The Phantom Device (Cam/Vala, SG-1, Part 2)
Title: The Phantom Device
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Generally up to AoT or Continuum
Pairings: Cam/Vala, Sam/Jack, Daniel/Sha're
Genre: General....episodic stuff, with a mild side of ship.
Summary: When SG-1 travels to a remote planet to negotiate a deal for the planet's specific technological wonder, the Phantom Device, which allows its user to experience anything they desire, they soon find themselves caught in the middle of a power struggle.
Disclaimer: Naturally, I don't actually own anything. At all. It's really quite sad.
AN: Heads up, this part is more overtly shippy than the previous one.
The Phantom Device
Cameron frowned as he made his way through the cluttered room. There were more people gathered in the stone building than he would have expected by Cassian's speech. Too many people, in fact. The atmosphere was oppressive and cramped. He half expected to see smoke and campfires. It was no wonder they weren't ready to 'strike' yet, they were more like refugees than rebels.
Cassian made no comment as he wove through the building, heading toward whatever it was he felt Cameron needed to see. Cam would have felt better about it if the first thing he'd 'seen' was his equipment. It was no surprise that the man had made no mention of those just yet. Cam would get to those after he figured out whatever it was that the man felt so important.
Eventually, they came to a low-ceiling-ed tunnel. On the other side lay a room devoid of people, but only a glance told Cam what its purpose was-and presumably why Cassian brought him here at all. Photographs of various sizes littered the walls, nearly so many as to leave no portion of stone unpapered. Dozens of trinkets and keepsakes lay scattered across the tables within the room, which were its only furnishings.
Clearly, the room existed to honor those slain by the use of the machine. Judging by the number of individuals, he assumed they applied to those both directly caused and indirectly.
Cassian turned, and gestured toward the wall. “You see? There are the people the Council trampled over without a second thought, in their mad conquest for that machine gave them. All of these are faces without names, or names without faces to them. People killed in 'fine-tuning' its mechanisms. The deaths didn't end there, delegate.”
“Mitchell.”
“They didn't stop there, Mitchell. They didn't settle for the inherent control and surveillance the device provided. They couldn't even keep to the end they insisted justified the means. They purposefully slaughtered innocent citizens.”
“Cassian.”
The man frowned. Clearly, the visual element was meant to make what he said hit harder. Cam didn't need visual aid to envision countless hundreds of deaths. He'd seen such deaths. Cassian shook his head slightly, and gestured for Cam to follow him once more. “There's more you should see.”
True to form, he began walking toward the curtained doorway on the far side of the room before Cam could reply. It really was a position Jackson was best meant for, not himself. The door led to another room, longer than the previous. Dozens of citizens sat packed together in the room. It was far more quiet than the other room Cam passed through before. Most of the people seemed to simply sit in near-catatonic states, staring blankly into space. Others seemed to toy with simplistic devices or shift restlessly between lying and sitting.
“You must see these before you decide whose side to take, Mitchell.” Cassian turned toward him once more, expression grave. “If your people manage to take possession of this device, this is what you will see.”
Cam frowned, wrenching his vision from the people to Cassian. “What is this?”
“I told you. Originally, the device made the user believe what they experienced was real, and that most who were extracted from the device did not survive reintegration with reality.”
“Right. You yourself admitted that's been worked out now.”
“Around, not out. And that is achieved by implanting the counter suggestion that the reality the user experiences is unreality. The device, by its very nature, must implant the suggestion that the reality you bring with you does not exist, or the simulation would collapse. It is not a computer projection, it is a mental creation.”
“So, what you're telling me is sometimes the safeties don't work?” And his team had walked into that without knowing it?
“No. The safety suggestion never fails. It is more likely that the simulation will collapse from the safety suggestion than you lose your grip on reality. Provided, of course, the safeties remain on.” Cassian frowned. “Even should they remain in place, there is a point during the disengage process that both suggestions compete for control at equal strength. For three nanoseconds, nothing is real. Most don't even realize the moment happens.”
“Most.”
“There is the exception.” There was always the exception. “One in five thousand Xyndonians are incompatible with the process. When they are forced to accept no possible realities, even for a moment, their mind disengages. They lose everything. Permanently. The conflict never ends. Worse, Mitchell, they can never regain a reality. Familiarity, simple skills, languages they may be able to retain, but nothing more.” Cassian crossed his arms. “Perhaps the Tau'ri will have different numbers affected, but they will be affected. Our minds are not so dissimilar that they would not.”
And there was the silver bullet Cam was looking for. The one dark secret that the IOA and the Pentagon wouldn't be able to disregard simply out of stubbornness. It felt as crappy as he'd expected it to.
He sighed, and nodded. “I take it there's no way to know who those will be.”
“Not until it is too late.” Cassian shook his head. “Of course, it is never spoken of. No one mentions when it claims another victim. It's 'benefits' are too overwhelming to accept that it is too flawed to continue to blithely operate. Even those that know of the risk only concern themselves with the fact that they are not one of the unfortunate ones yet.”
He really liked to lay on the melodrama.
A slim hand snatched Cam's arm. “Friend?” The small, red-haired woman looked so thin and frail, Cameron hesitated to shrug out of her grip for fear of hurting her. Her blue eyes held the muffled remains of a bright sparkle.
“This is Serache. Before it was her turn to test the device, she was one of the lead scientists behind its creation.” Cassian narrowed his eyes. “When she woke as one of the Emptied, they swept her away, and kept her locked in a small room so that they could sweep the entire matter under the table and forget it ever happened. They did with most of the Emptied.” Cassian waved a hand across the room. “We liberated them and brought them here to be cared for only a month ago.”
The conditions didn't look much better than they must have been wherever they'd been kept. Cam placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, and guided her back to a mostly empty bed, only half listening to the man's tirade. “Hey. Ser...ache?”
“Serache.” The woman nodded. “My name is Serache. Friend?”
“S'good to meet you, Serache.” He offered the scientist a small smile. “If we're going to be friends, you can call me Cam.”
She smiled. “Cam. You are...good friend.”
It was more than disconcerting to look into Serache's eyes. A woman of such standing and intelligence-for, no matter its eventual use, the genius that went into the creation of the device must have been immense-and see emptiness. Nothing but a desperate desire for acceptance and approval. Could this be Sam? She'd passed the test last time, but he had said 'yet'. Could repeated uses increase the chance?
Even if it was never Sam, there were many other brilliant minds that would be exposed to the device, both associated and eventually unassociated with the gate. Minds that Earth and the Stargate Program would be deeply grieved to lose.
He provided her another warm smile, and straightened once more, facing the man. “Even if all of this overruled SG-1's orders, I can't do anything to help you on my own. I need my team. Let me go and speak with them.”
“You cannot go now.”
“Why not?”
“You will need an escort to find you back. It is too dangerous for us to go wandering now. They would find us.”
Cam narrowed his eyes. “Define 'now'.”
---
Daniel gave an empathic wince as the guard slumped to the floor, and Vala brushed her hands in satisfaction. “What part of 'don't hurt them more than necessary did you misunderstand, Vala?”
She waved a hand as she stepped over the unconscious form of the guard. “He'll be fine, Daniel. Maybe the nasty bruise will make him think twice next time.”
Daniel grimaced as he followed after her. “You smashed his face into the wall. A 'nasty bruise' might be the least of his troubles.”
“He had his chance to help us willingly. I don't see you going back to check on him for all of your fussing, Daniel.”
They didn't have time to go back and check on it. Much as he wanted to believe they were keeping SG-1 under lock-down in their own misguided attempt to protect them, he suspected there was a good number of selfish motivations involved. Even if they didn't, if these 'unfavorable forces' were stronger than the Councilor was letting on-or stronger than she believed, they couldn't afford to sit back and entrust Mitchell's welfare in someone else's efforts. Noble as he was sure they would be.
Vala didn't wait around for his answer, however, and it was probably good she didn't. They needed to get across the compound and meet up with the others before someone managed to figure out they'd gotten away. Experience said, no matter how slowly the negotiations went on the planet, they didn't have very long.
Fortunately, it wasn't too difficult to get through the complex without further incident. After the few guards around their rooms, the rest of the security seemed thinned-presumably due to genuine search efforts for Mitchell.
