Stargate SG-1: Sacrifice Moon (33 page)

Sha're wasn't there.

He didn't find her.

"How many?" Jack asked, as Carter took a weary seat next to him
at the campfire. She'd scrubbed with disinfectant soap, both skin and
clothes, and looked clean but exhausted. She propped her chin on
raised knees and folded arms.

"Six hundred eighty-nine," she said. "But it's not over. They're
finding bodies in half the Acropolis. Some date back several hundred
years, according to Daniel. Pylades was right: this place was a tomb.
It's appalling."

He hated to ask it, but... "No sign of Sha're, right?"

"None." Carter fluffed her damp hair absently. "I don't think he
really expected there to be, but... "

"Had to try."

"Yes sir."

He handed her an MRE. "Country Captain Chicken," he said.
"Your favorite."

She managed a wan smile, ate about three mouthfuls and yawned. Dawn was on the way, coming fast, and Jack felt the drag, too. Even
Teal'c had settled down into some kind of zen yoga thing.

Daniel was still walking, out there in the darkness. Jack got up and
went looking.

He found him standing on an outcropping of stone, surrounded
by thin, whispery pines; overhead, the moon floated huge and white
and - for once - innocent. The ruins of the Great City spread out from
the base of the hill in broken concentric circles.

"Hey," Jack ventured. He wasn't sure the younger man even heard
him. "Getting late."

Daniel nodded. He looked exhausted. "This place. It was beautiful
once, don't you think?"

"Whatever. Get some sleep."

"Why? We're going back tomorrow. I'll sleep when I'm home."
Daniel's lips tightened. "When I'm lying down on clean sheets, anyway-

"Yeah... about that, listen, how's the house-hunting going? I'm
only asking because I think General Hammond wants those VIP quarters back, or he's going to start charging nightly rates. Call it the SGC
Hilton."

"Don't."

Jack leaned against a convenient pine trunk. "Don't what?"

Daniel shook his head. "Don't patronize me."

Right. Jack crossed his arms and studied the toes of his boots.
"Fine. She wasn't here. She was never here."

"I know that."

"We saved these people." No answer. "We can send them home."
Nothing. "Daniel... "

"Pylades wants us to take a message back," Daniel said. "He's not
going home. He's staying here to guard his sister. Eseios and Briseis
aren't going, either. They think they can rebuild something. I think
they're afraid their families wouldn't be too happy about a marriage
made in hell, and apparently there's a real problem with intermarrying between planets. They're not the only ones... Jack, what if the
tribute planets don't believe us? What if they keep sending people?"

"Then I think Eseios and Pylades will send them right back, with a
nice little note. It'll change. Things change."

"Do they?" Daniel's glasses caught moonlight. "Maybe. That's
something to hope for, anyway."

They stood together in silence for a while, and then Daniel said,
"How's the ankle?"

"Miserable. Thanks for asking. Hurts like hell."

"You should be sitting down."

"And yet, tramping around in the dark after you." Jack debated it,
and then he decided to go ahead and say it. "Laonides is a total bastard, but he's right about one thing. You can't look for Sha're in every
face you see, living or dead. You know that, right?"

Daniel sucked in a deep, wounded breath, then let it out in a cloud
of silver.

"Come. Sit, if you're not going to sleep." Jack led the way at a
slow, exhausted hobble. "I've got cookies."

"What kind?"

"Chocolate chip."

"Okay." Daniel took one last look at the moonlight, and followed.

On the way back to the Stargate the next day, they had an escort
of more than a hundred. It kept growing as they moved through the
city; Eseios picked up an irritating habit of yelling out an exaggerated
account of their battles to draw people out of hiding.

There were fallen collars all over the streets. Somebody had even
tried to bum a pile of them, to no effect; Jack thought it was a pretty
good idea. Maybe staff blasts would melt the things.

They found Artemis's black-painted Death Glider landed in a pile
of rubble, a couple of miles down the road; the hatch was open, and
one dead Jaffa lay nearby. Decoy. She'd known they were coming to
the Acropolis that night. They'd been lucky, Jack realized; lucky she
was crazy, and that Daniel was even crazier.

