Fic: 'Falling Back to Earth' (4/7)
Falling Back to Earth
Chapter Four
Lying on a high bluff, Jack focuses his binoculars on the city spreading out below him.
The forest bordering the path from the Stargate had dropped away after another two miles. The thick tangle of trees and brush were gradually replaced by farms and then close built structures that eventually culminate in an enormous fortified castle sitting at the apex of the next hill. The castle seems the most logical location for prisoners to be held, but leaves the problem of somehow finding their way through the sprawling city surrounding it.
Unlike Abydos, this planet seems populated by soldiers rather than slaves. Men, women, and children of solid, good health all move about the streets with the same black mark on their foreheads.
“This could be where they originate,” Daniel postulates from his position next to Jack.
Frankly Jack couldn’t care less where the alien soldiers come from. He just needs to figure out a way to get past them.
“Huh,” Daniel says.
Jack lowers his binoculars, glancing over at Daniel. “What?”
“The marks on their foreheads, they look like a snake.”
Jack glances down at the drawing Daniel’s sketched out in his journal. “So?”
“So, in Egyptian mythology, Ra had a brother named Apophis whose symbol was the snake.”
Brother? Great. Jack can only hope they hadn’t been close. At least not close enough for this Apophis to take it personal that they shoved a nuke up Ra’s ass. So much for being the last of his kind. “Exactly how many gods were there in Egypt?”
Daniel adjusts his glasses. “A lot.”
“Wonderful,” Jack breathes, lifting his binoculars and tracking the movement in the streets below. There’s only a small contingent of humans present, most likely slaves to judge by their dress and activities, the way they bow out of the way of the soldiers. If Jack and Daniel can’t pass for soldiers, their best bet of blending in will have to be the slaves.
“There,” Jack says, locating a relatively isolated homestead on the outskirts. In the unattended yard is a clothesline with light-colored robes drying in the sun.
“What?” Daniel asks.
“Our way in.”
* * *
The small road switchbacks its way up the rear side of the hill the castle sits on, seemingly purposefully tucked out of sight like no one wants to see a servant unless they absolutely have to. That’s fine with Jack.
The stream of slaves walking up the road is accompanying various wagon-loads of supplies. Jack takes this to mean that either the castle is packed full of very hungry aliens, or some sort of special event is taking place. Either way, it allows Daniel and Jack to slip anonymously into a group of slaves with very little fuss.
Reaching the top of the path, the wagon and slaves come to a stop at what looks like a back entrance guarded by two of the aliens. The slaves begin to unload the wagon and carry the supplies up the stairs to the door. Jack jerks his head towards the wagon, picking up a flagon and leaving Daniel to follow his lead.
Jack’s almost up the steps when one of the guards lowers his weapon across his path, grunting something to him. The alien doesn’t seem angry so much as just wanting something from Jack. There’s just the small problem that Jack has no idea what the hell the guy just said. He keeps his eyes trained on the ground, trying not to give the guy any reason to look too closely at him, hoping he might just let him pass.
The guard jabs Jack in the shoulder, repeating his question again.
Hell. Jack’s almost resigned himself to blowing their cover when Daniel appears, holding out his flagon to the guard. The guard swipes it from his hands, barking something and gesturing at Jack.
Daniel starts rattling away rapidly in Abydonian, bowing lowly over and over again like a hyperactive cork bobbing in water, gesturing to Jack occasionally with an apologetic look on his face.
The guard doesn’t look so much appeased as bored with Daniel’s yammering, waving them forward into the castle with an impatient growl. Daniel not so subtly shoves Jack from behind, clearly wanting him to continue up the stairs. Jack doesn’t need to be told twice.
“That was close,” Daniel breathes once they are safely inside.
“What did you say?” Jack asks, keeping his head lowered as they follow the other slaves down a set of stairs.
Daniel grins. “I told him you were slow in the head, but strong in the back.”
“Oh for…,” Jack complains.
“Hey, it worked!”
Following the other slaves, Jack’s eyes sweep down the length of the corridor, finally settling on a doorway halfway down on the right.
