposited something behind the altar and the two of them disappeared into the back of the temple.
Daniel sank down to crouch on the ground by the door, thinking hard. This ser'cha stuff sounded like a truth drug of some sort, and not one that Jack should be coming in contact with if there was a way around it. He rested his face in his hands, thinking furiously.
The fortress was impregnable, at least by him. To get in he would need either a convincing disguise or invisibility, neither of which he had. He could wait for the SGC to mount a rescue, but in the time it took them to come through, Jack could be forced to tell the Jaffa any number of things. At least Cronos wasn't due to appear for another few days. Daniel made a rude gesture though the temple door in the general direction of the story of Cronos castrating his father Uranus and felt marginally better.
He sighed. The only thing he could think of was to go find the Gate, pray it was unguarded, and somehow convince General Hammond to send him a whole bunch of C4 and maybe one of those nifty grenade launcher things.
Right. Like that was going to happen.
Dispirited, he got to his feet and slunk back into the shadows. A tiny sliver of a moon was rising in the distance, and its shadows fell across the uneven ground before him, throwing it into high relief. He'd have to be careful on his way back.
He made his way across the lumpy terrain, automatically noting the symmetry of the shadows. Obviously a village had surrounded the temple once; he could see a broad clear area that was probably a street, and another that had been a courtyard of some kind. He frowned, the archaeological part of his brain that wasn't preoccupied with Jack's predicament becoming intrigued. Why had the village been abandoned? It had obviously been gone for quite some time. He tried to remember if Teal'c had ever mentioned a sharp decline in Cronos' power that would have led to the abandoning of the planet for any period of time, but couldn't recall anything.
There was something niggling at the back of his brain, some clue he was missing. Was it the fortress? No, that had seemed fairly straightforward. The temple? Nothing there was out of the -
Wait. Wait just a minute. The story of Cronos' unfilial recreation had been laid out in typical golden Goa'uld style...except for one thing. It wasn't actually a part of the wall beneath it. It had instead been tacked on over the dull gray stone.
Daniel turned and jogged silently back to the doorway of the temple, glancing through. Yes, he'd been right; the story had definitely been added on later, which made him wonder if Cronos hadn't built the temple himself. Maybe the castle, the temple, and the first village had all been built a long time ago by the original inhabitants of the planet, and then Cronos had simply taken it over.
He wasn't quite sure what, if anything, he'd be able to do with that information, but it was the first thing that had felt promising all night. He'd been trying to think like a soldier before - maybe what he really needed to do right now was to think like an archaeologist.
He stepped back and looked at the building, really looked at it, comparing it to the fortress in his mind's eye. They were both old, large, made of stone, and reminded him of medieval European castles. It was odd, actually, that they were this far apart; he would have expected the temple to be part of the village around the castle. He arranged a map in his head, laying it out like an archaeological site survey. There was the fortress, high on a hill for defense, with the village around it and the ravine and bridge in the distance. Then there was the temple, off to the right, closer to the ravine.
His mind chose that moment to show him a picture of the ravine. He remembered the ravine floor, with its scrubby grass and stunted bushes growing over smooth pebbles...just like the underground stream that was his hiding place...
His eyes flew open. Of course! What would make a ravine? A river, dry now but maybe not always. Why put the temple far from the fortress but close to the river?
As a means of escape from the castle.
Which meant there had to be some secret way of getting from the fortress to the temple. The question was, where was it and did the Goa'uld know about it?
Casting nervous glances at the door where the priest and the Jaffa had vanished, Daniel crept in through the temple door and began examining the walls and floor. Logically, the secret passage would be on the side of the temple facing the fortress, so he began to scrutinize the stone, searching for cracks in the mortar or scratches on the floor that might indicate moving parts.
"...need to give it to him in small doses. I'd better come with you, just in case."
Daniel threw himself into one of the alcoves and pressed himself against the wall. A moment later, the priest and the Jaffa walked past, leaving through the main door into the courtyard. Daniel counted to ten to make sure they weren't coming back, and tried to remember how to breathe.
He began searching the temple more frantically. If the priest and the Jaffa were on their way to give Jack the drug, he was running out of time.
He ran his fingers over the walls, searching for irregularities in the stone, translating the text out of habit as he went along. He covered the wall facing the castle in short order and found nothing.
He cast a nervous glance at the room the priest and the Jaffa had been in. It was on the right side of the temple, but did he dare go in? What if there were other priests?
