The air was still and smelled of the river and the muddy reeds. Overhead, the stars had faded, and the first light of dawn grayed the sky. Jack looked to the east, where the sky was lighter still, a hint of pink showing on the low-lying clouds. Time he got things started, he thought, and turned away from his jumper. The other Teal’c was waiting with Basa, along with the other Daniel and Vala. The team from the future — and there was a phrase he’d never expected to use — were already sweating in their armored vests, though it was the hair and the tattoo that made Teal’c look so odd.
“Ready to move out?” he said, to Basa, and Mitchell peeled himself off the jumper where he’d been leaning.
“Time?”
“Time,” Jack said.
Teal’c looked at Mitchell. “Sergeant Basa believes he has a man on duty who will let us in the side gate undetected.”
“The guard is a man of mine, one I trained from a boy,” Basa said to Jack, who nodded.
“Is that going to work?” Mitchell asked.
“We relied on inside men last time,” Jack said. “It tended to work. Besides, if the gate doesn’t open, I imagine Colonel Carter’s already provided you with something that will bring down a wall.”
Vala smiled broadly. “As a matter of fact…” She held up several packets of C4.
“And for the armory door, too,” Jack said.
Teal’c nodded, massively competent as always. “If all goes as planned, I believe we will have little difficulty securing weapons for Sergeant Basa’s men.”
“And if it doesn’t go according to plan?” Mitchell asked. “No offense, but how often does that happen?”
“I do not believe that it will materially affect the outcome,” Teal’c answered, with a sudden smile.
Mitchell nodded. “Good enough for me.”
“The main thing,” Jack said, to Basa, “is to protect Pharaoh in case we fail. Make sure Sergeant Irer knows his job is to keep him safe. And yours is to keep the Jaffa too busy to attack the house.”
“Yes, O’Neill,” Basa said. “Be sure of it.”
They clasped hands, and Jack nodded again. “OK.”
He watched them form up, not the neat formation of his cadet days, but a differently disciplined line. One of Hor-Aha’s servants hauled back the gate, and Teal’c and Basa and Basa’s men vanished into the fading dark. Teal’c’s staff weapon, Jack thought. A couple of P90s, every zat he’d kept around the house, which was exactly three of them since Ellie was born, plus spears and bows and slings. And that was his fault, for not keeping a proper armory here, just like the whole attack was his fault. If he hadn’t talked Hor-Aha into letting them go look for a new symbiote for Teal’c, everything would have been fine. Except that Teal’c, his Teal’c, would be dead.
It was not a useful line of thought. He closed it down and walked back to the puddle jumpers, lined up as though on a flight line. Carolyn Lam turned at his approach, and held out a thermos and a stack of pottery cups.
“Coffee?”
It was instant and awful, tasting of the fire, and he closed his eyes in momentary bliss. “Too bad Danyel isn’t here.”
Mitchell took a sip from his own cup, and made a face. “I don’t know, he’d never stop complaining.”
“Not until he finished the thermos,” Jack said. “OK, kids, have we got any last questions?”
There was a resounding silence, even the Ancient woman shaking her head. She was the real unknown quantity, Jack thought. Not that he really believed she was going to betray them, or at least he didn’t think she was going to do anything that would help Ra, but her jumper was a flying wreck. Carter and Sam had gone over it, swapping out as many damaged crystals as they could manage, but it was still going to be a beast to fly. At least they all had a decent number of drones to work with, and Ai had to be a better than average pilot, or she never would have gotten the thing here in the first place.
“One more time,” he said aloud. “Sam, you’re with me, Carter with Ai, Mitchell with Dr. Lam. We’re going to wait until just past sunrise, and then we’re going to head for the pyramid. We’re going to take turns uncloaking — uncloak, recloak, change position as quick as you can — and then I’m going to get on the loudspeaker and tell Ra he’s parked in no-parking zone and has two minutes to move his car.” Ai was looking blank, and Jack stopped. “I’m going to tell him he has two minutes to begin preparing for lift-off, or we Ancients will express our disapproval. I don’t think he’s going to leave, but it’s worth a try. If it doesn’t work, then we redeploy. Ai, Dr. Lam, you’ll attack the mothership, I’ll handle any death gliders, and see if we can’t change his mind.”
“A mothership carries a lot of gliders,” Mitchell said.
“We’re invisible, remember?” Jack looked around, projecting a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. One puddle jumper against a flight of gliders — even with the drones able to follow a target on their own, it would be a hell of a fight. “They’re more likely to run into one of us by accident than to actually shoot us.”