He slows his steps until the other slaves disappear around the next turn. “Here,” he says, pushing Daniel towards the doorway.
It turns out to be a small twisting staircase spiraling downward into darkness.
“Down is always a good bet for prisons, right?” Jack asks.
“If you say so,” Daniel says, peering down into the dark.
* * *
Unfortunately ‘down’ doesn’t turn out to be as helpful as Jack might have hoped. The castle seems to be segmented into a below stairs servants quarters, and it takes them a good forty minutes to find a way out into the main area of the castle. Despite the weight and annoyance, Jack still has his damn flagon over one shoulder in case Daniel has to tap dance his way through explaining their presence somewhere they don’t belong.
It turns out Jack needn’t have worried. When they inevitably come face to face with various guards, more elegantly dressed slaves, or the occasional gold lamé cross-dresser, none of them give Jack or Daniel a second glance. They just press against the wall and keep their eyes glued to the floor as they pass. Either these guys aren’t used to being infiltrated-and the soldier’s armor and general clunking around tells Jack they probably aren’t big on subterfuge-or they are just far too used to overlooking their lowly slaves. Just like back on Abydos. Jack is perfectly happy to use that against them.
It takes them another hour of eavesdropping on conversations and wandering to finally discover the giant jail cell down in the lowest part of the castle. Only one guard stands watch over the cell, but it’s still one guard too many.
Jack’s ruminating on their best approach when without a word, Daniel grabs the flagon from Jack’s hands. He darts out into the corridor before Jack can stop him. Jack swears under his breath.
Daniel walks straight up to the guard and offers up the flagon with both hands, his head bowed.
The guard looks at him with a mix of obvious interest and suspicion, asking Daniel a question.
Daniel lifts his offering again, saying something back to him.
Jack’s reaching for his weapon when the guard finally takes the flagon and disappears around the corner with it. He waits for the guard to return, but Daniel just waves animatedly for Jack to come out of hiding.
“What was that?” Jack demands as he joins Daniel in front of the cell.
“Obviously there is a big party going on somewhere,” Daniel says. “I figured he might be annoyed not to be included.”
Jack shakes his head. Daniel logic. There is nothing quite like it anywhere else in the universe.
“Kawalsky?” Jack calls as loud as he dares, his eyes skimming the crowd of men behind the bars for a familiar face.
“Colonel!” he says, shoving forward through the crowd.
Jack looks Kawalsky over, glad to see that he’s in one piece.
“How did you get here, sir?” Kawalsky asks.
“Long story,” Jack says, his eyes sweeping the cell. “Is Skaara with you?”
Kawalsky winces. “They took him, about two hours ago. Something about a choosing?”
Damn. Jack does not like the sound of that. “What about Captain Carter?”
“Carter?” Kawalsky echoes. “Did she get taken too?”
Jack feels his stomach drop. “She’s not with you?”
Kawalsky shakes his head. “Haven’t seen her, sir.”
Daniel’s eyes dart across the crowd of men behind Kawalsky. “Maybe they are keeping the women separate? In another cell?”
Jack shares a dark look with Kawalsky, neither of them pleased by what that might imply. Not to mention that despite their extensive wandering, Jack hasn’t seen evidence of another cell down here, meaning Sam could be anywhere.
Jack tugs experimentally at the bars. They don’t give even a millimeter. Kawalsky points across the hall. “I’m pretty sure those are the controls they use to open the door.”
Jack and Daniel stare at the panel on the wall. It looks completely out of place in the face of the stone architecture and rusty bars. Jack can’t even hazard a guess what the strange symbols could mean. He looks at Daniel.
“I could try,” Daniel says. To his credit, he doesn’t just start poking away at the keys.
“And if you’re wrong?” Being able to read an alien language is one thing, understanding alien technology another all together. They can’t afford to trip any alarms until they’ve tracked down Sam. He is not leaving here without her.
Crossing back to the cell, Jack slips Kawalsky his handgun and radio, and for good measure, a block of C4 and a detonator. Worst case, Kawalsky can bust himself out of here.
