Colonel O’Neill led them slowly down the steep incline toward the smoking remains of the crashed ship. He moved with his customary stealth, but more slowly than was usual in consideration of Daniel Jackson’s incapacity. Teal’c himself brought up the rear, his gaze roving between his teammates and the smoke curling black into the misty sky. He caught the acrid scent of burning flesh on the air and guessed that the pilot had not survived the impact.
High in the sky, he thought he saw more shapes darting in and out of the clouds. But they were too far away for him to be certain.
The terrain was rocky, as if some giant hand had scattered boulders across the landscape, which made it easy to conceal their approach. Here and there a few of the low, scrubby trees that populated the higher slopes also dotted the sides of the valley, and among those trees Teal’c thought he saw movement. He was about to alert O’Neill when the colonel lifted his fist to halt them, dropping to a crouch behind one of the larger rocks. He waved Teal’c closer.
Major Carter helped Daniel Jackson to sit down, and as he passed them Teal’c caught her eye. The look of sharp anxiety he saw there made him fear for his friend, whose skin now bore an unmistakable deathly pallor.
Preoccupied with his fears, Teal’c crouched next to O’Neill. His eyes were also fixed on Daniel Jackson, his mouth a tight line of concern. But when he looked at Teal’c all he said was, “I saw movement in the trees.”
Teal’c nodded, “As did I.”
Peering around the boulder, Teal’c scanned the crash site. It was now only a couple hundred meters away and he could make out a dark, wedge-shaped ship that was mostly intact. A long furrow of scorched, overturned earth marked its landing trajectory, the sharp nose having come to rest amid a small copse of trees close to the edge of the valley. Smoke was rising from the rear of the ship and Teal’c thought he could see what appeared to be an open canopy. Someone, perhaps, had survived. He also saw movement, on the far side of the wreck.
He ducked back down and let his back rest against the boulder. O’Neill’s face was closed and hard, his eyes once more fixed on Daniel Jackson. Major Carter was trying to persuade him to drink from her canteen, her expressive features unable to mask her distress.
“I believe,” Teal’c said in a low voice, “that we will not be the first to reach the crash site.”
O’Neill nodded. “We need whatever that ship uses to dial the gate,” he said. “At any cost.”
Teal’c understood his meaning. “We are well armed, O’Neill, and have the element of surprise.”
With a curt gesture, O’Neill beckoned Major Carter closer. “There are people,” he said, when she crouched down next to him. “Teal’c — go around to the nose of the ship, wait for my signal. Carter, you’re with me.”
“What about Daniel, sir?” She glanced back at him. “If we leave him here, he’ll be vulnerable.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Daniel Jackson said, opening his fevered eyes. “I’ll catch up.”
There was silence while O’Neill considered the question: Teal’c could tell he liked neither option. Daniel Jackson was too weak to fight, and they must move fast to keep other scavengers from taking or damaging the technology they sought in the downed fighter, but to leave him alone and unguarded also posed dangers. After a moment, O’Neill said, “Carter, once we’ve secured the ship, come back for Daniel.” He looked over at Daniel Jackson. “And you stay put.”
Daniel Jackson just closed his eyes. “You betcha.”
Major Carter merely nodded, her hands moving to ready her weapon.
“Okay,” O’Neill said, catching them both with one look, “I want this quiet, fast and with no fuss. Our only priority is the dialing mechanism — assuming there is one.” He crept to the edge of the boulder, peered around it, and after a moment signaled for them to move out.
In a low run, they moved from cover to cover, crossing the remaining distance quickly. Teal’c could now see people moving on the far side of the ship — they appeared similarly dressed to Aedan’s kin — and there was some commotion taking place in the trees beyond the crash site. As they drew closer, O’Neill signaled Teal’c to move left while he and Major Carter made their way around to the rear of the ship.
Keeping silent and low, Teal’c moved into the shadow of the fuselage. Seen at close quarters, he realized that even the material from which the ship was constructed was unfamiliar. If these were Goa’uld, they were like none he had ever encountered.
He could hear shouts now, rising up with the smoke. Jeers of anger, furious laughter. Rage. It was the sound of a mob and he did not like it.
