The fire burned bright, bringing warmth to Daniel’s bones. Sam had objected to lighting it for fear that it would bring the Amam right to them, but Hunter had said it wouldn’t make a difference.
It was true that their escape had seemed almost too easy. They had sprinted towards the cover of a nearby forest, downhill and away from the alien craft. Daniel had expected, with every passing moment, a clawed hand to close on his shoulder. But the only assault had come from the tree branches that tore at their clothes and exposed hands and faces.
“They won’t chase us no further,” said Hunter, once they’d finally slowed. “They’ve got what they want.”
“You mean Colonel O’Neill?” Sam had almost spat the words.
But Hunter had been unfazed by her anger. “Right enough,” he said. “But don’t worry, they ain’t gonna feast on him. He’s safe enough for now.”
“How do you know?”
Hunter had just smiled, though his eyes were hard. “’Cause I know Snatchers.”
He’d led them then to a clearing, canopied by skeleton trees whose jagged branches cracked the darkening sky into brittle pieces of gray. From the snaking carcasses of roots that jutted through the hard-baked soil, it looked like this area might once have been densely wooded. Now it was just a filigree of death and dust.
In the near distance, the behemoth that was the Amam ship lurked on the mountainside like some brooding creature, and they sat in its shadow collecting their thoughts. Looking at his friends’ faces, Daniel knew they were all asking themselves the same question: What now?
“Where did you get that grenade?” Sam asked Hunter. “How did you know what it was?”
“Took it from one of the tables in the junk room. We’ve seen ‘em before. We use what we can find and we’ve stolen plenty like that in the past. Sometimes we just find ‘em in the dirt.”
“The grenade appeared to be of Goa’uld design,” Teal’c said, “although unusual. Most likely they were abandoned here during the war with the Amam.”
Hunter just shrugged. “Dix provides.”
His devotion to the mysterious Dix was fascinating, and Daniel wondered what role he played on this world. To Elspeth he’d been little more than a legend, yet to Hunter he seemed very much a living person.
“You said you would take us to him,” said Teal’c.
Hunter just threw another bundle of sticks onto the fire. “If you lend me one of your knives, I could catch us a jacker. Some good eating in a jacker.”
Sam grabbed his elbow. “Hunter, you said you would help us. We don’t have time for this.”
Hunter nodded and said, “I’ll take you to Dix soon enough, but strangers can’t just go walkin’ in on him.”
“Fine,” said Sam, “then you take us there. Let’s go. Let’s go right now.” She stood up, brushing the dirt from her BDUs, heading away from the light of the fire. Daniel could see how antsy she was to get moving and he could understand her impatience.
“No!” Hunter’s shout split the night and Sam froze. Clearly she was as alarmed as Daniel was at the panic in the man’s tone. It was more than just concern at them wandering in where they weren’t welcome, though. It bordered on actual fear. Hunter took a breath and sat back, staring at the fire again. “No,” he said again, quieter this time. “Ain’t safe in the Shacks at night.”
“Why not?” asked Sam. “What happens at night?”
“The Snatchers come.”
“There is no safety in your home?” said Teal’c.
Hunter huffed a bitter laugh. “There ain’t no safety nowhere.”
“Then why do you remain there?”
He ignored the question, just fixed his gaze on the crackling flames, and said, “I’ll take you to Dix, but in the morning. In the daylight.”
“Hunter,” said Daniel, “our friend is back on the Amam ship. We can’t leave him there.”
“Going back’ll only get yourselves caught.”
“Maybe,” Daniel said, “but we don’t have a choice. We’d like to know if Dix can help us.”
“He will, but not in this. That’d put us all in harm’s way. Your friend… the Amam won’t hurt him none. You got time.”
“How much time?” Sam said. “How do you know they won’t hurt him?”
“’Cause your friend’s Lantean.”
“He’s what?”
“Lantean. The Snatchers won’t hurt him none, not till they’re done testing him.”
“Testing him?” said Daniel. “What do you mean?”