“Okay,” Jack says. “We’re going to track down Carter and Skaara, figure out the best way to get the hell out of here, and then come back for you.”
Kawalsky nods, slipping the equipment into his jacket pocket. “Yes, sir.”
“We’ll be back,” Jack repeats, wanting Kawalsky to know there is no way in hell he’s leaving him in here.
Kawalsky nods. “I know you will, sir.”
* * *
Jack and Daniel spend another fruitless two hours searching the lower floors. Luckily they prove to be lightly populated. Then again, they are also completely empty of female prisoners or convenient signs reading, “You are here”, with a nice map of the entire castle.
It’s on the third floor that they nearly trip over a procession of guards flanking an imperious looking couple, with a third slighter figure following behind. A familiar figure despite the arrogant curl of his lips and the fancy robes.
Jack can’t really say what makes him do it.
“Skaara,” Jack says, stepping out in to the hall.
The boy turns and for one moment Jack has the stupid thought that everything is going to be okay. Then Skaara’s hand lifts, his eyes flashing, a burst of light erupting from his palm. It lifts Jack off his feet, slamming him back against a pillar. He crumples to the floor, pain radiating the entire length of his body.
He thinks he can hear Daniel yell something, but then they are both lying on the ground, the guards having tackled them to the floor.
Above them, Skaara waves one hand with careless grace, ordering something Jack doesn’t need translated to understand. All Jack can see is the hem of Skaara’s gold robe as he disappears around a corner.
One of the guards belts something that sounds like ‘brie’, the sound of weapons arming echoing in the hall.
Jack squeezes his eyes shut, cursing himself for his moment of utter stupidity, but the expected shot never comes. He opens his eyes to find one of the alien soldiers leaning down over him. From Jack’s position, the guy looks huge, with dark skin and a brilliant gold tattoo on his forehead.
The big guy’s fingers pull out Jack’s dog tags, his thumb rubbing across his name and serial number. Like maybe he’s seen them before.
Jack tries to read something in the guard’s expression, but he just drops the tags with a dismissive flick of his wrist, saying something to his underlings.
Jack and Daniel are dragged back to their feet, their hands roughly bound in front of them with metal manacles of a sort. “What he’d say?”
“He’s asked them to remove us to a…chamber of some sort,” Daniel says, still sounding out of breath.
Jack doesn’t know if that hesitation is born of an uncertain translation or if Daniel is just hiding something. He doesn’t get a chance to ask as they are shoved down the hall and into a large room.
There are weapons hanging from the walls, some staff weapons, others smaller scaled wooden replicas. Now Jack gets it. They are going to be interrogated before they are killed. A long table runs the length of the room on one side and Daniel and Jack are shoved down into chairs in front of it. The Big Guy is standing over their confiscated weapons and equipment laid out on the table. He pokes at the radios, the guns.
“How did you come to be on this planet?” he asks in perfect, clear English.
Daniel’s mouth pops open, and Jack jumps in before he can get a word in. “We took a 747 out of O’Hare. You?”
The guy doesn’t miss a beat. “Why are you here?”
“Vacation,” Jack shoots back, leaning back in his chair as if completely relaxed. “We hear the weather around here is real nice this time of year.”
Their interrogator seems neither surprised nor particularly annoyed by Jack’s nonsensical answers. The guy takes laconic to a whole other level. He stares hard at Jack for a long moment before his lips twitch just the slightest bit as if to tell Jack he is completely transparent.
Big Guy picks up a M16. “These weapons. I have not seen their like before.”
“I’d be happy to demonstrate how they work,” Jack offers. “Just release my hands.”
His lips curve in something that in no way resembles a smile. “That will not be necessary.”
Walking across the room, Big Guy lifts Jack’s tags once more, his thumb rubbing across the raised words. “You came to this planet to take back the ones like you,” he surmises. He pulls on the tags, the chain digging in to the back of Jack’s neck and forcing him to lean forward. “Did you not?”
Jack stares stubbornly back, his jaw tightening. He gets the strange feeling that Big Guy wants something from him, like he’s looking for something specific in his reaction and Jack just can’t hold in the question, even if it means showing his cards. “There was a woman. Like us.”