Dr. Lam looked a little relieved, but he didn’t think either Mitchell or Carter was buying it. “And the Stargate?” Carter asked. “If Ra tries to take it, who stops him?”
“We do,” Sam said, firmly. “I’m more confident in the crystals on our jumper. And Ai’s is definitely out.”
Carter looked as though she wanted to protest, but finally nodded. “OK.”
“Copilots will handle communications,” Jack said. He’d rather do it himself, and probably would, but the other pilots would have enough to worry about. “Anything else?”
Mitchell shook his head. Ai said, “Thank you, Colonel O’Neill, for letting me fight with you. We have owed the Goa’uld this for a long time.”
“You’re welcome.” He could see the light gathering on the horizon, the limb of the sun pushing up out of the east, far beyond the river. “All right,” he said. “Time to go.”
Danyel attached himself to the crowd of servants entering the palace gates, head down, the basket he’d offered to carry for an older woman tucked under one arm. None of the Jaffa looked twice at him, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind them.
“Where can I take this for you?” he asked, and the old woman smiled and pointed.
“The kitchens, my son, if you’d be so kind.”
He carried it the rest of the way, accepted a small loaf of bread for his kindness, and extricated himself as quickly as he could. Dawn was breaking: he needed to find Teal’c and Aset before the attack began. At least the kitchen staff had been able to tell him where they were quartered, and he knew the palace. He threaded his way through the halls, trying to look as though he belonged, fetched up at last at the door of what had been the Queen Mother’s rooms. There were Jaffa on guard, of course, and he bowed deeply even before they could bar his way.
“Your pardon, but I have a message for the Lady Egeria.”
The senior of the two gave him a wary look. “Wait here,” he said, and disappeared into the room. A moment later, the door opened, and the other Jaffa gestured for him to enter.
Aset was looking splendid. Danyel blinked in spite of himself, seeing the scarlet robe, the gold in her hair and on her arms. And on her hand, too, the golden finger-stalls and disk of a Goa’uld palm device. At least Ra trusted her that far, he thought, and made another bow.
“Lady —”
She lifted her hand. “Leave us,” she said, to the Jaffa, who bowed and backed away, closing the door again behind him.
At her side, Teal’c relaxed fractionally, his hands easy on the staff weapon. “It is good to see you again, Danyel,” he said softly.
“Is everything all right?” Danyel asked. “Are you all right?”
“We are,” Teal’c said, but he shot a quick glance at Aset as he spoke.
“Has O’Neill’s attack begun?” That was Egeria who spoke, her voice resonant.
Danyel nodded. “At sunrise. He’s coming with the jumpers —”
Egeria lifted her weaponed hand. “Kneel.” A beam of light shot from the palm device, slamming him against the wall. Danyel rolled, shaking his head, but a second beam pinned him in place, driving him to his knees.
“Aset!” Teal’c stepped sideways, swinging his staff weapon to cover her.
“Be silent,” Egeria said, and in that instant the door slammed open. Out of the corner of his eye, Danyel saw the sweep of Ra’s formal robes, and then he was forced to the floor.
“What’s this?” Ra demanded. “You are meeting with traitors —”
“Meeting, my lord?” Egeria’s voice was richly amused. “Indeed not. I offer this one as a gift for you. This is Danyel Jackson, O’Neill’s minion.”
The pressure eased at last, and Danyel shoved himself back to his knees, shaking his head to drive away the pain behind his eyes. Teal’c’s staff weapon was trained on him, but the Jaffa looked a fraction less impassive than usual. We got it wrong, Danyel thought. Somehow we got it wrong, and this isn’t Egeria, not the real one. And now — we are so screwed. He glanced around the room, wondering if there was a way to make Teal’c shoot him — not fatally, he hoped, but enough to keep Ra from questioning him —
“Do not attempt it, Danyel Jackson,” Teal’c said, light snapping at the tip of the staff weapon, and Egeria lifted her hand again, holding him frozen.
“Shall I share what I have learned?”
Ra smiled slowly. “By all means. You intrigue me, Egeria.”
She bowed her head in regal acknowledgement. “Thank you, my lord. It is as you expected, O’Neill is planning a preemptive attack, and it will begin today —”
There was an explosion outside, from the direction of the pyramid. Jaffa shouted in answer, and Ra’s head snapped around. “What is this?”