“Gods’ truth. There are those the Snatchers take from among their harvestings, and test with workings like the one O’Neill touched. If they’ve the gift to work such devices, then they’re taken to serve a purpose other than…” He swallowed and rubbed his hand over the center of his chest. Daniel saw Sam flinch, as if recalling the momentary pain she’d experienced.
“But to what end?” she asked. “What are they testing them for?”
“No one rightly knows. There’s camp-tales, though, but most of them are nonsense.”
“Tales?” said Daniel, unable to hide his interest.
Hunter sighed and rolled his eyes, as if being asked to recite a children’s story for the hundredth time. “There’re legends of a city that was once sunk beneath the ocean and lived in by a race of… I don’t know, some call ‘em gods. Seems that only the descendants of the gods — those of the Lantean blood — can restore the city and save us all.”
“But you don’t believe the legends.”
Hunter shrugged and threw some more kindling on the fire. “Don’t matter whether I believe it. What matters is that the Snatchers do. And so they search for Lantean blood, like that of O’Neill. Trust me, if he complies, then his fate’ll be better than any other.”
“Whatever that fate may be,” said Teal’c, “I am certain it is nothing good. The Goa’uld often select slaves to become their own personal attendants and treat them, for a time, as the Tau’ri may treat a cherished pet. They are still slaves however, and when their master becomes weary of them, or is displeased in anyway, the slave is dealt an unenviable punishment.”
As it always did, the memory of Sha’re was sudden, still painful after all this time, blessed by Apophis in the form of a symbiote in her head. He could almost see the unnatural flash of her eyes in the flames of the camp fire.
Sam pressed her lips into a thin line. “Trust me, Hunter, Colonel O’Neill is not someone who’ll ‘comply’ with the Amam’s wishes. And I sure as hell won’t be leaving him in their hands.”
“Nor I, Major Carter,” said Teal’c.
“You’re foolish to go back,” said Hunter. “It’s sure death.”
“Not really,” said Sam. “They can’t feed on me, remember?”
“The Snatchers have other ways of killing. You ain’t safe. Your leader man is.”
“We don’t leave our people behind, Hunter,” said Sam. “We’re going back for him.”
“Then we’re decided,” said Daniel. Not that there had never been any other option. “So when do we head back? First light?” But then he saw the grave expression on Sam’s face and realized she’d come up with another option — one he wasn’t going like very much.
“Not you, Daniel.”
“What?”
“Teal’c and I go back. You take my pack and go with Hunter.”
“Sam, no!” There was no way he was letting them go back there alone. The stakes were too high and the idea of the four of them scattered across this barren planet filled him with unease.
“Daniel, it’s the only way that makes sense. If we… if anything happens, you need to go find Dix and get a message home. You’re the one who’ll need to get help.”
The fact that she was right only deepened his dismay, because it would be all the more difficult to talk her out of it. “Then we all go to Dix,” he said. “We’re stronger together.”
“Daniel, you know we don’t have time for that. Any delay could cost the colonel his life.”
“But —”
“Daniel, it’s the only way. Consider it an order.” Her expression was resolute and Daniel knew it was useless to say any more. When Sam pulled rank on him, the argument was over. She nodded at his acquiescence. “First light, then. Teal’c and I go back to the ship. Hunter, can you take Teal’c’s pack with you? We’ll move faster if we travel light.”
Hunter nodded, and seemed genuinely torn when he said, “I’m sorry I can’t go with you, but I’ve a wife and a son.”
Teal’c bowed his head. He, of all people, understood the decision.
“It’s alright, Hunter,” said Sam, less fervent now that the decision had been made. “Go back to your family. And thank you for your help. We couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
Hunter nodded. “I can’t go with you, but I can still help you.” He picked up a stick and sketched a few lines in the dirt. “Here, on the side of the ship where the light rises, you’ll find an access hatch. Ascend two levels and you’ll find the cells where the Snatchers are likely holding O’Neill. Here. And here. The prisoners they hold there are valuable, so you should expect much resistance. It won’t be easy.” From the way he shook his head, Daniel could tell that he thought it would be nigh on impossible. “If… if you make it out, follow the tree line along the base of the mountain. You’ll find the Old Road. It’s broken up and hard to see, but it’s there alright. At the end of that’s the Shacks. You’ll be welcome in my home, Major Carter. And Dix’ll help if he can. I’ll wait for you.”
