Stargate SG-1 & Atlantis - Far Horizons (24 page)

“Consider what you’ve been through. Eventually it has to take its toll.”

She shoved away Janet’s voice. Now wasn’t the time to think about what she couldn’t change, only what she could. “Sir, what if —”

“Take it easy, Major. We’ve gotten out of worse.”

“I’ll take a turn piloting.” Daniel stood up and smiled. Almost. Thinly guarded, the corners of his mouth never really turned up. “Teal’c, why don’t you help Sam in the engine room?”

Teal’c grabbed his staff weapon and was at her side in less time than Sam had to protest. She could do this alone. She didn’t need help.

She hesitated. “What about the colonel?”

“I’ll come with.” Colonel O’Neill pushed himself up.

A moment’s wobble, a hand on the bulkhead. His face gray as stone. As happy as Sam was to see him upright, he’d lost too much blood.

“No, you don’t.” Daniel nudged him back down.

Sam looked away, unsure of what to do, what to think. How to feel. She wanted it to stop. All of it. No more deaths. No more loss.

“Major Carter?” Teal’c presented her with her P90, and then strode toward the engine room.

Sam clipped her P90 to her harness, torn between helping the colonel and fixing whatever kept them from jumping into hyperspace. She knew going to the engine room was the responsible thing to do, the rational thing to do.

Daniel gave her an encouraging nod and turned his attention back to the colonel. “Come on, Jack. You can keep me company.”

“And miss out on all the fun? Hey, Carter…”

Sam’s stomach clenched, but she forced herself to look him in the eye. “I know, sir. Get a grip.”

“Or not. Just… Stop looking down that rabbit hole so much.” She heard his unspoken words: stop thinking about Janet’s death. Move forward. Live here. Live now.

If only it was that easy.

“Sir…”

“Go on, Carter. Play with the engines. You like that sorta thing, remember?” The colonel gave her a smile.

The tightness in her chest loosened. Colonel O’Neill was right. With a nod to Daniel, she headed off for the engine room. She’d fix the hyper-drive and they’d get out of this mess. Like the colonel said, they’d gotten out of worse.

She paused at the archway, glancing back as Daniel unzipped his pack and pulled out a paperback book and pencil. He handed them to the colonel. “That’ll keep you out of trouble.”

From the archway, Sam couldn’t see the book, but, for the colonel’s sake, she hoped it had something to do with
The Simpsons
. Maybe Siler packed it as a gag gift.

Colonel O’Neill stared at the cover, his smile dropping into a tight scowl as he tossed the book across the deck. “Don’t push it, Daniel.”

It was a crossword puzzle book.

“Major Carter!” Teal’c’s shout came from the engine room. It sounded like trouble.

Releasing the safety on her P90, Sam dashed down the connecting corridor. She should have scanned the entire ship. Was there an intruder on board? What had she missed this time?

She turned the corner into the engine room, weapon raised. Teal’c stood inside, his staff weapon aimed. Both the primary and secondary hyper-drive compartments were slid open. Black cables dangled from each drawer, leading to what had to be at least a hundred-gallon tank.

Inside that tank swam another, more pressing puzzle.

A fully matured Goa’uld symbiote.

3. Bargaining (v): {
psychology
} —
to negotiate or come to terms. A reaction to feelings of helplessness and vulnerability. This stage of loss involves the hope that the individual can somehow regain control in order to undo or avoid a cause of grief.

Teal’c activated his staff weapon, its electrical charge a promise that the abomination inside the symbiote tank would soon be put to an end. He had gone to the engine room, hoping to allow his bone-weary soul a moment’s pause, and in doing so perhaps provide Major Carter with an opportunity to do the same. He knew she had felt Janet Fraiser’s death keenly, all of SG-1 had. The doctor’s funeral and subsequent memorial had been only a first step toward the healing they required.

Eliminating the immediate threat so that they may return to the SGC was now a necessary second.

“Don’t shoot it!” Major Carter stepped closer to the tank.

Teal’c did not. Nor did he deactivate his weapon. He understood her need to grasp the situation, but as O’Neill would say, one could never trust a Goa’uld.

Even one thrashing as wildly as this. Metal spikes pierced its pale skin, two above the serpent’s head and more along its body. Wires from those spikes led to a knee-high metallic black box on the floor beside the hyper-drive compartments. Thick cables led from the box up into each drawer, where they were fused into the very brackets that controlled the crystals. In the wall above, a circular lens glowed blue.