“Lord!” A Jaffa captain came skidding up. “The ha’tak is taking fire from invisible ships.”
“Ancients,” Ra snarled. He looked at Egeria. “So O’Neill was one of them all along.”
She dipped her head. “Yes, my lord.”
And that was wrong, Danyel thought. Maybe there was still hope, if she was still lying — or maybe she was just humoring Ra, hoping to earn his favor.
“Bring him to the peltac,” Ra said. “We will meet this attack directly. And you, Egeria, will stand with me and watch my triumph.”
“It will be my pleasure, my lord,” she answered. She was still smiling as she released her hold, and a pair of Jaffa wrestled Danyel to his feet.
“You know, you really don’t want to upset the Ancients,” he began, and Egeria turned on him.
“Be silent! If you know what’s good for you, you will say nothing.”
She swept out in Ra’s wake, and Danyel cast a look of appeal toward Teal’c. Come on, he thought. Come on, give me a sign, give me a hint, here, let me know what game we’re playing — Teal’c shouldered his staff weapon, and motioned for the soldiers to drag him away.
Jack eased the jumper into the air, trying to relax into the Ancient interface. The displays lit obligingly, speed, attitude, course, weapons array, everything right where he wanted it on the heads-up, and he tried not to glare at it. In the tactical screen, he could see the other two jumpers rising to join him, forming up in echelon off his left — well, left pod, not wing, but it would do. They were all visible for the moment, high enough already to catch the first of the light, and he nodded to Sam.
“Time to cover up.”
She reached for the communications board. “Colonel Mitchell, Colonel Carter. Jack says it’s time to engage the cloak.”
It really wasn’t what he was used to from his copilot, but it would have to do. Disappear, he thought, frowning at the controls, and a light blinked on. “Does that mean —?” he began, and realized that the other jumpers no longer appeared in the standard displays. They were there on the tactical, though, right where they were supposed to be, and he looked at Sam.
“Are we invisible? It’s hard to tell from in here.” He thought the light brightened, but he pretended he didn’t see it.
“I’ll ask,” Sam said, calmly. “Colonel Mitchell, can you confirm that our cloak is working?”
“Sure is,” Mitchell answered. “And so’s Ai’s. How about ours?”
“Looking good,” Jack said. “Or, rather, not looking like anything, which is good…”
“We can’t see you either,” Sam said.
“Next stop, the pyramid,” Jack said, and tipped the jumper into a wide turn, heading north and east, following the river. The rising light glinted off its calm surface: they were too high to disturb the water even with a breeze. He glanced at the tac screen again, checking the formation. If he had more experienced pilots, he’d have them in close and tight, ready to give chase or offer support, but Dr. Lam was no real pilot, and Ai was an unknown quantity in combat. At least they had Mitchell and Carter to suggest tactics, but he was under no illusion about how useful that was likely to be. Like trying to defuse a bomb while wearing hockey gloves…
Ahead he could see the pyramid, capped by Ra’s ha’tak, lights flashing slowly along its massive sides. The glider bays were sealed, and there were no signs of charged weapons: good news, he thought, and nodded to Sam.
“OK, Sam. It’s show time.”
She touched the controls again. “Colonel Mitchell, Colonel Carter, are you ready?”
“Ready and waiting,” Mitchell answered, and Carter echoed him a second later.
“On my mark,” Jack said. “Two… one… now!”
As he spoke, he pitched the jumper up, sent it soaring over the tip of the ha’tak, looped down to drop the cloak and fire a single drone. He swung away immediately, but not before he saw the drone explode short of the ha’tak’s hull: the mothership was shielded, Cloak, dammit, he thought, and the light reappeared. The tac screen showed two more hits, but no damage, and then another jumper — Ai’s, he thought — flashed into view. Another drone exploded against the shield, and he swung the jumper up and out of range, telling it to uncloak as he went.
“Turn on the loudspeaker,” he said, and Sam nodded.
“You’re good.”
“Ra!” The jumper damped his voice, but he could feel the echo, knew he was reaching everyone in the palace compound. “You’ve made a mistake coming back here, but we’re willing to be generous. Go now, and we’ll let you leave in peace. Otherwise —” He stopped, hoping silence would be more suggestive than an outright threat.
“That didn’t sound very Ancient,” Sam said.
“Everyone’s a critic.” Jack frowned at the tac display, seeing power building inside the ha’tak. “Crap. Heads up, people, looks like they’re arming the guns.”