With caution, he made his way around to the front of the ship, keeping his weapon ready. Crouching low near the crumpled nose of the fighter, he studied the scene before him. A dozen young men were gathered around a figure that lay prone on the ground. Teal’c could see little of him besides large, heavy boots. He assumed it was the body of the pilot, dragged from the wreckage. But as he watched he saw the boots start to scrabble backwards, sliding along the ground until they lifted up and he realized that someone had strung a noose around the man’s neck and that the rope was slung over a tree branch.
Teal’c had seen much horror in his life, many things far worse than this. Yet he felt a cold revulsion watching the laughing, jeering men haul on the rope until the pilot’s head started to rise above the mob as he struggled against the rope that was slowly hanging him.
Teal’c sucked in a breath, shocked when he saw the pilot’s face. Whatever he had been expecting, it was not this. The man — if indeed it was a man — was monstrous. His skin was mottled green, gray-hued lips pulled back in a snarl over sharp, killing teeth and his long hair hung in lank and pallid strands around his face. He struggled in fury, spitting and growling, his hands tied behind his back and something black — blood? — seeping from a wound in his leg.
The humans were beating him now with sticks or pieces of the wrecked ship, cursing, venting their fear and fury on this wounded creature.
In his ear, Teal’c heard his radio crackle.
“Teal’c,” O’Neill said, hissy through the static. “You seeing this?”
“I am,” he said quietly.
There was a long silence. He knew the question with which O’Neill was wrestling and could guess the choice his friend would make; his stubborn adherence to right in the face of wrongdoing was the trait that had first drawn him to the man.
To aid his decision, Teal’c toggled his radio and said, “The men appear to be armed only with sticks, O’Neill.”
A moment later, O’Neill spoke again. “Yup. We’re gonna stop this. Look to your right.”
Teal’c did as ordered and could glimpse O’Neill’s leg and boot protruding beyond the wreckage. “I see you.”
O’Neill moved further out of cover, crouching low, with Major Carter close behind him. He signaled three, two, one. Go.
They went.
O’Neill let loose a burst of gunfire wide of the mob, hammering bullets into the trees and knocking out chunks of bark and leaves. Teal’c did the same, sending two bolts from his staff down into the ground at the feet of the men, spewing up dirt, while Major Carter broke to her left and came to stand midway between Teal’c and O’Neill.
“Move back!” she yelled. “Move away from him!”
Half the men dropped to the ground, the rest bolted into the trees.
O’Neill stalked closer, his weapon leveled. “Go!” he barked at those who cowered in the dirt. “Get outa here. Go on! Run!”
They did not need to be asked more than once, scrambling to their feet and racing up the sides of the valley after their friends. Teal’c kept his eyes, and his weapon, trained on them until he could see them no more. Behind him, he heard O’Neill say, “Carter, go get Daniel. Now.”
“Yes sir.” And she was gone.
After a moment, O’Neill came to stand at Teal’c’s side, lowering his weapon but not his guard as he studied the man — creature — still trapped at the end of the rope, but no longer in mortal danger. It looked like a wild animal, cornered, spitting and hissing at them. O’Neill glanced at Teal’c. “What the hell is that thing?”
“I do not know.”
“Really?”
“I have never seen its like before.”
O’Neill took a deep breath and shook his head, as he often did when about to do something of dubious wisdom. He clicked his weapon onto single shot and said, “Stay sharp.” Then, in one swift move, he lifted his gun and made the shot, slicing through the rope that held the creature. It collapsed forward with a thump and laid there, arms and legs still bound, still snarling.
Teal’c aimed his weapon and so did O’Neill, watching the creature watch them through its strange yellow eyes.
“Okay,” O’Neill said. “So I guess we wait for Daniel to come talk to the zombie.”
By the time Major Carter and Daniel Jackson returned, the creature had maneuvered itself to a sitting position — clearly favoring its left leg, which appeared to be bleeding heavily.
“Sir,” Major Carter said as she approached, and Teal’c turned to see her supporting Daniel Jackson as he limped closer.