Clearly, there was danger here. He swung the staff weapon toward the black box. “At least allow me to disable its connection to the hyper-drive.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Major Carter approached the box and knelt. She pulled out her ever-present scanner. “Not until we know what we’re dealing with.”

He knew precisely what they were dealing with: a false god without a host. Without a face by which to lure innocents to quench its all-consuming thirst for bloodshed.

His thumb hovered over the staff weapon’s trigger. “Can you not determine its purpose once it is disabled and we have safely entered hyperspace?”

“I wish it was that simple.”

It was that simple. Why could Major Carter not see that? There were times Teal’c wished the Tau’ri would recognize their fragility. Dr. Fraiser’s recent loss should have served as a reminder. An indelible lesson that, yes, risks were worthy of the taking, but they should be calculated. Considered. Planned properly.

Teal’c raised an eyebrow, taken aback by his musings. If he’d said the same aloud to Master Bra’tac, or even to O’Neill, they would have accused him of behaving like an old woman.

“
Ah… Sam? Teal’c?
” Daniel Jackson called over the radio. “
Everything all right
?”

“We are endeavoring to determine the situation,” Teal’c replied. He briefed their teammate on their condition. “Are there any enemies in pursuit?”

“
Nothing yet.
”

“Do you wish me to take over piloting?”

“
No. I’m fine.”
A moment’s pause.
“Keep us posted.
”

Even Teal’c could not ignore the brevity of Daniel Jackson’s response. He exchanged glances with Major Carter.

She shrugged. “Daniel’s been pretty quiet since… Since Janet’s death.”

“They were close,” Teal’c offered. Indeed, it had been his observation in the weeks before Janet Fraiser’s demise that Daniel Jackson spent much of his free time with her and her daughter, Cassandra.

In the weeks since, he had turned inward. Not withdrawn, but not as quick to engage in non–mission-related concerns.

Healing would take time. For all of them.

“Teal’c, I’m sorry about biting your head off earlier.”

“My head is intact, Major Carter.” He met her sorrowful gaze and added, “Your apology is appreciated.”

She examined a cable emanating from the tank, then looked up from her scanner. “Do you know anything about why Daniel’s so eager for the colonel to do crossword puzzles?”

“I do not.” Teal’c shifted his staff weapon to his other hand. “Janet Fraiser had several such books in her office.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Major Carter, the symbiote?”

“Right.” Biting her lip, she returned to studying the scanner. “I’m willing to bet this uses the same technology as Anubis’ super soldiers. The nutrient tank houses the Goa’uld, which in turn controls key systems. Somehow, the symbiote’s cybernetically tied into ship’s functions.”

She touched the cable. A blue wave of energy shot outward, throwing her back against the far wall.

Teal’c ran to her side. “Are you all right?”

She gave a swift nod. “The tank’s got the same shielding mechanisms as the super soldiers. Either that, or there’s a feedback loop somewhere in the system.” She stood and rubbed her hand. “I don’t think your staff weapon’s going to do much good.”

Glancing back at the symbiote, he discovered that its thrashing had subsided.

He shared his observation.

“The shock must have spooked it. I have a hard time believing a blank slate symbiote, like the ones used in the super soldiers, could manage something as complex as a hyper-drive.”

She strode over to the hyper-drive compartment, as if the attack on her person had never happened. Raising her scanner over the black box, she then followed the cables extending from its base up into the drive’s compartments.

Teal’c once again aimed his staff weapon toward the tank. “You yourself made it clear that O’Neill requires immediate medical assistance.”

“He does…” She peered into the open primary hyper-drive drawer. One cable from the box was threaded up into the drawer and wrapped around the primary control crystal. Kneeling by the box once more, Major Carter aimed her scanner at its base as surely as his staff weapon was aimed at the tank. Her brow furrowed. She turned a scanner dial and repeated her task.

“Major Carter?”

“Hmm?”

“If O’Neill was here, he would express impatience.”

“I know, Teal’c.” She rocked back on her heels and frowned. “I just… I just don’t know how to fix this. Not yet.”

There had to be a way. Of this Teal’c was certain. SG-1 had not come this far or risked so much to be left stranded. He eyed the now-still symbiote. “Perhaps the electrical surge that harmed you can be used to permanently disarm the Goa’uld’s stranglehold. Perhaps there is some unguarded cable. An unshielded crystal to — ?”