He stood for a moment, indecisive, then screwed up his courage and sidled up to the door. One way or another, he had to find Jack. This was no time to chicken out.
He listened for a few moments, crouched by the door, and heard nothing. Slowly, his heart in his mouth, he eased his way in.
The chamber was mostly empty, housing only a cot bed and a chest presumably containing the priest's belongings. The walls were bare of golden script and he wasted no time in beginning his examination. About halfway around the chamber, he noticed a few faint scratch marks on the floor.
He knelt down, tracing the grooves with his hands, and then stepped back from the wall. Yes, he could see it, now that he knew what to look for; a small square door, about waist height, distinguishable only by the slightly darker mortar around it.
He stepped forward and squinted at the stones, studying them for any indication of opening mechanisms, and tried not to get impatient with the amount of time it was taking. Being careless at this point would only mean more time before he could get to Jack. A stitch in time saves nine. Better be safe than sorry. Um... one man's ceiling is another man's floor?
Halfway down the wall on the left Daniel hit paydirt. There was a small, almost invisible mark scratched into the stone, although to his disappointment Daniel didn't recognize it from any of his twenty-three languages. He traced the symbol with one finger, then pushed the stone in hard. There was a grating sound of stone on stone that made Daniel very glad the temple was empty, and the little door swung open. Daniel ducked through.
Sam stirred her cocoa and took a depressed sip, the hot sweetness of the drink doing nothing to dissolve the knot of anxiety in her stomach or the tense muscles in her shoulders. She took a deep breath, but there didn't seem to be enough oxygen in the whole world to calm her completely.
Teal'c slid gracefully into the chair across from her, giving her the kind of look a lion tamer might give one of his more troublesome lions. "Major Carter."
"Hey, Teal'c." She swirled the cocoa around in her cup. "I'm sorry I got mad at you earlier."
Teal'c shrugged. "It is of no importance. Time will tell whether or not my decision was a good one."
Sam glanced up at him over the rim of her mug. "So you admit you sent Daniel after the Colonel?"
Teal'c gave her an amused look. Sam winced. "Sorry. It's just... I hate being here and having them be out there. I hate not knowing."
Teal'c inclined his head. "I understand. This situation is reminding me strongly of when you and O'Neill were lost in Antarctica. It is not a comfortable similarity."
Sam made a face. "I bet." She sat down her half-empty mug and stared at it. After a moment, Teal'c picked it up and took a sip.
"We will get them back. Or they will get themselves back. Either way, we will be reunited." He drained the mug.
Sam had to smile a little. When Teal'c said things like that, you just had to believe him. It was impossible not to. "Because that's the way it has to be?"
Teal'c gave her a rare smile. "Yes."
One of two things would result from his rescue attempt, Daniel decided. Either he would succeed and the SG team that finally made it through the Gate would find both of them waiting, or his back muscles would seize up completely and he'd die of starvation in this little hidden tunnel.
Little, of course, being the operative word. He had the choice of crawling, which made his knees and wrists hurt, or walking bent nearly double, which was killing his back.
He dropped to his knees and stretched his back carefully, twisting at the waist to try and loosen up some of his painfully cramped muscles. It was amazing how much longer the trip from the temple to the castle seemed to take when he wasn't walking out in the clear night air.
He rose and continued on his way. By his calculations, he should be coming to the castle and presumably therefore the end of the tunnel any time now. His flashlight danced ahead of him, barely illuminating the floor in front of his feet as he went. He'd debated using the light at all, but after a few stumbles on the uneven stone passageway sent him sprawling in the impressively thick dust, he'd given up and turned it on. He was so dirty at this point that anyone searching for him would probably have to trip over him in order to distinguish him from his surroundings anyway.
Even though he was expecting the passageway to end, he was caught by surprise and nearly walked straight into the wall when it did. He stopped a few inches from the unyielding stone and looked around.
There was no door on the wall he was facing, at least not one he could see. The passageway stretched on into the darkness on either side of him, and after a pause he turned and went left for no other reason than it felt right. After a few yards, it occurred to him he could hear sounds coming from somewhere. He clicked off his flashlight and stood still, listening intently.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a faint source of light on the wall to his right. Edging closer, he discovered a tiny peephole around the level of his knees, conveniently placed to look through while sitting. He crouched down and peered through.
What appeared to his eyes was a wine cellar of some sort, presumably located beneath the kitchens. He could hear the bustle and crash of dishes and pots coming from above, and see a dim figure moving between the racks of barrels.
