Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
“Warning: Unscheduled off-world activation.”
Colonel Jack O'Neill of the United States Air Force leapt up the stairs into the control room two at a time. He had been passing by on his way down to the labs, where he fully intended to bully the nerds of his team into eating lunch, when the alarm had sounded. Now he pounded into the small, dim room overlooking the Gate Room, a frown darkening his face.
“Who is it?” he demanded of Walter.
“IDC coming in now, sir,” Walter replied. He was a short, balding man, with blue eyes behind round glasses, and a bright disposition. Though he worked in one of the most dangerous facilities in the world, doing one of the most stressful and strenuous jobs on base—controlling the Gate—he never seemed to lose the shining spark in his gaze, the quick quirk of his lips, the ready laugh from his chest.
Jack liked him.
General George Hammond appeared in the stairwell down from the conference room and his office, a worried look on his face. “SG-5 wasn’t scheduled to report in for another six hours,” he said. “What—”
“It’s the Tok'ra, sir,” Walter said, butting in.
“Open the iris,” General Hammond commanded.
The shlink-thud of the iris opening rang through the Gate Room and the Control Room, and Walter’s and General Hammond’s faces were bathed with the shimmering, blue light of the active wormhole.
The wormhole shivered, then coalesced around the figure of a tall, humanoid man with blond hair and a pointed chin. He looked up at the control room as soon as his feet touched the ramp, scanning the faces there for something—or someone. Jack suspected he knew who the Tok'ra was looking for, and knew he would be disappointed, for Samantha Carter was not present.
The wormhole deactivated, plunging the room into eerie stillness and dimness. The Tok'ra waited patiently while General Hammond gestured for Jack to precede him down the Control Room stairs and into the Gate Room.
“Martouf,” Jack said with false warmth as he entered the Gate Room, the blast door sliding open at his oncoming footsteps.
“Colonel O'Neill,” Martouf replied with his customary stiffness. He sketched a bow and added, “General Hammond,” as the General entered as well. “Please, where is Major Carter?”
“Down in her lab,” Jack said with the barest hint of a frown emerging from behind his warm mask. “Why?”
“What I have to say concerns her greatly,” Martouf said, “and I would tell her first, before any other.”
Jack shared a look with General Hammond, who barely visibly shook his head in consternation—This isn’t how we do things here, he seemed to say—but then nodded. “Gather your team,” General Hammond ordered. “We will meet in the briefing room in half an hour.”
“Yes sir,” said Jack, before turning smartly on his heel and leaving the Gate Room.
Jack headed up to Level 18 first. The elevator rattled just as it always did as it passed Level 24, and the light fifteen steps past the elevator flickered just as it had for the last month and a half. It was comfortingly familiar, in a place where the unfamiliar happened almost daily, and it gave Jack a sense of reassurance as he caught the frame of Daniel’s office and swung himself through the doorway.
“Hello, Danny Boy,” Jack said brightly, blinking against the dimness that Daniel always kept his office in. Three desk lamps burned throughout the room, on various pieces of furniture—one on his desk, one on a bookshelf, the third on a table by the door—but the numerous books and papers scattered over every surface, and the maps and translation tools hung on what little spare spaces of walls there were, seemed to swallow the light.
“Oh,” said Daniel, looking up from the three books he had open on his desk. He swiveled around in his chair to look at Jack, then said, “Hey. What was the Offworld Activation?”
“Martouf,” Jack said bluntly.
“Oh,” said Daniel again. He looked down at his books, sighed, then marked them with leather bookmarks and closed them. “I take it we’re being summoned.” It was not a question.
“Yup,” said Jack anyway.
Daniel followed Jack out of his office, turning off the desk lamps as he went. He fell into step alongside Jack, stuffing his hands into his BDU pockets and adopting a pensive, thoughtful expression.
“Did Martouf say what he wanted?” Daniel asked. “We weren’t scheduled to have another meeting with the Tok’ra for another month, I thought.”