It was, strangely, a much shorter march from that point on. "Downhill," Jack observed. He was feeling pretty good, since he'd finally
allowed Carter to hit him with a fat dose of painkillers. The anklethrob had subsided to an occasional, dreamy pulse.

"That, and we've got a construction crew," Daniel pointed out;
the crowd had surged ahead of them, moving stones, clearing streets
of rubble. Eseios worked as construction boss, cheerfully tossing out instructions and orders, adding his muscle-bound strength to
moving the larger obstructions. "Kind of nice, to see them working
together."

It wouldn't last, Jack thought, but he kept it to himself. Brotherly
love and cooperation never did. Still, if Eseios could forge some kind
of community out of this, some kind of purpose... maybe it wouldn't
ever be the Great City again, but it'd be a pretty okay one.

Midday arrived with picnics in the streets. People met, talked,
exchanged memories of home. They were separating into tribes
already, Jack noticed - drawn by common backgrounds. Well, he
couldn't judge them. He sat with his own tribe, all uniformed in olive
drab, and finished up the last of the rations.

By the time they made the Stargate it had moved from picnic to
parade to street festival, with singing and clapping and dancing; kids
yelled and waved rags and chased each other around, if they had the
strength. Even the thinnest looked just a little healthier.

And the sun seemed to shine harder, just for a while.

Carter dropped the control crystal into the DHD and made some
adjustments, then conferred with Daniel for a few minutes. They
started with the `gate address for Sikyon.

It took the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening, to get
everyone moved out who was planning to go.

By full dark, they were standing with a hundred or so, including
Briseis and Eseios and most of the Dark Company.

"Moonrise," Briseis said, watching it happen. "I will be able to tell
my baby stories of a time it was not beautiful, to see it come."

"Wait a while on the storytelling," Jack advised. "And keep an eye
on the sarcophagus."

"It will not open," she promised. "We will see to that. And I think
her brother will come to accept it, in time."

Eseios handed over something from a bag at his side... Jack made
out the metal shape in the dim light, and the Velcro fastenings.

"Ah. Was going to ask about that," he said, and slid the GDO on
his wrist, cinching it tight. "Take care of these people."

"Take care of yours," Eseios said, and offered his hand. Jack
gripped it. "I will see you again, Jack O'Neill."

Daniel went to the DUD and started to enter the coordinates back to the SGC. Jack stopped him with an outstretched hand.

"What?"

"We're not going home," he said. "One more thing to do."

"Okay... ?"

He motioned Eseios over, and asked for a favor.

When the wormhole opened, it opened to Chalcis.

The airport looked absolutely the same: full of chattering travelers,
government worker bees, dark-tunic security. Jack clumped down the
steps to the first security tunic he saw, grabbed it by a bunched handful of cloth, and said, "Acton. Get him. Now"

"Jack - " Daniel was watching him anxiously, with a frown
grooved deep. Carter wasn't second-guessing him, but he saw the
doubt in her eyes, too. Lots of civilians here. Lots of collaterals to be
damaged.

The security man, eyes wide, ran to somebody who must have
been a superior, who dispatched a courier. Jack led SG-1 to the shade
of the bar, thumped his MP5 down on the table, and sat down with a
sigh. Painkillers were a fond memory. In fact, he was just about down
to zero on every level, including patience.

"Jack, what are we doing here?" Daniel asked. "Shouldn't we get
back, report to General Hammond...?"

"Sure," Jack agreed, and held up a hand to snap fingers at the bartender. "Only we don't need to go home to do that."

"We don't?"

Jack keyed his tac vest radio. "SG-2, this is SG-1, over." No
response. "Sierra Golf Two Niner, this is Sierra Golf One Niner,
respond."

And then the radio blurted static, and Major Dave Dixon's voice
came back, clipped and warm with relief. "Sierra Golf One Niner, this
is Sierra Golf Two Niner, and pardon my French, Jack, but where the
hell have you been?"

"Oh, here and there, Dix. We're hanging at the airport. Join us."

"On our way."

Jack clicked off. His team was staring at him in varying degrees of
surprise and confusion.

"SOP," he said. "Backup plan, remember? SG-2's been looking for us."

"How did you know they'd still be here?" Carter asked. "A search
and rescue mission should have already determined we were gone,
nothing to rescue..."