They made it to the city's hotel as sun set. Sam and Teal'c were already there when they arrived, reading magazines in the lounge. Ideally, they might have rented a room, but they had no cash on them-Daniel glanced at Vala, as she cozied up next to one of the citizens sitting nearby-they needed aliases once the Council realized they were gone. If it came to that.
“Where will we be looking first?” He frowned, sitting across from Sam. “I have a working knowledge of their culture and politics, but their city map wasn't involved in that. Let alone wherever their rebels might hole up.”
“We're going to have to ask around. It's possible, now that we're out, the Council will leave us alone as long as we stay out of their way.”
“A backup plan wouldn't hurt.”
“We could shoot anyone who comes looking?” Vala sat down next to him, her voice serious, despite the wide smile she wore.
“A backup plan that won't start a war.”
She shrugged, and Sam offered a small smile. “We'll keep our heads down, and try to blend in. Hopefully we won't be looking long enough for it to matter.”
“So.” Vala spoke up again. “We just have to figure out where these unsavory types might be staying, and how they've got Mitchell trussed up somewhere.”
He glanced over at her. “More importantly, why.”
“Ransom? Quit negotiating or the pretty boy gets it?”
He shook his head. “I don't think so. They haven't said anything yet. At least not since we last saw the Councilor, and if they were going to, I'd expect they would have by then.”
Sam frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, well, they have no reason to delay. Especially not now that they have to know the Council is looking for them. If they were going to make demands like that, they would have already.”
“Maybe they just didn't say?” Vala arched an eyebrow. “In case you've forgotten, she wasn't being very helpful.”
“No. If there'd been any news, she would have reacted differently than she did, even if she did choose to keep it from us. Which...I'm not convinced she would.”
Sam frowned. “You're saying they didn't take Cam to stop the negotiations?”
“Oh, I didn't say that.”
“Daniel...” Any trace of humor was gone from Vala's expression. “If they don't want to ransom him to stop the negotiations...”
The crackle of radio cut through the air before he could speak. “You guys still here?”
Daniel blinked, and Sam and Vala straightened, concern and surprise etched into their features. Teal'c also leaned forward slightly. He frowned, and reached for his radio. “..Mitchell?”
Vala snatched up her radio. “Where are you?”
“Good to hear your voice again, too, Vala.” There was a pause, during which Vala rolled her eyes. “Tell me you're not still in negotiations.”
Daniel sighed. “Those would be what were called off when it was discovered you were missing.”
“So they talk about their own little rebellion force?”
He closed his eyes a moment. “Rebellion force?”
“Yeah. Figured. Where are you? We need to talk.”
--
Yeah, this was not something he'd signed up for. Getting misted again, and then dropped off in the middle of an unfamiliar town with a note on how they might be contacted was not how he'd planned on getting out. Generally speaking, he preferred to remain conscious as much as possible on missions. Fortunately, they'd been thoughtful enough to return his equipment. It was still difficult to say how long the whole side-trip took him. According to his returned watch, it might have been six hours. Unfortunately, it might have been thirty for all the contact he'd had with the outside world.
He'd forgotten to ask exactly how long he'd been gone, but he was sure that'd come up in the discussion at some point. More immediately important was finding his way around the city to their hotel. Even with the kind directions of one of the citizens he'd come across, it was still tricky. The place was hectic. Of course, even when he did find his way to the hotel, there would be more important things to talk about than how much time they had left before they needed to check back in with the SGC.
If negotiations were suspended, then he still had time to impart at least the knowledge of the dangers of the device. Aiding in a coup was messy. Part of him wanted to gear up and help Cassian and his people, but an equal part knew the disaster that came from such decisions. It was not one to be made by himself alone. Hell, it probably wasn't even one to be made by SG-1. Not unless they had to.
But the phantom device. That he was going to end Earth's association with. Unless Sam could give him a damn good guarantee that their scientists wouldn't end up like Serache. Even then, it would be a close call. He would not see someone he cared about emptied out by a device he'd never even liked.
Fortunately, it turned out he wasn't as far away from the hotel as he'd first thought he was. Even with the confusion of the streets and nightfall, he made decent time, and SG-1 didn't appear to have been waiting too long by the time he arrived in the lobby.
Sam stood up when he walked over to their table, and enveloped him in a brief hug. Jackson gave a relieved smile, and Teal'c nodded. Vala, who had been leaning over the back edge of the hotel's couch, straightened and smacked his arm.
“You had Daniel worried sick! He even stumbled over his words in the middle of a heated debate with the Councilor because he was so distracted.”
“It had nothing to do with that!”
Cam nodded and smiled. “I'm glad to know you care, Jackson.” He spun around the table formation, and sat in the available seat, as Vala claimed the arm of the couch next to Jackson.
In the ensuing silence, Sam spoke first. “You said something about a rebellion?”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward in his seat. “I'm sure Teal'c told you I went investigating someone suspicious I saw in the eating hall?” Teal'c nodded. “Yeah, well...I found him. He, his friends, and some kind of tranquilizer spray. The next thing I knew, I was in a cell that looked like it belonged in the back of some small town Sheriff's office.”
For a moment, Vala made as if to speak, but Jackson waved her off.
“The guy I was chasing came up to the cell after I woke up, and gave a spiel about the corrupt beginnings of the phantom device, and all of its drawbacks. Apparently, the Council sent a good chunk of its citizens to their deaths in developing it. They've got themselves a memorial, and some very motivated fighters. Our arrival and negotiations for the device was the last straw. They're planning what sounds to be a very bloody coup. Soon.”
Jackson frowned. “We have to do something. Warn the Council.”
“Do we? I'm not so sure the 'Council' are the good guys anymore.”
“Mitchell, this rebellion kidnapped you.” Jackson gestured over his shoulder. “The Council is spending its resources looking for you. You can't possibly be saying you're okay with their deaths.”
“Right now, that's not the most important part. Cassian didn't tell me everything, given that I wasn't going along with his plan, but there is something the Pentagon needs to know before we go any further in these negotiations. I'm not so sure we want this device.”
Sam frowned. “Why?”
“The device isn't safe. Aside from some particularly nasty addictive properties, part of the process runs the risk of permanent, crippling brain damage.”
Vala's eyes widened. “But we used it already!”
“It doesn't happen to everyone, not every time. But...its not a risk we can take with our people. We can't blithely throw away brilliant scientific minds when there are better ways to get the information the device can provide.”
“Mitchell,” Jackson held up a hand. “I'm not disagreeing here, but that's not exactly your call.”
He grit his teeth. “Jackson. You didn't see the room they'd packed full of people this happened to. According to Cassian, it's an unavoidable part of the process.”
“It's possible if I could get a look at it, we could find a work-around.”
“Are you sure about that, Sam? You sure you'll be able to figure it out before the Pentagon or the IOA decide the odds are acceptable for the benefit they'll get out of it?”
“Why are you so sure Cassian and his men are telling you the truth, Mitchell?” Jackson narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn't have expected you to believe kidnappers intent on killing people over...anything.”
“He was...over-dramatic, Jackson, but he wasn't a liar. I know what I saw, and these negotiations-for the device at the least-need to be called off before we make a mistake we won't be able to take back.”
Sam held up a hand. “The best thing we can do is investigate this ourselves. The only way we can do that is to get back into the Council complex, and let me get a look at the device from the other side of the control panel.”
Cam suspected, despite her enthusiasm at the concept of the device and its possible uses, she'd always wanted to give that portion of the device a test drive, rather than the pods. “Then lets move out. We'll return to the Council and demand a look under the hood.”
“Failing that...” Vala gave a knowing smile, and glanced at Jackson. “We'll distract them while Sam looks.”
“Yeah...about that.” Jackson sat back in the couch, grimacing. “Councilor Solyin probably isn't going to be very happy when we get back.”
---
She wasn't.
In fact, they narrowly avoided being thrown in detainment, or calling off the entire negotiations. Unsurprisingly, her mood didn't really improve when she heard he'd been in contact with the rebels during the whole six hours he'd been missing.
Jackson managed to keep their freedom within the complex, but the Councilor made quite clear that due to the 'delicate situation' in the city at large, if they left the complex again without escort, the negotiations would be at an end.