Jack shrugged. “All he said was that he wanted to talk to Carter.”
Daniel’s pensive look morphed into a frown. “He didn’t say why?”
“Nope,” said Jack.
They reached the elevator and Jack punched the button to call it. They waited in silence, Daniel bouncing on his toes, Jack humming quietly to himself. The elevator arrived with a small ding, and the two of them piled in past the two Airmen who exited.
Their ride was short—just one level down. Barely more than a little later, Daniel and Jack were arriving at Major Samantha Carter’s lab. The lights were on, and Carter was sitting at a lab table, writing by hand in a thick spiral-bound notebook.
“Whatcha working on?” Jack asked, coming to a halt beside Carter. He had learned a long time ago not to stop directly behind her without her knowing he was there; that was a good way to get an elbow in the gut or groin—a fact which he had learned the hard way.
Carter looked up at Jack and gave him a piercing look. “Do you really want to know?” she asked, tilting the notebook up just enough that Jack was able to get a good look at the scribbles of math and physics filling the entirety of the page.
“No,” Jack said, relieved that Carter had given him an out.
Daniel, standing behind Jack, laughed. “For the record,” he said, “I am actually curious.”
“You two can talk technobabble on the way to get Teal’c,” Jack said. “Now come on, Carter,” he added, shooing her off of her lab stool and out of the door, “you can scribble nonsense letters later. Right now we have a meeting to attend.”
Carter frowned, turning in her tracks to walk backwards so she could look at Jack. “We aren’t going off-world for another two days,” she protested. “That means we shouldn’t have a briefing until tomorrow—what’s come up?” She narrowed her eyes. “Does this have to do with the unscheduled off-world activation?”
“You two are far too smart,” Jack groused good-naturedly. “Yes,” he said. “As Daniel guessed—and you guessed—it has to do with the off-world activation. And before you ask, it’s Martouf, and no, I don’t know why he’s here. He just said he wanted to talk to you, and Hammond sent me to go collect you all.”
“You’re sure you have no idea why Martouf is here?” Carter asked as the elevator door closed on Level 19, and they began to descend again.
“I’m sure,” said Jack. “Like I said, all he said was that he wanted to talk to you.” He looked at Carter, whose frown grew.
“Me?” she asked. “Why me?” Then she paled.
“What?” Daniel asked.
“I just have a bad feeling,” Carter said stiffly, and then fell silent—and remained silent as the three of them trekked their way to the gym, where they all knew Teal’c would be exercising. He liked to work out in the mornings, between breakfast and lunch, unless they had meetings or were off-world—and even then he often did exercises before departing from their campsites at dawn.
Teal’c was lifting hand weights when they arrived, sweat glistening on his dark skin and a look of concentration stamped deep into his brow. He paused when he saw the three of them come in together, Jack in the lead, and then carefully placed the weights back onto their shelf.
“What has transpired?” he asked, walking over to them standing at the edge of the mats.
“Martouf showed up,” Jack informed him. “We’ve been summoned to debrief with him.”
Teal’c nodded, collected his towel from the rack on the wall, then followed the rest of the team out into the corridor, blotting his face and wiping his neck on the towel as he did so. Jack cast a glance over Teal’c, noting his sweat-soaked tank, his exercise pants, his soft-soled shoes, then said, “We have time if you’d like to change back into your BDUs.”
“I would appreciate that,” said Teal’c with a slight incline of his torso at the waist.
They detoured to Teal’c’s quarters, whereat Jack and the rest of the team waited outside in the hall while Teal’c changed. He appeared a few minutes later, clad in a standard issue black shirt and green BDU pants, boots, and with his jacket in hand. He pulled it on as they walked back to the elevator, buttoning it as they rode down to the 27th level.
Martouf was sitting stiffly at the conference table when Jack led SG-1 into the Briefing Room. General Hammond was just visible in his office, talking on the phone. Martouf looked up at the sound of their boots on the stairs, then rose quickly to his feet.