"It's Dixon," Jack shrugged. "He's a digger. No matter what kind
of story Acton cooked up, Dixon would have smelled a rat."

"But he's acting against orders!"

"It's Dixon. And he owes me a couple, Captain."

She shook her head. The bartender, who was looking scared to
death, finally ventured over and dropped off four glasses at the table.
Daniel picked his up and turned it in his fingers, then sipped at the
contents.

So did Teal'c, who put it back down. "There is alcohol," he said.

"Damn right," Jack said, and looked up at the sound of booted feet
running outside. "Yo! Dixon!"

"Colonel." Major Dixon pushed in and shook his hand, then nodded to each of them in turn. He was a big man, with sharp dark eyes
and an off-kilter smile. "Knew you'd be back, sir."

"Major, your orders were to report back to the SGC..." Jack
checked his watch. "Sixteen hours ago, by my count."

"Technical difficulties, sir. With the Stargate."

"That would be the Stargate they're currently sending people
through right now, out there in the airport ...?"

"It's an intermittent problem, sir. Our dialing coordinates don't
seem to want to sync up properly." Dixon's bright eyes stayed steady.
"Sorry to say it, sir, but you guys look like crap."

"Must look better than we feel... did you talk to a snaky little
bastard named Acton? Big head cheese guy? About so tall, gray
hair...?"

Dixon's geek - Baldwin? Balinsky? - cleared his throat and said,
"I did, sir. He claimed that you stayed for a couple of days, parted on
good terms, and decided to visit one of the other worlds in the Confederacy. He claimed not to know which one. We spent a couple of
days traveling around looking before we came back here." He nodded
at Daniel. "Dr. Jackson."

"Dr. Balinsky."

"Isn't this place amazing?... You saw the Acropolis? I mean, what a thrill! It's just..." Balinsky had the light of a true convert. Daniel's
answering stare was darker. Quieter.

"Yes," he said. "It's amazing. And I've seen... a couple of them
now."

When Balinsky opened his mouth to ask details, Dixon cut him
off. "Where'd you go, sir, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Debrief later. I need a favor."

"Anything, Colonel."

Jack smiled, and explained things.

Half an hour later, they heard the sound of tramping footsteps.
Acton must have taken the express chariot from the city, or he'd
been close; he and his cronies appeared in the doorway, and Acton's
expression wiped completely blank at the sight of SG-1 sitting at the
table, sipping tropical drinks with SG-2.

Dixon slammed down his drink with the ease of a man who'd
been in plenty of saloons, and SG-2 moved into position, surrounding
Acton's bodyguards.

"Hey there," Jack said. He stood up, and SG-1 came with him as a
unit. "Got something to show you. Let's take a little walk, Acton."

"I do not understand your language - " Acton began coldly,
and then realized he did. Dixon looked confused. He and Balinsky
exchanged a look. "You have learned to speak well, stranger."

"Actually not. But whatever." Jack grabbed hold of his shoulder
and steered him out of the bar. "I'd like you to pay a little diplomatic
visit. And then I'm going to want you to drop around to Mycenae and
Delphi and Sikyon, and get them to pay a little diplomatic visit."

Acton was still trying to pretend he had the upper hand as they
emerged in the bright sunlight. Daniel darted ahead with Teal'c and
Carter behind him, more or less gently moved the airport employee
doing the dialing out of the way, and entered coordinates. The wormhole activated, belched, settled.

"Diplomatic visit?" Acton said slowly. "To... your world? I am
not prepared..."

"No need. You're not going to my world. Oh, and you won't need
any food, or any water, or any clothes." Jack walked him up the steps
with an arm around his shoulders. All of the warmth dropped out
of his voice, and his hand on Acton's shoulder blade gripped hard enough to bruise. "You know, kind of like the way you sent all of
those other people through here to die. You're going where you sent
us. Have a nice trip."

"No - " Acton must have known; his eyes were wide and horrorstricken. "No! You cannot do this! She demands tribute, we have sent
it - I was not chosen! What do you want of me?"

Jack just smiled, and said, "Say hi to your goddess for me."

And then he put a boot in Acton's ass and sent him flailing through
the wormhole. When he turned back, SG-2 was facing out, MP5s
aimed at the security guys, who were standing with spears half-raised
and looking worried.