There’s a flash of recognition in the guard’s face.
“Where is she?” Jack asks.
Big Guy abruptly releases the tags, Jack rocking back into his chair and almost losing his balance.
“Jaffa,” he calls, barking something at his men.
They are dragged back up out of their chairs.
“Where is she?” Jack demands again, struggling against the hands on him.
The Big Guy doesn’t look back at him, still staring down at the weapons on the table.
Daniel leans close to Jack as they are dragged out into the hall. “They’re taking us to the holding cell.”
Great, talk about back to square one. But it’s still better than execution.
Jack keeps his eyes open for any opportunity to break free of their escort as they make their way down the now familiar route, but between being bound and severely outnumbered, Jack is pretty sure they can’t count on being underestimated anymore.
The big one…something tells Jack he’s different.
The Big Guy reappears by the time they reach the cell. He steps up to Jack to remove his restraints himself, which seems a bit below his pay grade. It’s not until he shoves Jack roughly through the door that Jack realizes he’s slipped something into his hand. Jack whips his head around to look at the guard through the bars closing between them. The guard holds his gaze a beat before his eyes slide away. Jack thinks he sees an apology in the gesture. Guilt.
Jack feels the hard edges of the dog tags against his palm, but absolutely refuses to believe what it might mean.
“Jack?” Daniel asks from next to him.
Taking a breath, Jack forces himself to open his hand, to look down at the metal plates resting on his palm.
Sergeant Jessica Hoyt.
The relief almost floors him, a sick swoop in his stomach only made worse by the knowledge that even if Sam is still okay somewhere, another woman, a fellow airman, is not.
“They’re not hers,” Jack breathes.
“Whose?” Daniel asks, looking down at his hand with interest. “Captain Carter’s?”
Jack clears his throat, trying to drag it all back inside, looking up just in time to see Kawlasky moving towards them through the crowd.
“Welcome back, sir,” he says.
“Told ya we’d be back,” Jack forces himself to joke, looking away from Daniel’s far too knowing gaze.
He slips the dog tags into his pocket.
:: next::
Chapter Four
Lying on a high bluff, Jack focuses his binoculars on the city spreading out below him.
The forest bordering the path from the Stargate had dropped away after another two miles. The thick tangle of trees and brush were gradually replaced by farms and then close built structures that eventually culminate in an enormous fortified castle sitting at the apex of the next hill. The castle seems the most logical location for prisoners to be held, but leaves the problem of somehow finding their way through the sprawling city surrounding it.
Unlike Abydos, this planet seems populated by soldiers rather than slaves. Men, women, and children of solid, good health all move about the streets with the same black mark on their foreheads.
“This could be where they originate,” Daniel postulates from his position next to Jack.
Frankly Jack couldn’t care less where the alien soldiers come from. He just needs to figure out a way to get past them.
“Huh,” Daniel says.
Jack lowers his binoculars, glancing over at Daniel. “What?”
“The marks on their foreheads, they look like a snake.”
Jack glances down at the drawing Daniel’s sketched out in his journal. “So?”
“So, in Egyptian mythology, Ra had a brother named Apophis whose symbol was the snake.”
Brother? Great. Jack can only hope they hadn’t been close. At least not close enough for this Apophis to take it personal that they shoved a nuke up Ra’s ass. So much for being the last of his kind. “Exactly how many gods were there in Egypt?”
Daniel adjusts his glasses. “A lot.”
“Wonderful,” Jack breathes, lifting his binoculars and tracking the movement in the streets below. There’s only a small contingent of humans present, most likely slaves to judge by their dress and activities, the way they bow out of the way of the soldiers. If Jack and Daniel can’t pass for soldiers, their best bet of blending in will have to be the slaves.
“There,” Jack says, locating a relatively isolated homestead on the outskirts. In the unattended yard is a clothesline with light-colored robes drying in the sun.
“What?” Daniel asks.
“Our way in.”
* * *
The small road switchbacks its way up the rear side of the hill the castle sits on, seemingly purposefully tucked out of sight like no one wants to see a servant unless they absolutely have to. That’s fine with Jack.