A lesser man than Cam would have simply walked out of the building and ended it there. He knew better than to purposefully sabotage the mission. While that didn't mean he still wasn't tempted to, he kept to himself, instead. Well. Kept to himself and playing cards with Vala. There wasn't much else to do while Sam inspected the device and the Councilor kept the negotiations for the next morning. Vala had long since gotten bored of hanging off of Teal'c's arm in a futile attempt to arm wrestle the Jaffa. Jackson poured over the available histories in the Council library, searching for references to what actually went down with the device's development-as, again, unsurprisingly the Councilor had been reticent about giving out classified records.
Especially given that they reflected so badly on the Council.
He could see in Jackson's eyes that the man suspected he was quick to believe Cassian's stories about the device only because he had a prejudice against it coming into the situation. Maybe he was, somewhat...but it was true. Cassian couldn't fake Serache. Well, not feasibly. And is gut told him to believe Cassian's story.
Of course, his gut also told him Vala had nothing in her hand, and that was clearly wrong.
“You're not even trying, Mitchell.” Vala pouted. “I realize you've got all those lovely ideas in your head about letting me get whatever I want, but it's no fun if you don't at least pretend to put up a fight.”
He squinted. “That was a lucky hand. And I only let ladies win.”
“Mm. Excuses, excuses.” She waved a hand. “It's cute that you're trying to put into practice what I told you, but really, it's obvious when you do it right after I tell you it.”
“What-” He waved a hand and shook his head, before shuffling the deck. “Never mind. I don't want to know.”
Whatever Vala might have said was cut off when Councilor Solyin burst into the room with an escort of guards. Across the room, Cam dimly noted that Teal'c stood even before he did, reaching for his sidearm.
The Councilor gave no indication that she even noticed their reactions. “Where are the other delegates.”
Cam narrowed his eyes. “Somewhere around the complex.”
“Unacceptable. You, and the rest of the delegates must be moved somewhere secure.”
“Excuse me?”
“It is unsafe here. You will come with me to a place that is.”
So that was how she liked to be when she didn't feel like being polite. She brought men with guns. Entirely unsurprising, given the way she acted when she was being polite. The guards were already fanning around the room, corralling them forward-offering only the option to fight or to leave the room. The Councilor, meanwhile had turned and began leaving the room.
Vala glanced over her shoulder warily at one of the guards gesturing her forward. “What's going on?”
The Councilor paused, as if considering whether to answer. “The complex is under attack.”
--
It was slow going, filing through each of the Council's historical records, searching for obscure, subtle references to what Cam had spoken of. He wouldn't have minded easily accessible clearly worded details of the accounts, as well, but he would have trusted those less, given the circumstances. Not that he particularly trusted this 'Cassian's version of events, either.
More often than not, a man like Cassian's viewpoint was twisted.
He hadn't managed to find much of anything by the time a group of armed men burst into the library.
He blinked up at the doorway from his book. “Well...that's not good...”
The man who appeared to be in charge of the small group turned his attention to him. “Doctor Jackson? Tau'ri delegate?”
He wasn't entirely certain he wanted to identify himself to the man, but he didn't have very much choice in the matter. He wasn't exactly wearing the local colors. “...Yes?”
“You will come with us.”
---
Cam frowned, as he saw Sam approaching, with one of her acutely irritated expressions. The irritation likely had to do with the guard who was walking behind her with a slight limp, but Cam was sure being interrupted and herded down hallways contributed.
He nodded in greeting. “You okay?”
“Yeah...” She frowned as she fell in step with him, walking down the hall. “You were right. I couldn't get a good look at it, but from what I could tell with what little I got to see...it's entirely possible what you described could happen.”
“And working around it?”
She shook her head. “I'd need a better look.”
Councilor Solyin turned around, as Jackson arrived, looking somewhat rumpled. “You will remain in the safe-room before us until the attack has been overcome. These forces are unreasonable and dangerous, they will not differentiate between their goal, and delegates who get in their way.”
“Councilor, that's really unnecessary-”
The woman cut into Jackson's speech. “This is not open to negotiations. We will not allow this to jeopardize our planets' relations. When it is safe, the doors will be opened, and negotiations will be resumed.”
“Look, we could help you.” Daniel quirked a small smile. “We're actually...kind of experienced with this sort of thing.”
“Unacceptable. The risk would be too great.”
“Would that be the risk to our lives, or the risk that we'll help them, instead of you?” Cameron crossed his arms, as Jackson glanced toward him. The Councilor gave no response, she simply gestured toward the doorway, and the guards began closing in once more, herding them forward.
Vala edged closer toward the center where he and Sam stood, as Teal'c tenses-almost imperceptibly. Jackson lifted his hands, and began speaking quickly, attempting to defuse the situation. If Cam knew these people, as he was certain Jackson also did, there was only one way to 'defuse' the situation.
He walked into the room with a slim nod. They couldn't afford to outright fight the Council now. It was best to just wait. Or better, simply go in and break out of the room once the bulk of the guards left to deal with the coup.
The others followed after him moments later, and the door sealed behind him. The room was blank, bright, and unnervingly white. The Council could do with a few tapestries hanging up a few places. Maybe pictures. Hell, a flower vase or two would be an improvement.
Jackson turned back toward him, digging his hands into his pocket. “So. Now what?”
As if someone where waiting for him to speak, the ceiling opened into long slots, and began pouring in a mist that was getting to be altogether far too familiar today.
Vala sighed. “Oh, you just had to say that, Daniel? Didn't you?”
Through the haze, Cam was sure he spotted Jackson manage an ugly look in Vala's direction.
---
Sam frowned, pressing a hand to her head, and willing away the dizziness there. In the heat and excitement of the day, she must have forgotten to drink enough fluids. It wasn't the first time she'd done it, but she could just imagine now how her father would fret if he knew. He wasn't the only one who would. Sam glanced down despite herself--there was barely anything there at all, visually, but she could already feel the changes. Even if she couldn't have, Janet was tracking every step of the process, almost every morning.
Sam gave a soft, private laugh. 'Process'. Daniel would have colorful things to say about that, if he could hear her thoughts. He would probably be right to. She needed to come up with a better term to use...but she still had a good amount of time to decide which one to use, as Janet made certain she knew every time they met. But it was alright, some days it was all too overwhelming for her, and...it helped to have someone nearby occasionally who seemed more caught up in all of it than she was.
Sam made her way down the hallway, toward the rustling sounds coming from the kitchen. A curious, grizzled face peered over the refrigerator door as she shuffled into the room. "We're out of dinners again. Do you think Jacob will be up for another...family dinner?"
She blinked at the familiar face for a long few moments, belatedly noting the weight on her finger. His quizzical expression tightened in suspicion. "...What?"
"...Jack?" The name cut through her daze, and she shook her head quickly. Of course it was Jack. Sometimes, it was hard to believe, even now, years after the fact, that things really turned out like they had. But this was real. She summoned a small smile. "Another impromptu dinner? I'll call Dad and tell him to set more plates. Last time I spoke to him, he wanted to talk to you about something."
"Ah." Jack grimaced briefly, and ducked back into the refrigerator for a moment, apparently determining the trip would be best preceded by alcohol.
"Is there something wrong?"
"Oh, no..." Jack twisted and yanked the cap free, and wandered out from behind the refrigerator. "It's just...when Selmac goes into 'Grandpa' mode..."
Sam snorted, and turned to make her way to the phone. "I'm sure you'll survive, Jack."
Jack gave a sour frown, and drank a swig from his chosen bottle, but gave no response. Maybe she'd talk to her father and Selmac about easing up on Jack a bit. She had a suspicion that Selmac had never really dealt with the situation before. That...seemed right. Everything about him felt alien to the situation. It was no wonder Jack felt uncomfortable with him. It wasn't fair not to talk to him about it rather than kick him out, though.
She'd barely even finished dialing before her father picked up. Her voice caught in her throat as his voice echoed across the phone line. She'd only seen him a week ago...but...it felt like so long since she'd heard his voice. "Sam?"
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, and summoned another smile. "...Dad?"
---
Daniel glanced up from the papers he was pouring over when the door opened. For once, the papers were his own. He was lecturing on alien culture tomorrow, and he had no one else who could understand his noting system except for Jonas Quinn, who was currently off world. When he registered the figure that entered the room, he scooted his glasses up with one hand, and grinned. "Sha're?"