“Major Carter,” he said, moving so that he could reach out to clasp her hand. She gave it to him warily, sharing a quick, barely-there glance with Daniel. “I am glad to see you again. As I am you, Dr. Jackson, and you, Jaffa Teal’c.”
Daniel offered a smile, while Teal’c offered half a bow. Then the five of them sat down at the conference table to wait for General Hammond, who appeared a moment later. Jack and Carter leapt to their feet as he entered the room, and only sat again once he sank into the chair at the head of the table.
“Now tell us, Martouf,” said General Hammond seriously, “what brings you here?”
Jack watched as Martouf’s gaze slid from General Hammond to Carter, where it remained. “I fear it is Jacob and Selmak,” said Martouf grimly. Jack turned his own gaze on Carter, just in time to watch as she paled again and went very still, her lips thinning into a hard, white line.
“What about them?” she asked.
“We believe he was captured by the Goa’uld Khnum and his queen, Neith.”
“You believe?” Jack could not help but ask, leaning forward. “Then you don’t know for sure?”
“We are very sure,” said Martouf coldly.
“How?” Carter asked suddenly.
“How…what?” Martouf asked.
“How do you know he was captured? And how was he captured?”
“The latter we do not know, as we have had no contact with him or with our spies in Khnum’s courts since it happened. The former we know because he was meant to return to a rendezvous point two weeks ago, and we have heard nothing from him since.”
“Then he could be dead.” Carter’s voice was flat and emotionless, hiding the raging storm Jack knew had to be buried there.
Martouf sighed. “He could be dead,” he admitted. “However, if he had been slain, Khnum likely would have made it public that he had killed the Tok’ra Selmak—and we have heard nothing. We do not even know if Khnum knows that Selmak is a Tok’ra, though we cannot figure out any other reason why he would have been captured.”
“Thank you for bringing us this news,” said General Hammond, making to rise—only for Martouf to lift a hand.
“If you will, General,” he said, “bringing news of Selmak and Jacob’s capture was not my only errand here.”
General Hammond sat again. “What, then, is the rest of your errand?”
“We believe we have a way to extract Selmak and Jacob—or at least determine where he is, as well as make contact with our silenced spies. But doing so will require the aid of one of your teams.”
General Hammond raised on eyebrow. “Explain,” he ordered.
“Two days hence,” Martouf said, “we have had reports that a slave culling will take place. That means that slave raids will happen throughout the planets neighboring Khnum’s holdings. These slaves will be taken and used in his palace and in his capitol city on Kenturia. This will be the perfect opportunity to seed new spies in Khnum’s court.”
“And how does this affect my people?”
“We need humans—not hosts,” said Martouf. “Goa’uld can tell in an instant if there is a symbiote within a human. They will know immediately that we are Tok’ra if we try to infiltrate the slave market as hosts. Your people, however, can get in, and get close, without the Goa’uld knowing what is happening—without knowing that the slaves they have taken are Taur’i, or anything other than the beaten-down humans they are accustomed to dealing with.”
“What about me?” Carter asked, leaning forward. “My blood still contains the protein marker that Jolinar left. They’ll be able to tell I was a host.”
“A former host,” Martouf pointed out. “If a symbiote dies, the host is very commonly used as slave fodder. If anything, you would be in higher demand.”
“And what of Teal’c?” Jack asked, leaning forward as well. “Carter says she can feel Junior. Won’t the Goa’uld be able to tell that he’s a Jaffa?”
“We can seed him in with the Jaffa ranks,” said Martouf. “It will be trickier than getting the rest of you into the slave market, but it will be doable.”
“This is all assuming that I am on board with this idea,” said General Hammond, “which I am not.”