“Not that I can find. The shield extends from the nutrient tank to the hyper-drive’s control crystal.” Major Carter stood up, her attention returned to the black box. “I’m pretty sure that if we kill the symbiote, the ship wouldn’t work at all, and it’s not only the hyper-drive I’m worried about. Look up there.” She pointed to the computer core and then to the life support systems against the rear bulkhead. Black cables led from each down into the nutrient tank. “As much as I hate to admit it, the design’s without flaw.”

“Oh, I can think of one flaw.”

O’Neill had arrived. He leaned against the doorway, his eyes never leaving the tank. “If that slimy snake in the tank controls the ship, why did it let us lift off?”

4. Depression (n): {
psychology
} —
a state of feeling sad marked by inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, and feelings of dejection and hopelessness. During the fourth stage, the grieving person quietly separates to bid their loved one farewell.

Daniel slumped in the pilot’s seat, hands on the control globe, and waited. The ship wouldn’t go into hyperspace, he still had thrusters, but so what? It wasn’t like there were any neighboring planets or moons with a gate. SG-1 was stuck, as usual. Sam would figure out how to fix it. As usual.

An asteroid loomed off the port bow. With a bit of gallows humor, he considered changing course to bring the ship closer. The last time he’d seen an asteroid up close, it had nearly been his final resting spot.

A morbid thought. He knew better. He should be used to the pain, he should be used to saying goodbye.

He swallowed hard at that realization. “I never got to say goodbye.”

“
Nor I
.”

Daniel glanced over his shoulder. “Did you say something?”

Jack wasn’t there. The crossword puzzle book lay on the floor, the pencil beside it. Broken. As if someone had stepped on it.

Fine. Jack could ignore the puzzle book. He was a grown man. While he was at it, he might as well ignore Daniel’s efforts to keep him alive.

God, he was tired. Soul tired. He recognized the symptoms and he knew the only cure was time. Eventually, he’d get used to the loss, but it would still leave a hole.

It always did.

He pulled out his radio. “Teal’c, is Jack with you?”

“
Hold on, Daniel
,” came Sam’s voice from the radio. “
The colonel might be on to something
.”

Daniel stuffed the radio back in his pocket. Leave it to Jack. He’d lost a great deal of blood and still refused to give up. Daniel appreciated his “never say die” attitude, tried to live it. Especially since his own return to life.

“But sometimes it isn’t enough,” he said aloud.

A rattling sound came from the intercom grid next to the HUD controls. “
They attempt to disengage my connection to the ship
.”

Daniel sat upright in his seat. “My connection?”

“
They will not succeed. Anubis is too clever
.”

Daniel yanked his radio back out. “Um, guys… You better get in here.”

“
I had heard Samantha Carter was quite brilliant, but even she cannot —”

Daniel stared at the intercom. “Who are you?”

“
I am Penthos of the Tok’ra.
”

“Penthos… The Greco-Roman spirit of —”

“
Grief
.”

Under different circumstances, he’d have smiled at the irony.

“And I’m Santa Claus.” Jack stumbled into the cockpit with Teal’c’s aid. “Daniel, who ya talking to?”

“
I know of all of you, Colonel O’Neill. Daniel Jackson. Jacob Carter’s daughter, Samantha, and the Jaffa, Teal’c.
” Another sigh. Deeper this time. “
SG-1’s exploits are known throughout the Tok’ra’s spy network.
”

“Yeah, so?” Jack shrugged, nonchalant as ever. “Last I checked, we’d made the galaxy-wide Goa’uld news, too. That doesn’t prove anything.”

“You know my father?” Sam asked.

“
We met shortly before my final assignment. Selmak and I were born of the same queen-mother.
”

“Egeria,” Teal’c said. “That is also not unknown to the Goa’uld.”

Penthos groaned again.

“Are you in pain?”

“Goa’uld or Tok’ra, Daniel, he’d have to be,” Sam whispered. “Anubis punctured the symbiote’s hide with at least a half-dozen conductors.”

“
Eight, to be precise, Jacob’s daughter.
”

“I’m sorry, I —”

“Don’t go feeling sorry for it, Carter.” Jack sank down into the navigator’s chair. “It’s still a Goa’uld.”

“And we’re still stuck on a ship incapable of hyper-drive,” Daniel reminded him. “Goa’uld or Tok’ra, shouldn’t we —”