She gave a small, uncertain smile, and fiddled with her ponytail. She never did much like Earth's styles, though Sam did help her adapt to Cheyenne Mountain whenever they needed to spend an extended amount of time on Earth for research purposes, rather than at home in Abydos. Sam had even taken her out to stores and let her choose her own outfits from time-to-time. Sha're seemed to enjoy the trip itself more than the shopping or the clothing she'd chosen. Still, the girls got along, and that was good. It'd been dodgy at first.
"Danyel? Will we go home today?"
He blinked, and glanced down at his watch for a moment, then at the calendar on the desk. Wow, had it really been a week on Earth? Already?
Daniel offered a warm smile, and reached an arm out for her to come closer. "You're right, we are. We've just got to wait until Doctor Quinn returns."
Sha're's smile strengthened and brightened, sitting down on his lap, and resting her head on his shoulder. "Samantha promised another shop-ping trip next time."
"Are you looking forward to it?"
She nodded, curling her arms around his neck. "She said we get necklaces, and something for O'Neill." She lifted her head, and her smile held that odd blend of mischief and curiosity unique to her. "Something with red."
"Well...that should be...interesting for him." Daniel frowned softly, directing a sideways glance toward his wife. It was hard to believe he was here now, with Sha're, exploring the galaxy. If he'd been told this would be his future the day he'd met Catherine Langford in the rain outside his failed lecture, he doubted he could even have comprehended this, let alone accepted it as a possibility.
Sha're smiled, continuing on, divulging the plans she and Sam had made for their next trip to Earth. "O'Neill wishes Skaara accompany us next time."
"Well, we'll have to bring him with, then. I'm sure Janet wouldn't mind a hand with his nephew and Cassie.
Sha're's grin was brilliant, and beautiful enough to make his heart ache. It was all...it was too good to be true. He was sure.
---
The sound of cracking wood split the relative silence of the morning, and the training staff shattered from the force of its impact with its mirror. Rya'c winced at the blow, and shoved the staff off of him with great effort. He was young still, but he was growing. Already he was a worthy warrior, and with time, he would be a great warrior. Of that, Teal'c was certain. Bra'tac would see Rya'c no less, and he would not stand on the sidelines and simply observe his son's development, either.
The purpose of village warriors were simple compared to their duties in past generations, but they remained a solemn duty, and an honor to partake in. To protect the village from wild animals and hunt game appropriate for the appetites of those who depended on the Chulak warriors, and to be on the scene first in case of disasters was a duty which he would not have traded for any other which he knew of.
Sweat beaded along his forehead from the morning workout, as the broke for the mid-day meal Drey'auc prepared. Teal'c snatched up a rag from the nearby fence, and mopped his brow as Rya'c collapsed in the dirt in an over-exaggerated display of fatigue. Such things were expected of his youth. He glanced toward his son only when he had sufficiently recovered from the exercise, and spoke a terse command to hurry the youth along to the meal. Rya'c would one day be a great warrior, yes, but he had yet to face true danger, and at times it seemed he dragged his feet because of it. Although Teal'c was confident his son would rise honorably to whatever challenge would one day present itself, at times he would have preferred Rya'c rise to the occasion before it became completely necessary. Bra'tac felt that Rya'c would realize his destiny in his own time, and thought little of a few years' delay. He spoke wisdom, Teal'c knew. Yet, he could not help the occasional moment of impatience. It was a reminder of his own youth.
Still. He would rather Rya'c drag his feet to train than tragedy force him to become the warrior he would one day realize before it was time. The days his thoughts turned to the possibilities--all vivid imagination--were dark indeed.
Today was not such a dark day. Today was a time for celebration, and celebrate they would. Teal'c brushed aside his thoughts, and followed after his son to his home.
---
Cam paced in a slow circle, blinking at the living room. When had it gotten so crowded? Growing up, he remembered the walls stretching on into infinity. Yeah, okay, so that was definitely youthful exaggeration, but the family had grown, and with it, trinkets and things that were probably useless had invaded the once expansive living room. It wasn't bad enough to be cluttered yet. They could walk through it. Then again, it was mostly his things, so he was probably kidding himself.
Cam turned on his heel, and snatched up a dark-haired, tiny body that raced by him. Tyler screeched in surprise, but the sound quickly dissolved into giggles as Cam swung the child up into his arms, and spun around back to his original bearing. Tyler's bright blue eyes sparkled with mirth, and kicked his legs in excitement over suddenly finding himself in the air. It was clear to Cam already which of the children would be inheriting the Mitchell family career. "What'd Momma say about runnin' in the house?"
Tyler's whine was punctuated with laughter--and lost much of the intended effect. "Amy's gonna get all the coo-ookies!"
Cam snorted. "There's more in the oven, Tyler." The charging around after cookies was only endearing until something got smashed. Then there was Momma and hell to pay. As it so happened, Tyler did not need to respond, as Amy chose that moment to barrel into the room herself, clearly intent on scoring herself some cookies. Upon catching sight of the occupants of the room, however, she skidded to a halt, wide-eyed. Cameron could already see the gears turning in those large hazel eyes, as she scrambled for something to excuse her rule-breaking.
Cam shook his head, and tucked Tyler under an arm, and reached over to scoop Amy up with his other hand. Maybe that was why they let the room get crowded. So the children couldn't scatter and escape. That was probably it.
"Why don't we take this to Momma and see what she says?" He looked between the two children. Tyler rested his elbows on the arm supporting him, and stuck his tongue out at his sister. Amy, who was somewhat less of a fan of heights than her brother, kept her arms hooked around his shoulder, and directed a haughty look toward the other. "Who's seen her last?"
Amy turned her attention from her brother, perking up at the opportunity to provide information. "Momma's napping in bed."
"Napping, huh?" He grinned, and swung around, carrying the two children toward the bedroom. If she'd been napping, she would have laid down when the batch of cookies went in, and would be getting up soon. "How about we go wake her up?"
The duo were less enthusiastic about waking her up than they would have been if he'd mentioned the cookies the endeavor would award them.
The hallways were cluttered, but that was primarily because of the boxes of...things his parents had left in the hallways after they'd emptied the dining room to remodel it. It looked like Ferguson had left his jacket behind the last time he'd visited, and someone had tossed it onto one of the boxes to get it out of the way until he came around again. That would be a least two weeks, until the man returned from his latest recon mission. Whether it would stay there the whole two weeks was debatable.
Tyler helpfully reached over and shoved the door open when the reached their goal, and Cam let the two down, so that they could charge onward. Their two voices competed with each other to explain the situation first. Vala blinked over at the two of them, raking fingers through long, tangled dark hair. She offered a brief, tired smile toward him, before turning her attention to the children.
"Cookies are no excuse to get caught running through the house!" Her voice was surprisingly clear and stern for her rumpled appearance, and the two children immediately halted their explanations, apparently taken as off-guard as himself by her lucidity. "If you're going to get caught, it's never worthwhile."
Cam couldn't help a wry grin at the scene, as he wandered into the room. Usually, that statement was quickly followed by an 'and I'll always catch you in this house' sort of message. It seemed just like Vala's sort of parenting. His parents were somewhat skeptical about it, but he found it irresistibly endearing, and she was fully aware of that. Her gaze flickered up to him briefly, as he sat down next to her on the bed, and she screwed her expression into a disapproving frown.
"Oh, don't you smile and think you're off the hook, Cameron. You're just as bad, hiding behind Mom."
He settled into a soft smile, and reached out to run a hand through her hair. A small smile already tugged at the corners of her mouth by the time he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Maybe I like the view."
Amy gave an annoyed huff that she and her brother had apparently been forgotten for a few moments, and Vala gave a tired snort, reaching up to place a knuckle to his chest and nudge him out of her space. "You. Go get the cookies before they burn. Again. Your mother hates it when you burn things in her oven."
As Tyler cheered at the word 'cookies', Cam shoved off of the bed, glancing over his shoulder at Vala once more. She'd turned her attention from admonishment to managing Amy's hair, pinning the unruly dark locks back with silver barrettes. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, catching particles of dust floating along the air, and glimmering in stunning gold against the girls' hair. It was a perfect moment. If he didn't know better, it could have been right out of a movie.