“Our thanks, Hunter,” said Teal’c.
“The gods’ grace go with you,” he said, but his tone was grim. He obviously doubted there was enough divine grace to cover what luck Sam and Teal’c would need.
Sam knelt down next to the roughly sketched ship schematics, focused and determined. “So, let’s go over these plans again,” she said, “and this time I have a few questions.”
The ceiling of the cell was dark and featureless, cold, just like the rest of this godforsaken ship. Say what you wanted about the Goa’uld, at least they had some flair when it came to decor. This place felt like it had not so much been designed, but rather it had grown from some gruesome embryo. The cell itself was ordinary, more or less. Not the sticky pods from which he and the others had escaped, but a room enclosed by an intricate mesh of bars. He’d been escorted past a heavy guard presence and could still hear the steady tread of the regular patrols in the hallways. Here, though, he hadn’t seen a soul for a couple of hours. At least they didn’t put me back in the pantry, he thought grimly.
Although they hadn’t fed him either, or given him anything to drink.
He’d made some obligatory attempts to find a way out, but the only thing he could see that even resembled a lock was too far out of reach. The Amam guards who’d brought him here hadn’t even appeared to touch anything, the netlike bars simply parting in front of them. Despite the latent talent he’d just discovered for activating alien gadgets, Jack had been thus far unsuccessful in getting the bars to open for him. He thought back to Carter’s grimace when she touched the door panel earlier and her comment that it felt almost alive. It was not a pleasant idea.
It seemed that even the Amam had forgotten about him for the time being, which was just fine with him. Crazy hadn’t hurt him as such. In fact, the thing had seemed completely ambivalent towards his wellbeing. It had spent what felt like hours forcing Jack to try and activate an array of weird tech. Jack had tried his best to prevent the tests from being successful, but it appeared that the outcome of each one was out of his control: some had worked, some had not. He wasn’t sure what it meant. Then he’d been brought to this cell and left alone.
For now, he had no choice but to wait.
Wait for what? For rescue? Who’s coming back for you, Jack?
He hated that little voice. It had been his constant companion on Edora too, until eventually he’d answered its persistent questioning.
No one. No one was coming for him.
That was what he’d thought and then his team had gone and proved him wrong. And he’d been angry. He’d been angry. What a truly ungrateful son of a bitch.
There was a time, long ago, when everything in his life was solid and certain. A time before Charlie and the sound of the shot that had cracked his world apart. He’d known his purpose and his duty then, and, yes, there had been times when he’d landed in situations to which hell had seemed an attractive alternative, but that was all on him. That was part of serving, part of the choice he’d made. Then everything had changed and he’d ended up with nothing. In those days, he was nothing. Until the Stargate. Only then had he realized that purpose and duty hadn’t deserted him after all.
Sometimes, though… Sometimes he woke and felt nothing but old. And it was those times that made him wonder whether this was his game anymore. Did he still have the heart for the fight?
Edora. The place had tested his commitment and he’d come up wanting. Some days he truly wished he was back there, back to the simplicity of farming and fishing. Some days he wished there had been no rescue, that Carter hadn’t been smart enough to find a way home. Some days he thought he could’ve lived with that.
Yet right here, right now, being on this godforsaken rock at the ass end of the galaxy made him realize how wrong he’d been. Maybe it was that old school Air Force ego kicking in, but all Jack could think about was how much he was needed elsewhere, and what might be going wrong without him and SG-1. He had a duty, to his people and to his team, to make it through this. He wouldn’t forget that again.
This wasn’t Edora. And this time there would be no rescue, because he’d ordered it so. Hopefully, Carter, Daniel and Teal’c were already on their way to see Dix, whoever he might be, and hopefully Dix would help them find a way off this miserable world.
If he made it out of this, he’d try and pick up their trail and follow on behind — no, when he made it out of this. Because right now Jack knew that he was the only hope he had.