The stream of slaves walking up the road is accompanying various wagon-loads of supplies. Jack takes this to mean that either the castle is packed full of very hungry aliens, or some sort of special event is taking place. Either way, it allows Daniel and Jack to slip anonymously into a group of slaves with very little fuss.
Reaching the top of the path, the wagon and slaves come to a stop at what looks like a back entrance guarded by two of the aliens. The slaves begin to unload the wagon and carry the supplies up the stairs to the door. Jack jerks his head towards the wagon, picking up a flagon and leaving Daniel to follow his lead.
Jack’s almost up the steps when one of the guards lowers his weapon across his path, grunting something to him. The alien doesn’t seem angry so much as just wanting something from Jack. There’s just the small problem that Jack has no idea what the hell the guy just said. He keeps his eyes trained on the ground, trying not to give the guy any reason to look too closely at him, hoping he might just let him pass.
The guard jabs Jack in the shoulder, repeating his question again.
Hell. Jack’s almost resigned himself to blowing their cover when Daniel appears, holding out his flagon to the guard. The guard swipes it from his hands, barking something and gesturing at Jack.
Daniel starts rattling away rapidly in Abydonian, bowing lowly over and over again like a hyperactive cork bobbing in water, gesturing to Jack occasionally with an apologetic look on his face.
The guard doesn’t look so much appeased as bored with Daniel’s yammering, waving them forward into the castle with an impatient growl. Daniel not so subtly shoves Jack from behind, clearly wanting him to continue up the stairs. Jack doesn’t need to be told twice.
“That was close,” Daniel breathes once they are safely inside.
“What did you say?” Jack asks, keeping his head lowered as they follow the other slaves down a set of stairs.
Daniel grins. “I told him you were slow in the head, but strong in the back.”
“Oh for…,” Jack complains.
“Hey, it worked!”
Following the other slaves, Jack’s eyes sweep down the length of the corridor, finally settling on a doorway halfway down on the right.
He slows his steps until the other slaves disappear around the next turn. “Here,” he says, pushing Daniel towards the doorway.
It turns out to be a small twisting staircase spiraling downward into darkness.
“Down is always a good bet for prisons, right?” Jack asks.
“If you say so,” Daniel says, peering down into the dark.
* * *
Unfortunately ‘down’ doesn’t turn out to be as helpful as Jack might have hoped. The castle seems to be segmented into a below stairs servants quarters, and it takes them a good forty minutes to find a way out into the main area of the castle. Despite the weight and annoyance, Jack still has his damn flagon over one shoulder in case Daniel has to tap dance his way through explaining their presence somewhere they don’t belong.
It turns out Jack needn’t have worried. When they inevitably come face to face with various guards, more elegantly dressed slaves, or the occasional gold lamé cross-dresser, none of them give Jack or Daniel a second glance. They just press against the wall and keep their eyes glued to the floor as they pass. Either these guys aren’t used to being infiltrated-and the soldier’s armor and general clunking around tells Jack they probably aren’t big on subterfuge-or they are just far too used to overlooking their lowly slaves. Just like back on Abydos. Jack is perfectly happy to use that against them.
It takes them another hour of eavesdropping on conversations and wandering to finally discover the giant jail cell down in the lowest part of the castle. Only one guard stands watch over the cell, but it’s still one guard too many.
Jack’s ruminating on their best approach when without a word, Daniel grabs the flagon from Jack’s hands. He darts out into the corridor before Jack can stop him. Jack swears under his breath.
Daniel walks straight up to the guard and offers up the flagon with both hands, his head bowed.
The guard looks at him with a mix of obvious interest and suspicion, asking Daniel a question.
Daniel lifts his offering again, saying something back to him.
Jack’s reaching for his weapon when the guard finally takes the flagon and disappears around the corner with it. He waits for the guard to return, but Daniel just waves animatedly for Jack to come out of hiding.
“What was that?” Jack demands as he joins Daniel in front of the cell.
“Obviously there is a big party going on somewhere,” Daniel says. “I figured he might be annoyed not to be included.”