This wasn't a movie. This moment was all his.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Generally up to AoT or Continuum
Pairings: Cam/Vala, Sam/Jack, Daniel/Sha're
Genre: General....episodic stuff, with a mild side of ship.
Summary: When SG-1 travels to a remote planet to negotiate a deal for the planet's specific technological wonder, the Phantom Device, which allows its user to experience anything they desire, they soon find themselves caught in the middle of a power struggle.
Disclaimer: Naturally, I don't actually own anything. At all. It's really quite sad.
AN: Heads up, this part is more overtly shippy than the previous one.
The Phantom Device
Cameron frowned as he made his way through the cluttered room. There were more people gathered in the stone building than he would have expected by Cassian's speech. Too many people, in fact. The atmosphere was oppressive and cramped. He half expected to see smoke and campfires. It was no wonder they weren't ready to 'strike' yet, they were more like refugees than rebels.
Cassian made no comment as he wove through the building, heading toward whatever it was he felt Cameron needed to see. Cam would have felt better about it if the first thing he'd 'seen' was his equipment. It was no surprise that the man had made no mention of those just yet. Cam would get to those after he figured out whatever it was that the man felt so important.
Eventually, they came to a low-ceiling-ed tunnel. On the other side lay a room devoid of people, but only a glance told Cam what its purpose was-and presumably why Cassian brought him here at all. Photographs of various sizes littered the walls, nearly so many as to leave no portion of stone unpapered. Dozens of trinkets and keepsakes lay scattered across the tables within the room, which were its only furnishings.
Clearly, the room existed to honor those slain by the use of the machine. Judging by the number of individuals, he assumed they applied to those both directly caused and indirectly.
Cassian turned, and gestured toward the wall. “You see? There are the people the Council trampled over without a second thought, in their mad conquest for that machine gave them. All of these are faces without names, or names without faces to them. People killed in 'fine-tuning' its mechanisms. The deaths didn't end there, delegate.”
“Mitchell.”
“They didn't stop there, Mitchell. They didn't settle for the inherent control and surveillance the device provided. They couldn't even keep to the end they insisted justified the means. They purposefully slaughtered innocent citizens.”
“Cassian.”
The man frowned. Clearly, the visual element was meant to make what he said hit harder. Cam didn't need visual aid to envision countless hundreds of deaths. He'd seen such deaths. Cassian shook his head slightly, and gestured for Cam to follow him once more. “There's more you should see.”
True to form, he began walking toward the curtained doorway on the far side of the room before Cam could reply. It really was a position Jackson was best meant for, not himself. The door led to another room, longer than the previous. Dozens of citizens sat packed together in the room. It was far more quiet than the other room Cam passed through before. Most of the people seemed to simply sit in near-catatonic states, staring blankly into space. Others seemed to toy with simplistic devices or shift restlessly between lying and sitting.
“You must see these before you decide whose side to take, Mitchell.” Cassian turned toward him once more, expression grave. “If your people manage to take possession of this device, this is what you will see.”
Cam frowned, wrenching his vision from the people to Cassian. “What is this?”
“I told you. Originally, the device made the user believe what they experienced was real, and that most who were extracted from the device did not survive reintegration with reality.”
“Right. You yourself admitted that's been worked out now.”
“Around, not out. And that is achieved by implanting the counter suggestion that the reality the user experiences is unreality. The device, by its very nature, must implant the suggestion that the reality you bring with you does not exist, or the simulation would collapse. It is not a computer projection, it is a mental creation.”
“So, what you're telling me is sometimes the safeties don't work?” And his team had walked into that without knowing it?
“No. The safety suggestion never fails. It is more likely that the simulation will collapse from the safety suggestion than you lose your grip on reality. Provided, of course, the safeties remain on.” Cassian frowned. “Even should they remain in place, there is a point during the disengage process that both suggestions compete for control at equal strength. For three nanoseconds, nothing is real. Most don't even realize the moment happens.”
“Most.”
“There is the exception.” There was always the exception. “One in five thousand Xyndonians are incompatible with the process. When they are forced to accept no possible realities, even for a moment, their mind disengages. They lose everything. Permanently. The conflict never ends. Worse, Mitchell, they can never regain a reality. Familiarity, simple skills, languages they may be able to retain, but nothing more.” Cassian crossed his arms. “Perhaps the Tau'ri will have different numbers affected, but they will be affected. Our minds are not so dissimilar that they would not.”
And there was the silver bullet Cam was looking for. The one dark secret that the IOA and the Pentagon wouldn't be able to disregard simply out of stubbornness. It felt as crappy as he'd expected it to.
He sighed, and nodded. “I take it there's no way to know who those will be.”
“Not until it is too late.” Cassian shook his head. “Of course, it is never spoken of. No one mentions when it claims another victim. It's 'benefits' are too overwhelming to accept that it is too flawed to continue to blithely operate. Even those that know of the risk only concern themselves with the fact that they are not one of the unfortunate ones yet.”
He really liked to lay on the melodrama.
A slim hand snatched Cam's arm. “Friend?” The small, red-haired woman looked so thin and frail, Cameron hesitated to shrug out of her grip for fear of hurting her. Her blue eyes held the muffled remains of a bright sparkle.
“This is Serache. Before it was her turn to test the device, she was one of the lead scientists behind its creation.” Cassian narrowed his eyes. “When she woke as one of the Emptied, they swept her away, and kept her locked in a small room so that they could sweep the entire matter under the table and forget it ever happened. They did with most of the Emptied.” Cassian waved a hand across the room. “We liberated them and brought them here to be cared for only a month ago.”
The conditions didn't look much better than they must have been wherever they'd been kept. Cam placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, and guided her back to a mostly empty bed, only half listening to the man's tirade. “Hey. Ser...ache?”
“Serache.” The woman nodded. “My name is Serache. Friend?”
“S'good to meet you, Serache.” He offered the scientist a small smile. “If we're going to be friends, you can call me Cam.”
She smiled. “Cam. You are...good friend.”
It was more than disconcerting to look into Serache's eyes. A woman of such standing and intelligence-for, no matter its eventual use, the genius that went into the creation of the device must have been immense-and see emptiness. Nothing but a desperate desire for acceptance and approval. Could this be Sam? She'd passed the test last time, but he had said 'yet'. Could repeated uses increase the chance?
Even if it was never Sam, there were many other brilliant minds that would be exposed to the device, both associated and eventually unassociated with the gate. Minds that Earth and the Stargate Program would be deeply grieved to lose.
He provided her another warm smile, and straightened once more, facing the man. “Even if all of this overruled SG-1's orders, I can't do anything to help you on my own. I need my team. Let me go and speak with them.”
“You cannot go now.”
“Why not?”
“You will need an escort to find you back. It is too dangerous for us to go wandering now. They would find us.”
Cam narrowed his eyes. “Define 'now'.”
---
Daniel gave an empathic wince as the guard slumped to the floor, and Vala brushed her hands in satisfaction. “What part of 'don't hurt them more than necessary did you misunderstand, Vala?”
She waved a hand as she stepped over the unconscious form of the guard. “He'll be fine, Daniel. Maybe the nasty bruise will make him think twice next time.”
Daniel grimaced as he followed after her. “You smashed his face into the wall. A 'nasty bruise' might be the least of his troubles.”
“He had his chance to help us willingly. I don't see you going back to check on him for all of your fussing, Daniel.”
They didn't have time to go back and check on it. Much as he wanted to believe they were keeping SG-1 under lock-down in their own misguided attempt to protect them, he suspected there was a good number of selfish motivations involved. Even if they didn't, if these 'unfavorable forces' were stronger than the Councilor was letting on-or stronger than she believed, they couldn't afford to sit back and entrust Mitchell's welfare in someone else's efforts. Noble as he was sure they would be.
Vala didn't wait around for his answer, however, and it was probably good she didn't. They needed to get across the compound and meet up with the others before someone managed to figure out they'd gotten away. Experience said, no matter how slowly the negotiations went on the planet, they didn't have very long.
Fortunately, it wasn't too difficult to get through the complex without further incident. After the few guards around their rooms, the rest of the security seemed thinned-presumably due to genuine search efforts for Mitchell.