"Did you find it?" A voice called faintly from the kitchen.
"No, but I got one just as good," the shadow responded, and headed in the direction of what Daniel presumed to be the stairs up.
Daniel smiled to himself. Goa'uld vineyards. Who knew?
He continued on, trailing his fingers along the stone by his knees. He found a few more peepholes by touch, looking into unlit chambers, and then the passage turned right. Glancing ahead, he could see several small yellow circles of light illuminating the dusty stone floor. He hurried forward.
The first one looked out onto an empty hallway lit with torches. Daniel scanned the area for anything informative, but found nothing.
The second peephole proved to be quite useful. It was a guardroom, populated by several Jaffa playing some sort of game with carved tiles and a circle drawn in chalk on the table. In the back of the room, he could make out the First Prime and the head priest from the temple, watching the game with bored disinterest. The priest glanced at an hourglass in a niche along the wall and rose to his feet.
"Come," he said to the First Prime. "Enough time has passed. Let us see how the Tau'ri fares."
The two of them headed through a door on Daniel's left into what he guessed was a hallway running parallel with his own clandestine tunnel. He scrambled along the passageway, trying to keep up with them.
The next peephole, which he glanced through briefly before scrambling after the sounds of the First Prime and high priest, looked from underneath what Daniel presumed was a bed or bench into a small cell. The room was dark and empty, only illuminated by the light from a small barred window in the heavy wooden door leading out into the corridor. Daniel caught a glimpse of the First Prime's metal helmet as they passed.
They came to a halt several cells down the corridor. This cell was brightly lit, and there was a blanket hanging over the edge of the bed. Daniel watched the two men enter the room and approach the bed, stopping just short of the blanket.
"What's wrong with him?" The First Prime's voice inquired. One of the pairs of legs turned slightly, and the hem of the priest's robe dipped as he bent to check on the bed's occupant.
"Too much. We will have to wait for him to sleep it off. I doubt any harm was done."
"Will it still work?"
The robe rose as the priest straightened. "I presume so. As I said earlier, I have no experience in matters such as these. Let us return later, and we will see how he is."
"Very well." The legs turned and walked towards the door. There was a creak and a bang as the door opened and shut, then silence.
Daniel rested his forehead against the stone, thinking furiously. Okay. He needed to get Jack out. He had his gun, his knife, a bandanna, and a working knowledge of the secret tunnels in the fortress. He needed a way into the cell. He had... not much to help him with that particular problem.
He banged his head lightly against the wall and then straightened, switching on his flashlight. Maybe, just maybe, there was a door here like the one in the temple...
He ran his fingers over the stone, up one side and down another. Nothing. He tested the top edge. No. Bottom? No - wait! There, to the side, a rough patch.
He flattened himself against the floor until his face was a few inches from the base of the wall, shining his light on the rough patch. Yes - a symbol just like the one in the temple. Daniel placed his hand flat against the stone and pushed.
There was a minute grating noise, and then nothing. Daniel pushed harder. Still nothing. He scooted around until his back was flat against the opposite wall, braced one foot against the stone, and pushed until his muscles began to quiver and he could feel his heartbeat in his temples.
No luck. The stone refused to budge further.
Daniel slumped panting against the wall and stared glumly at what should have been an open door. He played his light across the rough surface, finding the darker mortar denoting the outline of the door, and after a moment got up and began chipping halfheartedly at the mortar with his knife. It came away in large, crumbly chunks and he started feeling a little better. Maybe if he could clear out all the mortar, there would be some way of shifting the door.
He hacked away the mortar on one side and moved to the bottom, attacking the material there a little more gingerly because he wasn't sure what mechanisms might be concealed near the opening-stone.
There was a click, and the door opened.
Daniel stared stupidly at it for a full minute, his knife still gripped firmly in one hand.
Okay then. Open sesame.
He edged forward and eased the door open. It opened out and he was grateful for the cover the bed afforded him as he wriggled through the door on his stomach and into the cell.
Jack was lying on his back on the bed, still in uniform but minus his vest, one arm flung out to the side. Further examination of that arm revealed a tiny puncture wound which Daniel presumed was from the drug. Jack's face was bruised, but his pulse was steady and his breathing sounded okay, so Daniel eased him off the bed and dragged him under to the secret passageway, holding him by the collar of his jacket. It was kind of a tight squeeze getting both of them through the opening, but the corridor opened up a bit beyond that and he was able to shift Jack against the far wall and still have room to work with the door.