Jack shakes his head. Daniel logic. There is nothing quite like it anywhere else in the universe.
“Kawalsky?” Jack calls as loud as he dares, his eyes skimming the crowd of men behind the bars for a familiar face.
“Colonel!” he says, shoving forward through the crowd.
Jack looks Kawalsky over, glad to see that he’s in one piece.
“How did you get here, sir?” Kawalsky asks.
“Long story,” Jack says, his eyes sweeping the cell. “Is Skaara with you?”
Kawalsky winces. “They took him, about two hours ago. Something about a choosing?”
Damn. Jack does not like the sound of that. “What about Captain Carter?”
“Carter?” Kawalsky echoes. “Did she get taken too?”
Jack feels his stomach drop. “She’s not with you?”
Kawalsky shakes his head. “Haven’t seen her, sir.”
Daniel’s eyes dart across the crowd of men behind Kawalsky. “Maybe they are keeping the women separate? In another cell?”
Jack shares a dark look with Kawalsky, neither of them pleased by what that might imply. Not to mention that despite their extensive wandering, Jack hasn’t seen evidence of another cell down here, meaning Sam could be anywhere.
Jack tugs experimentally at the bars. They don’t give even a millimeter. Kawalsky points across the hall. “I’m pretty sure those are the controls they use to open the door.”
Jack and Daniel stare at the panel on the wall. It looks completely out of place in the face of the stone architecture and rusty bars. Jack can’t even hazard a guess what the strange symbols could mean. He looks at Daniel.
“I could try,” Daniel says. To his credit, he doesn’t just start poking away at the keys.
“And if you’re wrong?” Being able to read an alien language is one thing, understanding alien technology another all together. They can’t afford to trip any alarms until they’ve tracked down Sam. He is not leaving here without her.
Crossing back to the cell, Jack slips Kawalsky his handgun and radio, and for good measure, a block of C4 and a detonator. Worst case, Kawalsky can bust himself out of here.
“Okay,” Jack says. “We’re going to track down Carter and Skaara, figure out the best way to get the hell out of here, and then come back for you.”
Kawalsky nods, slipping the equipment into his jacket pocket. “Yes, sir.”
“We’ll be back,” Jack repeats, wanting Kawalsky to know there is no way in hell he’s leaving him in here.
Kawalsky nods. “I know you will, sir.”
* * *
Jack and Daniel spend another fruitless two hours searching the lower floors. Luckily they prove to be lightly populated. Then again, they are also completely empty of female prisoners or convenient signs reading, “You are here”, with a nice map of the entire castle.
It’s on the third floor that they nearly trip over a procession of guards flanking an imperious looking couple, with a third slighter figure following behind. A familiar figure despite the arrogant curl of his lips and the fancy robes.
Jack can’t really say what makes him do it.
“Skaara,” Jack says, stepping out in to the hall.
The boy turns and for one moment Jack has the stupid thought that everything is going to be okay. Then Skaara’s hand lifts, his eyes flashing, a burst of light erupting from his palm. It lifts Jack off his feet, slamming him back against a pillar. He crumples to the floor, pain radiating the entire length of his body.
He thinks he can hear Daniel yell something, but then they are both lying on the ground, the guards having tackled them to the floor.
Above them, Skaara waves one hand with careless grace, ordering something Jack doesn’t need translated to understand. All Jack can see is the hem of Skaara’s gold robe as he disappears around a corner.
One of the guards belts something that sounds like ‘brie’, the sound of weapons arming echoing in the hall.
Jack squeezes his eyes shut, cursing himself for his moment of utter stupidity, but the expected shot never comes. He opens his eyes to find one of the alien soldiers leaning down over him. From Jack’s position, the guy looks huge, with dark skin and a brilliant gold tattoo on his forehead.
The big guy’s fingers pull out Jack’s dog tags, his thumb rubbing across his name and serial number. Like maybe he’s seen them before.
Jack tries to read something in the guard’s expression, but he just drops the tags with a dismissive flick of his wrist, saying something to his underlings.
Jack and Daniel are dragged back to their feet, their hands roughly bound in front of them with metal manacles of a sort. “What he’d say?”