They made it to the city's hotel as sun set. Sam and Teal'c were already there when they arrived, reading magazines in the lounge. Ideally, they might have rented a room, but they had no cash on them-Daniel glanced at Vala, as she cozied up next to one of the citizens sitting nearby-they needed aliases once the Council realized they were gone. If it came to that.
“Where will we be looking first?” He frowned, sitting across from Sam. “I have a working knowledge of their culture and politics, but their city map wasn't involved in that. Let alone wherever their rebels might hole up.”
“We're going to have to ask around. It's possible, now that we're out, the Council will leave us alone as long as we stay out of their way.”
“A backup plan wouldn't hurt.”
“We could shoot anyone who comes looking?” Vala sat down next to him, her voice serious, despite the wide smile she wore.
“A backup plan that won't start a war.”
She shrugged, and Sam offered a small smile. “We'll keep our heads down, and try to blend in. Hopefully we won't be looking long enough for it to matter.”
“So.” Vala spoke up again. “We just have to figure out where these unsavory types might be staying, and how they've got Mitchell trussed up somewhere.”
He glanced over at her. “More importantly, why.”
“Ransom? Quit negotiating or the pretty boy gets it?”
He shook his head. “I don't think so. They haven't said anything yet. At least not since we last saw the Councilor, and if they were going to, I'd expect they would have by then.”
Sam frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, well, they have no reason to delay. Especially not now that they have to know the Council is looking for them. If they were going to make demands like that, they would have already.”
“Maybe they just didn't say?” Vala arched an eyebrow. “In case you've forgotten, she wasn't being very helpful.”
“No. If there'd been any news, she would have reacted differently than she did, even if she did choose to keep it from us. Which...I'm not convinced she would.”
Sam frowned. “You're saying they didn't take Cam to stop the negotiations?”
“Oh, I didn't say that.”
“Daniel...” Any trace of humor was gone from Vala's expression. “If they don't want to ransom him to stop the negotiations...”
The crackle of radio cut through the air before he could speak. “You guys still here?”
Daniel blinked, and Sam and Vala straightened, concern and surprise etched into their features. Teal'c also leaned forward slightly. He frowned, and reached for his radio. “..Mitchell?”
Vala snatched up her radio. “Where are you?”
“Good to hear your voice again, too, Vala.” There was a pause, during which Vala rolled her eyes. “Tell me you're not still in negotiations.”
Daniel sighed. “Those would be what were called off when it was discovered you were missing.”
“So they talk about their own little rebellion force?”
He closed his eyes a moment. “Rebellion force?”
“Yeah. Figured. Where are you? We need to talk.”
--
Yeah, this was not something he'd signed up for. Getting misted again, and then dropped off in the middle of an unfamiliar town with a note on how they might be contacted was not how he'd planned on getting out. Generally speaking, he preferred to remain conscious as much as possible on missions. Fortunately, they'd been thoughtful enough to return his equipment. It was still difficult to say how long the whole side-trip took him. According to his returned watch, it might have been six hours. Unfortunately, it might have been thirty for all the contact he'd had with the outside world.
He'd forgotten to ask exactly how long he'd been gone, but he was sure that'd come up in the discussion at some point. More immediately important was finding his way around the city to their hotel. Even with the kind directions of one of the citizens he'd come across, it was still tricky. The place was hectic. Of course, even when he did find his way to the hotel, there would be more important things to talk about than how much time they had left before they needed to check back in with the SGC.
If negotiations were suspended, then he still had time to impart at least the knowledge of the dangers of the device. Aiding in a coup was messy. Part of him wanted to gear up and help Cassian and his people, but an equal part knew the disaster that came from such decisions. It was not one to be made by himself alone. Hell, it probably wasn't even one to be made by SG-1. Not unless they had to.
But the phantom device. That he was going to end Earth's association with. Unless Sam could give him a damn good guarantee that their scientists wouldn't end up like Serache. Even then, it would be a close call. He would not see someone he cared about emptied out by a device he'd never even liked.
Fortunately, it turned out he wasn't as far away from the hotel as he'd first thought he was. Even with the confusion of the streets and nightfall, he made decent time, and SG-1 didn't appear to have been waiting too long by the time he arrived in the lobby.
Sam stood up when he walked over to their table, and enveloped him in a brief hug. Jackson gave a relieved smile, and Teal'c nodded. Vala, who had been leaning over the back edge of the hotel's couch, straightened and smacked his arm.
“You had Daniel worried sick! He even stumbled over his words in the middle of a heated debate with the Councilor because he was so distracted.”
“It had nothing to do with that!”
Cam nodded and smiled. “I'm glad to know you care, Jackson.” He spun around the table formation, and sat in the available seat, as Vala claimed the arm of the couch next to Jackson.
In the ensuing silence, Sam spoke first. “You said something about a rebellion?”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward in his seat. “I'm sure Teal'c told you I went investigating someone suspicious I saw in the eating hall?” Teal'c nodded. “Yeah, well...I found him. He, his friends, and some kind of tranquilizer spray. The next thing I knew, I was in a cell that looked like it belonged in the back of some small town Sheriff's office.”
For a moment, Vala made as if to speak, but Jackson waved her off.
“The guy I was chasing came up to the cell after I woke up, and gave a spiel about the corrupt beginnings of the phantom device, and all of its drawbacks. Apparently, the Council sent a good chunk of its citizens to their deaths in developing it. They've got themselves a memorial, and some very motivated fighters. Our arrival and negotiations for the device was the last straw. They're planning what sounds to be a very bloody coup. Soon.”
Jackson frowned. “We have to do something. Warn the Council.”
“Do we? I'm not so sure the 'Council' are the good guys anymore.”
“Mitchell, this rebellion kidnapped you.” Jackson gestured over his shoulder. “The Council is spending its resources looking for you. You can't possibly be saying you're okay with their deaths.”
“Right now, that's not the most important part. Cassian didn't tell me everything, given that I wasn't going along with his plan, but there is something the Pentagon needs to know before we go any further in these negotiations. I'm not so sure we want this device.”
Sam frowned. “Why?”
“The device isn't safe. Aside from some particularly nasty addictive properties, part of the process runs the risk of permanent, crippling brain damage.”
Vala's eyes widened. “But we used it already!”
“It doesn't happen to everyone, not every time. But...its not a risk we can take with our people. We can't blithely throw away brilliant scientific minds when there are better ways to get the information the device can provide.”
“Mitchell,” Jackson held up a hand. “I'm not disagreeing here, but that's not exactly your call.”
He grit his teeth. “Jackson. You didn't see the room they'd packed full of people this happened to. According to Cassian, it's an unavoidable part of the process.”
“It's possible if I could get a look at it, we could find a work-around.”
“Are you sure about that, Sam? You sure you'll be able to figure it out before the Pentagon or the IOA decide the odds are acceptable for the benefit they'll get out of it?”
“Why are you so sure Cassian and his men are telling you the truth, Mitchell?” Jackson narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn't have expected you to believe kidnappers intent on killing people over...anything.”
“He was...over-dramatic, Jackson, but he wasn't a liar. I know what I saw, and these negotiations-for the device at the least-need to be called off before we make a mistake we won't be able to take back.”
Sam held up a hand. “The best thing we can do is investigate this ourselves. The only way we can do that is to get back into the Council complex, and let me get a look at the device from the other side of the control panel.”
Cam suspected, despite her enthusiasm at the concept of the device and its possible uses, she'd always wanted to give that portion of the device a test drive, rather than the pods. “Then lets move out. We'll return to the Council and demand a look under the hood.”
“Failing that...” Vala gave a knowing smile, and glanced at Jackson. “We'll distract them while Sam looks.”
“Yeah...about that.” Jackson sat back in the couch, grimacing. “Councilor Solyin probably isn't going to be very happy when we get back.”
---
She wasn't.
In fact, they narrowly avoided being thrown in detainment, or calling off the entire negotiations. Unsurprisingly, her mood didn't really improve when she heard he'd been in contact with the rebels during the whole six hours he'd been missing.
Jackson managed to keep their freedom within the complex, but the Councilor made quite clear that due to the 'delicate situation' in the city at large, if they left the complex again without escort, the negotiations would be at an end.