He crawled back into the cell, checking nervously out the barred window into the corridor. It was empty, and he could hear the dull but reassuringly unalarmed murmur of the guards playing their game. He snatched the blanket off the bed and dove back through to the secret passageway, dragging the door shut behind him.
He rested for a moment in the corridor, one hand on Jack's chest to feel the comforting rise and fall of the other man's ribs. Then he spread out the blanket and rolled Jack gently into the center. Pulling Jack along that way would hopefully be much easier than grabbing him by his clothes or, God forbid, carrying him. Daniel got a firm hold of the blanket's edge and started down the passageway.
It was hard going. The blanket kept snagging on the uneven floor and stirred up a tremendous cloud of dust that had Daniel desperately trying not to cough or sneeze, and he was forced to walk awkwardly backwards to get any traction. Still, they were making fairly good progress, and Daniel was heartened to hear two servants complaining in the wine cellar about the amount of wine the First Prime and the high priest were drinking. If the two people behind Jack's interrogation were drunk, there was more of a chance that he and Jack could get back to Daniel's hideaway before Jack's disappearance was noted.
Daniel stopped to rest at the intersection of the passageways and took a small sip of water from his canteen. The dust was making his mouth dry and his throat scratchy. He leaned his head back against the wall and absently rubbed Jack's arm, more for his comfort than Jack's.
"It's dark," Jack commented suddenly. "That feels nice, though."
Daniel nearly had a heart attack. "Don't DO that!" he hissed when he could breathe again.
"Okay," Jack said equably, and passed out again.
Daniel kept going. Jack regained consciousness twice more on the journey back, each time taking Daniel by surprise. He was immensely grateful that Jack had stayed unconscious while they were in the section of the corridor with peepholes, because his friend didn't seem able to grasp the fact that silence - or at least extreme quiet - was necessary. This disturbed Daniel more than the non sequiturs Jack came out with each time he awoke, because it wasn't like Jack not to respond to danger and do his utmost to keep those with him from harm.
"We're not moving any more," Jack commented from the floor.
"Yeah. Be quiet for a sec, okay, Jack? I need to check something." Daniel stared at the closed temple door in dismay. There was no peephole, and even worse, no obvious way to make the door open. He pressed his ear to the stone, but couldn't hear anything. He eyed it speculatively. Maybe the knife trick would work here. He turned back to his friend.
"Jack, do you think you can stand? We're going to have to walk and I really don't feel like carrying you." Which was probably the understatement of the year. He was tired and sore, his head was throbbing and his nose was so stuffed up from the dust if felt like it was about to fall off his face.
"Nope." Jack waved one hand at the low ceiling. "Hit my head. Crown of marble." He giggled.
"If the ceiling were higher, could you?"
Jack gave this some thought. "Ye-ah..." he said slowly. "Walking, though. Dunno 'bout walking."
"We can work on that later," Daniel said, and turned his attention to the door. If he remembered correctly, the opening-stone had been right...about...
Click.
There. "Okay, Jack, we're going to try walking," he whispered. "You have to be quiet, okay? Really quiet. No talking."
"'Sboring," Jack pouted.
Daniel took Jack's face between his hands and stared into his glassy eyes. "If you aren't quiet," he said, enunciating clearly, "we will be hurt. Do you understand? If you aren't quiet we'll be caught and killed."
Recognition flashed in Jack's eyes, and for a second he almost looked normal. "'Kay," he said softly. "Let's go."
Daniel grabbed Jack's arm and slung it about his neck, unholstering his Berretta and holding it ready in one hand. They slipped through the door into the temple, remarkably silent for their uncoordinated clumsiness. Daniel propped Jack up against the wall and closed the door, then tiptoed over to check the rest of the temple. It appeared to be empty.
"Okay. We're going to go outside now. Can you walk on your own?"
Jack blinked, stood up, and fell over. Daniel cursed under his breath. There was no way he was going to be able to get Jack down the loose scree of the ravine... or rather, there was no way he'd be able to get him back up once they got down. The way he saw it, they could either stay here in the tunnels and pray the Jaffa didn't figure out how Jack had escaped, or take their chances with the bridge. It had been unguarded the last time he'd seen it, and if it was still dark outside...
He looped Jack's arm around his neck again and pulled him towards the entrance.
Part Two is here