Carter turned to look at the General. “Please, Sir,” she said, and Jack was not sure if he had ever heard her sound so plaintive or pleading before. He expected a long-winded, verbose, moving speech from her—he knew she was capable of them, of stirring people to action, of rising blood and fervor—expected a call to action from their General. Instead all she said was, “He’s my father.”
General Hammond sighed. “What guarantees do you have that my people will be safe?” he asked Martouf.
“We will fit them with microscopic transponders, so we will know where they are at all times,” he promised. “Furthermore, we can install recording devices in their ear canals, so that we can monitor what they hear at all times. If something goes wrong, we can pull them out right away.”
“If they are slaves, though,” said General Hammond, “how do you expect they will escape?”
“We will send someone in to buy them,” said Martouf.
“And if their owners are not selling?”
“We can be…persuasive.”
General Hammond shook his head. “I do not like the idea of my people becoming property for anyone else,” he said, “even for a short amount of time. It goes against every principle and statute of our country.”
Jack, watching Carter, made up his mind.
“Shouldn’t it be our choices, sir?” he asked.
General Hammond looked at him with eyebrows raised.
“I mean,” Jack went on, “we’re the ones who will be suffering enslavement, if we agree to this. I assume we are the team you’ll be sending?”
“If I agree to it, yes,” said General Hammond. “You are.”
“Then should it not be our choice whether or not we get to put ourselves through this?” he asked.
“What kind of slavery will this be?” Daniel asked, speaking up for the first time since the debriefing had begun. “Chattel slavery? Old World slavery? Sex slavery?”
“You will likely be bought by Khnum’s steward,” said Martouf. “I will not lie and say that Khnum and Neith do not have…perverse tastes, but they are generally geared more towards younger children and adolescents. You are not in any danger of being used as sex slaves. Most likely you will find yourselves serving wine at banquets, and cleaning rooms and hallways, or mucking out stalls.”
Daniel sat back with a glance at Carter. “As disturbed as I am by that knowledge,” he said, “I’m willing to do this. If it helps us get Jacob and Selmak out, then what choice do we have, really?”
“I am willing to do this mission as well,” said Teal’c.
“Me too,” said Jack.
“I did not say you could go,” said General Hammond.
“He’s my father,” Carter said again, staring the General dead in the eye.
General Hammond sighed. “I know, Major,” he said heavily. “Which is why I am even considering it.” He looked up at Martouf. “I will inform you of my decision by the end of the day. You are more than welcome to remain here until then.”
“My thanks, General Hammond,” said Martouf.
“You all are dismissed,” said the General. He rose and disappeared into his office.
They all sat in silence for a long moment, sharing weighted looks. Then, abruptly, Jack stood as well, brought his hands together in a clap, and said, “Let’s go to O’Malley’s.”
Daniel looked at Jack as if he had gone crazy. “I’m not sure now is the time for steaks, Jack,” he said pointedly with a flick of his eyes toward Carter.
“Nope,” said Jack, “now is the perfect time for steaks. Plus, Martouf has never been, and it’s a national treasure. Right, Teal’c?”
“You are correct,” said Teal’c—though whether he suspected what Jack was intending or not, he had no way of knowing. Regardless, Jack was grateful that he was going along with it.
“So, O’Malley’s it is,” said Jack. He turned to Martouf, who was looking at them with a mixture of confusion and carefully concealed alarm. “Martouf, you’ll have to borrow some of our clothes—but you and Daniel should be about the same size. Daniel? Will you let him borrow some of your clothes?”
Daniel sighed, but with another glance at Carter, nodded. “Sure, Jack,” he said, sounding tired.
“Meet up top in fifteen minutes?” Jack asked.
The rest of the team nodded and they dispersed, Martouf dragged off by Daniel to his on-base quarters. Jack grabbed Carter on the way out, however, halting her just before she descended the metal steps to the Control Room, presumably to go talk to Walter about something before she went to change herself.
“It’s going to be okay,” Jack told her. He offered her a small smile. “We’ll figure something out.”