A lesser man than Cam would have simply walked out of the building and ended it there. He knew better than to purposefully sabotage the mission. While that didn't mean he still wasn't tempted to, he kept to himself, instead. Well. Kept to himself and playing cards with Vala. There wasn't much else to do while Sam inspected the device and the Councilor kept the negotiations for the next morning. Vala had long since gotten bored of hanging off of Teal'c's arm in a futile attempt to arm wrestle the Jaffa. Jackson poured over the available histories in the Council library, searching for references to what actually went down with the device's development-as, again, unsurprisingly the Councilor had been reticent about giving out classified records.
Especially given that they reflected so badly on the Council.
He could see in Jackson's eyes that the man suspected he was quick to believe Cassian's stories about the device only because he had a prejudice against it coming into the situation. Maybe he was, somewhat...but it was true. Cassian couldn't fake Serache. Well, not feasibly. And is gut told him to believe Cassian's story.
Of course, his gut also told him Vala had nothing in her hand, and that was clearly wrong.
“You're not even trying, Mitchell.” Vala pouted. “I realize you've got all those lovely ideas in your head about letting me get whatever I want, but it's no fun if you don't at least pretend to put up a fight.”
He squinted. “That was a lucky hand. And I only let ladies win.”
“Mm. Excuses, excuses.” She waved a hand. “It's cute that you're trying to put into practice what I told you, but really, it's obvious when you do it right after I tell you it.”
“What-” He waved a hand and shook his head, before shuffling the deck. “Never mind. I don't want to know.”
Whatever Vala might have said was cut off when Councilor Solyin burst into the room with an escort of guards. Across the room, Cam dimly noted that Teal'c stood even before he did, reaching for his sidearm.
The Councilor gave no indication that she even noticed their reactions. “Where are the other delegates.”
Cam narrowed his eyes. “Somewhere around the complex.”
“Unacceptable. You, and the rest of the delegates must be moved somewhere secure.”
“Excuse me?”
“It is unsafe here. You will come with me to a place that is.”
So that was how she liked to be when she didn't feel like being polite. She brought men with guns. Entirely unsurprising, given the way she acted when she was being polite. The guards were already fanning around the room, corralling them forward-offering only the option to fight or to leave the room. The Councilor, meanwhile had turned and began leaving the room.
Vala glanced over her shoulder warily at one of the guards gesturing her forward. “What's going on?”
The Councilor paused, as if considering whether to answer. “The complex is under attack.”
--
It was slow going, filing through each of the Council's historical records, searching for obscure, subtle references to what Cam had spoken of. He wouldn't have minded easily accessible clearly worded details of the accounts, as well, but he would have trusted those less, given the circumstances. Not that he particularly trusted this 'Cassian's version of events, either.
More often than not, a man like Cassian's viewpoint was twisted.
He hadn't managed to find much of anything by the time a group of armed men burst into the library.
He blinked up at the doorway from his book. “Well...that's not good...”
The man who appeared to be in charge of the small group turned his attention to him. “Doctor Jackson? Tau'ri delegate?”
He wasn't entirely certain he wanted to identify himself to the man, but he didn't have very much choice in the matter. He wasn't exactly wearing the local colors. “...Yes?”
“You will come with us.”
---
Cam frowned, as he saw Sam approaching, with one of her acutely irritated expressions. The irritation likely had to do with the guard who was walking behind her with a slight limp, but Cam was sure being interrupted and herded down hallways contributed.
He nodded in greeting. “You okay?”
“Yeah...” She frowned as she fell in step with him, walking down the hall. “You were right. I couldn't get a good look at it, but from what I could tell with what little I got to see...it's entirely possible what you described could happen.”
“And working around it?”
She shook her head. “I'd need a better look.”
Councilor Solyin turned around, as Jackson arrived, looking somewhat rumpled. “You will remain in the safe-room before us until the attack has been overcome. These forces are unreasonable and dangerous, they will not differentiate between their goal, and delegates who get in their way.”
“Councilor, that's really unnecessary-”
The woman cut into Jackson's speech. “This is not open to negotiations. We will not allow this to jeopardize our planets' relations. When it is safe, the doors will be opened, and negotiations will be resumed.”
“Look, we could help you.” Daniel quirked a small smile. “We're actually...kind of experienced with this sort of thing.”
“Unacceptable. The risk would be too great.”
“Would that be the risk to our lives, or the risk that we'll help them, instead of you?” Cameron crossed his arms, as Jackson glanced toward him. The Councilor gave no response, she simply gestured toward the doorway, and the guards began closing in once more, herding them forward.
Vala edged closer toward the center where he and Sam stood, as Teal'c tenses-almost imperceptibly. Jackson lifted his hands, and began speaking quickly, attempting to defuse the situation. If Cam knew these people, as he was certain Jackson also did, there was only one way to 'defuse' the situation.
He walked into the room with a slim nod. They couldn't afford to outright fight the Council now. It was best to just wait. Or better, simply go in and break out of the room once the bulk of the guards left to deal with the coup.
The others followed after him moments later, and the door sealed behind him. The room was blank, bright, and unnervingly white. The Council could do with a few tapestries hanging up a few places. Maybe pictures. Hell, a flower vase or two would be an improvement.
Jackson turned back toward him, digging his hands into his pocket. “So. Now what?”
As if someone where waiting for him to speak, the ceiling opened into long slots, and began pouring in a mist that was getting to be altogether far too familiar today.
Vala sighed. “Oh, you just had to say that, Daniel? Didn't you?”
Through the haze, Cam was sure he spotted Jackson manage an ugly look in Vala's direction.
---
Sam frowned, pressing a hand to her head, and willing away the dizziness there. In the heat and excitement of the day, she must have forgotten to drink enough fluids. It wasn't the first time she'd done it, but she could just imagine now how her father would fret if he knew. He wasn't the only one who would. Sam glanced down despite herself--there was barely anything there at all, visually, but she could already feel the changes. Even if she couldn't have, Janet was tracking every step of the process, almost every morning.
Sam gave a soft, private laugh. 'Process'. Daniel would have colorful things to say about that, if he could hear her thoughts. He would probably be right to. She needed to come up with a better term to use...but she still had a good amount of time to decide which one to use, as Janet made certain she knew every time they met. But it was alright, some days it was all too overwhelming for her, and...it helped to have someone nearby occasionally who seemed more caught up in all of it than she was.
Sam made her way down the hallway, toward the rustling sounds coming from the kitchen. A curious, grizzled face peered over the refrigerator door as she shuffled into the room. "We're out of dinners again. Do you think Jacob will be up for another...family dinner?"
She blinked at the familiar face for a long few moments, belatedly noting the weight on her finger. His quizzical expression tightened in suspicion. "...What?"
"...Jack?" The name cut through her daze, and she shook her head quickly. Of course it was Jack. Sometimes, it was hard to believe, even now, years after the fact, that things really turned out like they had. But this was real. She summoned a small smile. "Another impromptu dinner? I'll call Dad and tell him to set more plates. Last time I spoke to him, he wanted to talk to you about something."
"Ah." Jack grimaced briefly, and ducked back into the refrigerator for a moment, apparently determining the trip would be best preceded by alcohol.
"Is there something wrong?"
"Oh, no..." Jack twisted and yanked the cap free, and wandered out from behind the refrigerator. "It's just...when Selmac goes into 'Grandpa' mode..."
Sam snorted, and turned to make her way to the phone. "I'm sure you'll survive, Jack."
Jack gave a sour frown, and drank a swig from his chosen bottle, but gave no response. Maybe she'd talk to her father and Selmac about easing up on Jack a bit. She had a suspicion that Selmac had never really dealt with the situation before. That...seemed right. Everything about him felt alien to the situation. It was no wonder Jack felt uncomfortable with him. It wasn't fair not to talk to him about it rather than kick him out, though.
She'd barely even finished dialing before her father picked up. Her voice caught in her throat as his voice echoed across the phone line. She'd only seen him a week ago...but...it felt like so long since she'd heard his voice. "Sam?"
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, and summoned another smile. "...Dad?"
---
Daniel glanced up from the papers he was pouring over when the door opened. For once, the papers were his own. He was lecturing on alien culture tomorrow, and he had no one else who could understand his noting system except for Jonas Quinn, who was currently off world. When he registered the figure that entered the room, he scooted his glasses up with one hand, and grinned. "Sha're?"