“He’s asked them to remove us to a…chamber of some sort,” Daniel says, still sounding out of breath.
Jack doesn’t know if that hesitation is born of an uncertain translation or if Daniel is just hiding something. He doesn’t get a chance to ask as they are shoved down the hall and into a large room.
There are weapons hanging from the walls, some staff weapons, others smaller scaled wooden replicas. Now Jack gets it. They are going to be interrogated before they are killed. A long table runs the length of the room on one side and Daniel and Jack are shoved down into chairs in front of it. The Big Guy is standing over their confiscated weapons and equipment laid out on the table. He pokes at the radios, the guns.
“How did you come to be on this planet?” he asks in perfect, clear English.
Daniel’s mouth pops open, and Jack jumps in before he can get a word in. “We took a 747 out of O’Hare. You?”
The guy doesn’t miss a beat. “Why are you here?”
“Vacation,” Jack shoots back, leaning back in his chair as if completely relaxed. “We hear the weather around here is real nice this time of year.”
Their interrogator seems neither surprised nor particularly annoyed by Jack’s nonsensical answers. The guy takes laconic to a whole other level. He stares hard at Jack for a long moment before his lips twitch just the slightest bit as if to tell Jack he is completely transparent.
Big Guy picks up a M16. “These weapons. I have not seen their like before.”
“I’d be happy to demonstrate how they work,” Jack offers. “Just release my hands.”
His lips curve in something that in no way resembles a smile. “That will not be necessary.”
Walking across the room, Big Guy lifts Jack’s tags once more, his thumb rubbing across the raised words. “You came to this planet to take back the ones like you,” he surmises. He pulls on the tags, the chain digging in to the back of Jack’s neck and forcing him to lean forward. “Did you not?”
Jack stares stubbornly back, his jaw tightening. He gets the strange feeling that Big Guy wants something from him, like he’s looking for something specific in his reaction and Jack just can’t hold in the question, even if it means showing his cards. “There was a woman. Like us.”
There’s a flash of recognition in the guard’s face.
“Where is she?” Jack asks.
Big Guy abruptly releases the tags, Jack rocking back into his chair and almost losing his balance.
“Jaffa,” he calls, barking something at his men.
They are dragged back up out of their chairs.
“Where is she?” Jack demands again, struggling against the hands on him.
The Big Guy doesn’t look back at him, still staring down at the weapons on the table.
Daniel leans close to Jack as they are dragged out into the hall. “They’re taking us to the holding cell.”
Great, talk about back to square one. But it’s still better than execution.
Jack keeps his eyes open for any opportunity to break free of their escort as they make their way down the now familiar route, but between being bound and severely outnumbered, Jack is pretty sure they can’t count on being underestimated anymore.
The big one…something tells Jack he’s different.
The Big Guy reappears by the time they reach the cell. He steps up to Jack to remove his restraints himself, which seems a bit below his pay grade. It’s not until he shoves Jack roughly through the door that Jack realizes he’s slipped something into his hand. Jack whips his head around to look at the guard through the bars closing between them. The guard holds his gaze a beat before his eyes slide away. Jack thinks he sees an apology in the gesture. Guilt.
Jack feels the hard edges of the dog tags against his palm, but absolutely refuses to believe what it might mean.
“Jack?” Daniel asks from next to him.
Taking a breath, Jack forces himself to open his hand, to look down at the metal plates resting on his palm.
Sergeant Jessica Hoyt.
The relief almost floors him, a sick swoop in his stomach only made worse by the knowledge that even if Sam is still okay somewhere, another woman, a fellow airman, is not.
“They’re not hers,” Jack breathes.
“Whose?” Daniel asks, looking down at his hand with interest. “Captain Carter’s?”
Jack clears his throat, trying to drag it all back inside, looking up just in time to see Kawlasky moving towards them through the crowd.
“Welcome back, sir,” he says.
“Told ya we’d be back,” Jack forces himself to joke, looking away from Daniel’s far too knowing gaze.
He slips the dog tags into his pocket.
:: next::