She nodded, then turned and left without another word, the metal stairs clanging beneath her boots.
Sighing, Jack went to change.
An hour later, they walked into O’Malley’s, Martouf wedged into the middle of them. He was dressed in one of Daniel’s t-shirts and jackets, as well as jeans and his Tok’ra boots. He looked strange, Jack thought—strange in an off-kilter way, as if seeing him without his Tok’ra uniform in its entirety made the entire world a little more insane and unhinged.
They had not talked much on the way down the mountain to the city, and when they had talked it had been about nothings: the weather—the winter they were having, the spring they hoped to have, the summer they feared having—and who was dating who on base. Martouf was silent throughout, looking even more and more confused the longer they talked about romantic interactions between people he had never heard of. Until, at last, “What am I doing here?” he asked as soon as their waitress had showed them to their booth.
“I need you here,” said Jack, “to plan.”
Martouf froze, as did everyone else around the table.
“What do you mean, Jack?” Daniel asked.
“I mean,” said Jack, “for all that he cares about Jacob and you, Carter, I don’t think the General is going to let us go on this mission. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t intend to let Jacob die in some Goa’uld prison when we could have done something about it.”
Martouf leaned forward. “I cannot jeopardize the treaty between our peoples,” he said. “If your General does not green light this mission, I cannot give you any of the safety precautions you would otherwise have. I can aid you personally, but the Tok’ra as a whole cannot—and it is only with their help that we can provide you with the transponder and the communication device.”
“We understand,” said Carter, speaking up and surprising Jack. She looked more eager than she had since Martouf had told them that Jacob was a prisoner. She did not smile, did not grin, but there was feral pleasure in her bright, blue eyes when she looked first at Martouf, then at Jack, then at Daniel and Teal’c.
“We’ll be going against orders,” Daniel pointed out.
“Since when has that stopped us before?” Jack asked.
“Before it was for the safety of the world,” Daniel said.
“And this is for Carter’s dad,” said Jack. “I don’t see a difference here.”
Daniel grinned mirthlessly. “I’m in,” he said, “don’t get me wrong. We just have to think this through. Before there wouldn’t have been a world to come back to if we failed. This time there is.”
“If you fail,” said Martouf, “you will most likely die.”
“Oh, good, thanks Martouf,” Jack said dryly.
“Then we succeed, and you and Sam get court martialed,” said Daniel. “And Teal’c loses his immunity, and I lose my job. What do we do then? Is it worth it?”
“How is this even a question?” Carter asked suddenly. “This is my father’s life, Daniel.”
“I know, Sam,” said Daniel, meeting her gaze squarely. “I just want to make sure we all know what we’re getting ourselves into.”
“We know,” said Teal’c.
Daniel nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Then let’s start planning.”
They talked their way through steaks, mashed potatoes, green beans, and thick slices of corn bread. They spoke of where to find Jacob and Selmak; what to do once they were captured; how to get themselves selected by Khnum’s steward; how they were going to extract themselves once they had Jacob and Selmak in their hands. But mostly they talked of how to escape the SGC and make it to the planet Martouf recommended as their staging point for the culling.
By the time they were scraping the last of the ice cream from their plates of Sundae Surprises, they thought they had a working plan.
“What now?” Martouf asked as they stood and gathered their coats, Carter grabbing her purse from the floor of the booth.
“Now we go back and pretend like we had a filling meal and a riveting conversation about Earth and Taur’i traditions,” said Jack, “and we wait to see if General Hammond approves the mission or not.”
They traipsed out of O’Malley’s and piled into Jack’s truck, Martouf squeezed into the back between Carter and Daniel, Teal’c up front with Jack. They drove back to Cheyenne Mountain in silence, each lost in thought as to what they were—likely—about to do.
Either way, thought Jack as they were waved through the gate and onto the base, it’s going to be an interesting next few weeks. Of that, Jack was certain.