Yes, a port was opening, there on the ha’tak’s side. Cloak, he thought again, and felt a shudder as the jumper obeyed. He swung the jumper through a series of quick turns, banked around and to the left, and realized nothing was pursuing him. Instead, light flared from the tip of the ha’tak, a glowing cloud that shimmered and formed itself into a giant head: Ra’s head, surveying his palace and his invisible attackers.
Sam gave a nervous laugh. “Pay no attention to the little man behind the curtain…”
“I have been patient,” Ra said, “a kindly god, willing to forgive, to restore my people to favor. But no more. You will feel only my anger.”
The image winked out, and in the same instant the glider bays opened.
“Ah, crap,” Jack said, and dragged the jumper out of the way of the first stream. “OK, kids, it’s time for Plan B.”
“Down,” Cam said, and kept his voice calm and conversational. Mercifully, Carolyn didn’t ask questions, just angled the jumper toward the deck, swooping low under the skirts of the mothership where it perched on the pyramid. The first flight of death gliders screamed overhead, missing their previous position by less than a meter. The view in the windscreen rocked, but the inertial dampeners kept everything steady.
“Drone,” she said, and the jumper released one, sent it shooting up into the ha’tak’s underbelly. Shields flared, but there was a shower of broken stone from the pyramid itself. That’s an option, Cam thought. Destroy the pyramid and chase Ra off that way. Except it would leave a hell of a lot of collateral damage.
His eyes were still on the tactical display, following the gliders as they fanned out into a search pattern. Whoever was in charge was good, wasn’t fazed by the problem of invisible attackers; he was willing to spend gliders to draw them out, spot any pattern that formed —
A drone struck, taking out a glider above them, and Carolyn heeled the jumper over the top to avoid the debris. The gliders were dropping lower now, weaving a defensive pattern around the ha’tak, and he glanced at Carolyn, checking to see if she needed advice. Her face was calm, almost relaxed, her hands easy on the controls, but she was going to be trapped if she didn’t —
“Break left,” he said, and she tipped the jumper sideways, sliding out between two gliders.
“Thanks.”
Another drone hit, and another, taking out gliders at the top of the pattern, and Carolyn frowned in concentration. “Drone,” she said again, and Cam said, “Wait —”
It was too late, the drone had already launched, and sure enough a glider made a beeline for their position.
“Oops,” Carolyn said, and dragged the jumper almost straight up. One of the glider’s shots hit home, but the rest passed harmlessly behind them. Lights flared on her controls, vanished again. “Sorry —”
“They’re going to shoot where the drones originate,” Cam said. “Fire and turn, that’s the plan.”
“Right.” Carolyn launched a salvo of drones, five of them in a tight bunch that instantly spread to seek new targets. Another glider pounced, but she was already diving, the jumper rolling onto its side. The ground spun in the windscreen as more gliders turned toward the source of the drones, firing blind, and Cam grabbed the edge of the control panel. Carolyn spun the jumper the other way, scraping between two gliders, pulled up and out of the fight.
“OK, that was too close,” she said.
“It’s only too close if you hit them,” Cam answered, and was rewarded by a shaky smile.
Below them, Ai’s jumper popped into sight, and the gliders turned to pursue.
“We’ve lost the cloak!” Carter called, her voice crackling as though they were losing communications, too, and Carolyn flung the jumper into a tight turn, swooping down behind the attacking gliders. She fired drones, taking out two of them; three more exploded — O’Neill’s work — and Ai clawed for maneuvering room. She dived between two gliders, who pitched over to avoid her, and one clipped wings with his fellow, went tumbling out of control. The heads-up display placed the crash on the far side of the river, and a thick column of smoke rose from the reeds.
“Come on, Carter,” Cam muttered. The jumper was a sitting duck, visible like that, and there was only so much they could do to help.
Carolyn fired again, the drones homing hungrily on the chosen gliders, but the rest of the flight ignored the attack, concentrating on the one enemy they could see. Ai spun through a tight turn, trying to put the mothership between her ship and the attackers, but the gliders stayed glued to her tail. She fired back, but the drones seemed weaker, as though there was other damage, and the jumper rocked as a beam clipped the edge of a pod.
“Carter —” Cam leaned forward as though that would help, urging them on.
A second jumper popped into view, O’Neill hauling the stubby ship into a scorching, impossible turn. He fired a salvo of drones, and another pair of gliders fell. Part of the flight turned to follow him, and he vanished, to reappear a moment later on the far side of the fight. This time, though, a glider was waiting, and the beams stitched a pattern along the jumper’s side.