But, despite his obvious suffering, Daniel Jackson’s eyes widened when he saw the creature Teal’c was guarding. “Wow,” he said. “I guess that’s one of the Amam? I can certainly see where the name came from.”
“See if you can talk to it,” O’Neill said, jerking his head toward the creature.
“Can we untie him first?” Daniel asked, wincing as Major Carter lowered him to the ground. He did not look like he could travel much further.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” O’Neill said.
“We have to build trust.”
Getting back to her feet, Major Carter drew closer to the creature. “Sir, its leg — It’s wounded.”
“It’s the teeth I’m concerned about,” O’Neill said. “Devourer, remember?”
Apparently choosing to ignore him, Major Carter crouched down close to the creature and said, “Are you hurt? Can we help you?”
The creature just snarled.
“It can’t understand you,” O’Neill said. “And just move back, would you? I don’t like the look in its creepy, yellow eyes.”
The creature hissed again, this time at O’Neill.
“Oh,” Daniel Jackson said. “I think he understood that.”
O’Neill raised his eyebrows. “No offence?” he said doubtfully.
Ignoring him, Daniel Jackson returned his attention to the creature. “My name’s Daniel,” he said. “We’re — God.” Gritting his teeth against an apparent wash of pain he pressed his hand to his side. When he could speak again he rasped, “We’re trying to get home. Through the Stargate. Do you have a way to open it?”
The creature just snarled, baring pointed teeth.
“Sir,” Carter said, “I think it’s in pain. I think we should cut it free.”
“She’s right,” Daniel said weakly. “Build trust.”
Teal’c kept his weapon trained on the creature, as did O’Neill. It watched them in return, wary, but intelligent. Teal’c suspected that Daniel Jackson was correct; the creature could understand their words.
“Sir?” Major Carter pulled out her knife.
After a moment O’Neill gave a curt nod. “Be careful.”
The creature flinched back as Major Carter moved in, but she held up her hands and said, “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” First she cut the rope around the creature’s feet, then moved around behind it and cut his arms free. She stepped back quickly, sheathing her knife and lifting her gun as she backed up next to Teal’c.
Behind him, Teal’c heard Daniel Jackson gasp as the creature rubbed at its wrists and flexed its hands. They were large and clawed, like they were intended for killing. Still watching SG-1, it climbed to its feet.
“Woah,” O’Neill said, backing up a step.
It was tall, taller even than Teal’c, broad and powerful; even unarmed, there was no doubt that this was a dangerous creature. It sniffed the air, cocked its head as if listening for something distant.
“Ah, Jack?” Daniel Jackson said from behind them, his voice shaking.
O’Neill did not turn around, his gaze fixed on the creature. “The Stargate,” he said. “Can you open it? We need to go home.”
“Jack…” Daniel Jackson’s voice was urgent, frightened. “Oh God…”
Teal’c turned around in time to see Daniel Jackson pull his hand away from his side. It was red with blood, a dark patch spreading across his jacket. His face was colorless.
“Daniel!” O’Neill dropped to the ground next to him just as Daniel Jackson’s eyes rolled back in his head.
“Jack…” He collapsed backward and O’Neill caught him, lowering him to the ground.
Major Carter blanched. “Oh God.”
“Daniel… ?” O’Neill tapped his face. “Daniel!” He pressed his fingers to his neck, moving them, searching for a pulse. “Shit. Shit!”
“No…” Major Carter fell to her knees on the other side of Daniel Jackson, her hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Daniel, please.”
Teal’c felt his heart constrict, his jaw clenched in grief, but he fixed his eyes and his weapon on the creature. He was all that stood between this thing and his friends, and protecting them was all he could do to help.
The creature took a step forward. Teal’c raised his weapon, braced his feet for an assault. “Stay back.”
It snarled, bared its teeth. And in a flash of movement it seized the end of Teal’c’s staff weapon, pushing it up and away from its face. Teal’c tried to jerk the staff free, but the creature was strong and had the better angle, its clawed fingers curling tight around the weapon and holding fast.
“That one is dying,” it said in a strange, sepulchral voice. “I can help him.”