She gave a small, uncertain smile, and fiddled with her ponytail. She never did much like Earth's styles, though Sam did help her adapt to Cheyenne Mountain whenever they needed to spend an extended amount of time on Earth for research purposes, rather than at home in Abydos. Sam had even taken her out to stores and let her choose her own outfits from time-to-time. Sha're seemed to enjoy the trip itself more than the shopping or the clothing she'd chosen. Still, the girls got along, and that was good. It'd been dodgy at first.
"Danyel? Will we go home today?"
He blinked, and glanced down at his watch for a moment, then at the calendar on the desk. Wow, had it really been a week on Earth? Already?
Daniel offered a warm smile, and reached an arm out for her to come closer. "You're right, we are. We've just got to wait until Doctor Quinn returns."
Sha're's smile strengthened and brightened, sitting down on his lap, and resting her head on his shoulder. "Samantha promised another shop-ping trip next time."
"Are you looking forward to it?"
She nodded, curling her arms around his neck. "She said we get necklaces, and something for O'Neill." She lifted her head, and her smile held that odd blend of mischief and curiosity unique to her. "Something with red."
"Well...that should be...interesting for him." Daniel frowned softly, directing a sideways glance toward his wife. It was hard to believe he was here now, with Sha're, exploring the galaxy. If he'd been told this would be his future the day he'd met Catherine Langford in the rain outside his failed lecture, he doubted he could even have comprehended this, let alone accepted it as a possibility.
Sha're smiled, continuing on, divulging the plans she and Sam had made for their next trip to Earth. "O'Neill wishes Skaara accompany us next time."
"Well, we'll have to bring him with, then. I'm sure Janet wouldn't mind a hand with his nephew and Cassie.
Sha're's grin was brilliant, and beautiful enough to make his heart ache. It was all...it was too good to be true. He was sure.
---
The sound of cracking wood split the relative silence of the morning, and the training staff shattered from the force of its impact with its mirror. Rya'c winced at the blow, and shoved the staff off of him with great effort. He was young still, but he was growing. Already he was a worthy warrior, and with time, he would be a great warrior. Of that, Teal'c was certain. Bra'tac would see Rya'c no less, and he would not stand on the sidelines and simply observe his son's development, either.
The purpose of village warriors were simple compared to their duties in past generations, but they remained a solemn duty, and an honor to partake in. To protect the village from wild animals and hunt game appropriate for the appetites of those who depended on the Chulak warriors, and to be on the scene first in case of disasters was a duty which he would not have traded for any other which he knew of.
Sweat beaded along his forehead from the morning workout, as the broke for the mid-day meal Drey'auc prepared. Teal'c snatched up a rag from the nearby fence, and mopped his brow as Rya'c collapsed in the dirt in an over-exaggerated display of fatigue. Such things were expected of his youth. He glanced toward his son only when he had sufficiently recovered from the exercise, and spoke a terse command to hurry the youth along to the meal. Rya'c would one day be a great warrior, yes, but he had yet to face true danger, and at times it seemed he dragged his feet because of it. Although Teal'c was confident his son would rise honorably to whatever challenge would one day present itself, at times he would have preferred Rya'c rise to the occasion before it became completely necessary. Bra'tac felt that Rya'c would realize his destiny in his own time, and thought little of a few years' delay. He spoke wisdom, Teal'c knew. Yet, he could not help the occasional moment of impatience. It was a reminder of his own youth.
Still. He would rather Rya'c drag his feet to train than tragedy force him to become the warrior he would one day realize before it was time. The days his thoughts turned to the possibilities--all vivid imagination--were dark indeed.
Today was not such a dark day. Today was a time for celebration, and celebrate they would. Teal'c brushed aside his thoughts, and followed after his son to his home.
---
Cam paced in a slow circle, blinking at the living room. When had it gotten so crowded? Growing up, he remembered the walls stretching on into infinity. Yeah, okay, so that was definitely youthful exaggeration, but the family had grown, and with it, trinkets and things that were probably useless had invaded the once expansive living room. It wasn't bad enough to be cluttered yet. They could walk through it. Then again, it was mostly his things, so he was probably kidding himself.
Cam turned on his heel, and snatched up a dark-haired, tiny body that raced by him. Tyler screeched in surprise, but the sound quickly dissolved into giggles as Cam swung the child up into his arms, and spun around back to his original bearing. Tyler's bright blue eyes sparkled with mirth, and kicked his legs in excitement over suddenly finding himself in the air. It was clear to Cam already which of the children would be inheriting the Mitchell family career. "What'd Momma say about runnin' in the house?"
Tyler's whine was punctuated with laughter--and lost much of the intended effect. "Amy's gonna get all the coo-ookies!"
Cam snorted. "There's more in the oven, Tyler." The charging around after cookies was only endearing until something got smashed. Then there was Momma and hell to pay. As it so happened, Tyler did not need to respond, as Amy chose that moment to barrel into the room herself, clearly intent on scoring herself some cookies. Upon catching sight of the occupants of the room, however, she skidded to a halt, wide-eyed. Cameron could already see the gears turning in those large hazel eyes, as she scrambled for something to excuse her rule-breaking.
Cam shook his head, and tucked Tyler under an arm, and reached over to scoop Amy up with his other hand. Maybe that was why they let the room get crowded. So the children couldn't scatter and escape. That was probably it.
"Why don't we take this to Momma and see what she says?" He looked between the two children. Tyler rested his elbows on the arm supporting him, and stuck his tongue out at his sister. Amy, who was somewhat less of a fan of heights than her brother, kept her arms hooked around his shoulder, and directed a haughty look toward the other. "Who's seen her last?"
Amy turned her attention from her brother, perking up at the opportunity to provide information. "Momma's napping in bed."
"Napping, huh?" He grinned, and swung around, carrying the two children toward the bedroom. If she'd been napping, she would have laid down when the batch of cookies went in, and would be getting up soon. "How about we go wake her up?"
The duo were less enthusiastic about waking her up than they would have been if he'd mentioned the cookies the endeavor would award them.
The hallways were cluttered, but that was primarily because of the boxes of...things his parents had left in the hallways after they'd emptied the dining room to remodel it. It looked like Ferguson had left his jacket behind the last time he'd visited, and someone had tossed it onto one of the boxes to get it out of the way until he came around again. That would be a least two weeks, until the man returned from his latest recon mission. Whether it would stay there the whole two weeks was debatable.
Tyler helpfully reached over and shoved the door open when the reached their goal, and Cam let the two down, so that they could charge onward. Their two voices competed with each other to explain the situation first. Vala blinked over at the two of them, raking fingers through long, tangled dark hair. She offered a brief, tired smile toward him, before turning her attention to the children.
"Cookies are no excuse to get caught running through the house!" Her voice was surprisingly clear and stern for her rumpled appearance, and the two children immediately halted their explanations, apparently taken as off-guard as himself by her lucidity. "If you're going to get caught, it's never worthwhile."
Cam couldn't help a wry grin at the scene, as he wandered into the room. Usually, that statement was quickly followed by an 'and I'll always catch you in this house' sort of message. It seemed just like Vala's sort of parenting. His parents were somewhat skeptical about it, but he found it irresistibly endearing, and she was fully aware of that. Her gaze flickered up to him briefly, as he sat down next to her on the bed, and she screwed her expression into a disapproving frown.
"Oh, don't you smile and think you're off the hook, Cameron. You're just as bad, hiding behind Mom."
He settled into a soft smile, and reached out to run a hand through her hair. A small smile already tugged at the corners of her mouth by the time he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Maybe I like the view."
Amy gave an annoyed huff that she and her brother had apparently been forgotten for a few moments, and Vala gave a tired snort, reaching up to place a knuckle to his chest and nudge him out of her space. "You. Go get the cookies before they burn. Again. Your mother hates it when you burn things in her oven."
As Tyler cheered at the word 'cookies', Cam shoved off of the bed, glancing over his shoulder at Vala once more. She'd turned her attention from admonishment to managing Amy's hair, pinning the unruly dark locks back with silver barrettes. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, catching particles of dust floating along the air, and glimmering in stunning gold against the girls' hair. It was a perfect moment. If he didn't know better, it could have been right out of a movie.
This wasn't a movie. This moment was all his.