“Cover him, Carolyn,” Cam said, and she launched a drone, taking out the glider, then spun her ship toward Ai’s jumper, firing as she went.
Ai’s jumper disappeared at last — the heads-up showed it pulling out and away, presumably to check the damage — and O’Neill blasted another glider from the sky. And then, abruptly, the gliders pulled away, running for the shelter of the mothership. The bay doors opened, and Cam pointed.
“See if you can —”
“Got it,” Carolyn said, and launched a drone. It flew true, but the armored door slid closed again, and it impacted on the surface, leaving only a smear of scorched metal. “Damn, it didn’t go in.”
“Missed that one,” O’Neill said. “Any luck on your side?”
“Nope,” Cam answered. “They got the doors closed too fast.”
“Yeah.” O’Neill paused. “Carter. What’s your status?”
“The cloak’s back on line,” Carter answered, after a moment, “but we’re on reduced power. It’s affecting the drones —”
“Crap,” Cam said. Lights flared across the boards and in the heads-up: the ha’tak was powering up at last.
“Maybe they’re leaving,” Carolyn said, but she didn’t sound like she believed it either.
“Get ready,” O’Neill said, and for the first time, he sounded grim. “If he goes for the Stargate — this could get ugly fast.”
There was no resistance at the city gate. And only a handful of men at the armory. Basa summoned them to surrender, Daniel translating in a whisper, and they did so with relief, promising that their loyalty had been to the Pharaoh all along. Basa neither believed nor disbelieved, Teal’c saw with approval, but locked them into the small back room and left a couple of men on guard before he began handing out weapons.
“Basa says that Ra pulled most of the Jaffa back to the pyramid,” Daniel reported. “They don’t know about Aset or Danyel.”
Egeria, at least, was probably on the mothership, Teal’c thought. Or she should be, if everything had proceeded according to plan. He looked up sharply as the first explosions sounded from the pyramid, and motioned Basa and his men toward the door. “We must secure the gates,” he said. “And make certain Ra’s Jaffa cannot leave the compound.”
Basa nodded, already dividing his men — slightly less than half to guard the gates, the rest forming up, ready to approach the palace. O’Neill’s amplified voice boomed outside, warning the Goa’uld to abandon the planet. Teal’c waved his men forward, ducked out through the armory’s narrow door.
Ra’s head loomed above them, a hundred times life-size, frowning down on the compound, his voice as loud as thunder, loud enough to shake the ground. “— You will feel only my anger.”
Basa’s men checked, slowed by the sight and sound, a god-like illusion, and even Basa looked pale.
“It’s a trick,” Daniel said, and repeated himself in Egyptian. “Teal’c, tell them it’s a trick.”
“It is an illusion,” Teal’c said strongly, heard Daniel translate. “It is unreal, a phantom — it cannot harm or even see you. I am Jaffa, I have seen this before. It is a picture —” He couldn’t find an analogy that would make sense — Chulak’s technology had been more advanced than this — and from the look on Daniel’s face, neither could he. “It is not real,” Teal’c said again, but he could see that they were wavering. “Look!”
He lifted his staff weapon, took aim at the looming face. One of the Egyptians cried out, covering his eyes, and Teal’c fired, the blast rising into the bright sky. It passed through the image as though it wasn’t there — as though it was what it was, a trick of projected light — and was gone. The image didn’t waver, but didn’t respond, either, and he saw Basa’s eyes narrow.
“See?” Daniel said. “It doesn’t even know we’re here.”
Basa shouted something, waved his men forward, and, when they were slow to respond, grabbed the nearest one by the arm and shoved him forward.
“To the palace,” Teal’c said, and Daniel translated.
The main doors stood wide, and the great hall was empty, a stool overturned and the leopard skin askew on the great throne. Teal’c turned in a careful circle, staff weapon ready, but nothing moved among the painted pillars.
“Well, this is interesting,” Vala said. “Do you think he’s actually leaving?”
“Not without a fight,” Teal’c said.
Something did move then in the mouth of the corridor that led behind the throne. Teal’c turned, his weapon snapping up to cover the opening, but Daniel caught his arm.
“Wait!”
“Do not fire, I am a friend!” The English words were accented, but understandable, and Teal’c relaxed just a little. An older woman emerged from the shadows, her wig disordered, her hands held well clear of her body.
Basa visibly relaxed, saying something, and Daniel said, “Basa says this is the priestess Mutnod, who has served Pharaoh and his father.”
“The Jaffa have gone,” she said. “They have left the building. There are none here but servants, and they will obey you. But — they have taken Danyel.”
“What?” Vala’s yelp was sheer surprise, but Mutnod took it for disbelief.
“I regret, Lady, but it is so. They have taken him to the pyramid, before the fighting began.”
“Crap,” Daniel said. He looked at Teal’c, the question obvious, and Teal’c nodded.
“Take Vala, Daniel Jackson, and see if you can find him. We will keep the Jaffa pinned down.”
Daniel nodded. “As long as he’s in the pyramid —” He broke off, shaking his head.
Teal’c tilted his head gravely. If Danyel had been taken aboard the mothership — there was very little they could do to save him. “Indeed,” he said, and hoped the priestess was right.
Danyel worked his wrists cautiously, testing the bonds that secured his hands behind his back. They were just as solid as they’d been five minutes ago, and five minutes before that, and he looked back at the pel’tac’s viewscreen, where death gliders swirled, searching for an invisible enemy. So far, so good, Jack, he thought. You’ve got them literally chasing their tails…
If he looked sideways, he could see Egeria watching from beside Ra’s throne, Teal’c impassive one step behind and to her right. His back hurt from being thrown against the wall, and his forehead stung as if he’d been burned, though he didn’t feel quite as bad as he usually did after being questioned with a hand device. Of course Egeria hadn’t questioned him, exactly, but so far neither had Ra, and he was hoping maybe Ra would be too busy to think of it.
“Nean’tac.” Ra pushed himself to his feet. The Jaffa at the main controls turned, bowing, but not before Danyel saw the gold mark of a First Prime on his forehead.
“My lord?”
“The commander of the gliders is to be punished. Their showing is deplorable.” In the viewscreen, another glider exploded, and Ra’s frown deepened. “See to it now.”
“Now, my lord?” The First Prime held his ground, even as he kept his eyes carefully downcast.
“Yes, now. See if his second can do any better.” Ra moved to the controls, his fingers tapping impatiently on the gilded surface. “Go!”
“Yes, my lord.” Nean’tac bowed again, even more deeply, and disappeared from the control room.
“And you.” Ra turned again, and Danyel braced himself, unable to keep from flinching at the sight of the raised hand device. “You’re no Ancient.”
“No,” Danyel said. “No, I’m not, but —”
Ra ignored him. “You must learn to be more careful, Egeria. He cannot be effectively questioned for some days yet. Their minds require a knife’s blade, not a hammer.”
“My apologies, my lord,” Egeria answered. “I am new to this, and perhaps I was carried away.”
“Your zeal is forgivable, but inconvenient,” Ra said. “As for you, Daniel Jackson… I knew all along you had the Ancients on your side. You could not have defeated me otherwise.”
“Yes, well,” Danyel said. “We certainly have their help now, and you probably ought to be thinking about doing what Jack said, because frankly you’re getting slaughtered out there —”
Ra lifted his hand, and the nearest Jaffa swung his staff weapon, catching him in the back of his knees. Danyel fell forward, unable to catch himself with his hands bound behind him. He worked his way back to his knees to find Ra smiling down at him.
“So you admit that the Ancients are aiding you.”
“You see their fleet in action,” Danyel said. “They’ve taken us under their protection —”
Ra backhanded him, hard enough to send him sprawling. Danyel winced, tasting blood where the hand device had cut his mouth, and the impassive Jaffa hauled him upright again.
“The Ancients are a dying race,” Ra said. “Their protection is worthless.”
“It’s working out all right so far,” Danyel said, in spite of knowing better. This time, he was able to ride the blow, and the Jaffa caught him before he fell.
“You are a fool to defy me,” Ra said. “As you shall soon learn. In the meantime —” He turned back to the controls, waving the Jaffa pilot out of the way. “We shall do what we should have done when first we abandoned this wretched planet. We will take the gate of the gods, and leave you bereft.”
Danyel swallowed his instinctive protest. Jack had a plan, he and Sam knew how to stop this, they would make sure it didn’t happen — and if that meant he couldn’t get back, well, it was worth the sacrifice… He jerked at his bonds again, the thin shackles biting his wrists. There had to be a way off, somehow, if Egeria or Teal’c could only help him —
Ra rested his hands on the controls, fingers spread, and the ha’tak shuddered gently. The view in the screens changed as it rose serenely from the tip of the pyramid and hovered above the Stargate.