STARGATE SG-1: Do No Harm (12 page)

And there it was… the elephant in the room, called out loud by name. Sam exchanged glances with Daniel and cleared her throat.
He owes him? Owes him what?
“Sir, I’d like to say how very sorry I am about Colonel Cromwell. Colonel O’Neill tried his hardest to stop him falling into the black hole. He nearly didn’t make it himself because he — ”

“I read the reports, Major,” said Dixon mildly. “I know what happened. It wasn’t your fault, or O’Neill’s. It was… one of those things.”

One of those things that still woke her in the middle of the night, a year later. “I hardly knew Colonel Cromwell — there wasn’t time — but he seemed like a fine man.”

Dixon shoved his almost empty plate away. “Yeah. He was.”

Beneath the mild voice, an aching abyss of regret. “I’m sorry,” she said again, feeling her own regrets stir to a sharp empathy. “Really.”

“Thanks,” said Dixon and stood, folder in hand. “Well, that’s me done. Guess I’ll see you in the briefing.”

“Huh,” said Daniel, as they watched Dixon thread his way through the tables towards the commissary door. “You know, he’s kind of normal for Special Forces, don’t you think?”

Sam sighed. “We’ve had this conversation before, Daniel. Being crazy is not a pre-requisite for joining black ops.”

“No,” said Daniel, thoughtfully. “But I think it helps.”

She gave him a look. “Just shut up and eat, would you? We’ve only got twenty minutes.”

“Good work, Major, Doctor,” said General Hammond, once Sam and Daniel had finished their presentations. “Am I right in thinking there must be more of a human presence on Adjo than that one settlement?”

Praise from Hammond never failed to lift Sam’s spirits. Not even Teal’c’s dour, silent presence at the briefing table could dampen her pleasure. Repressing a smile as she took her seat again she said, “Yes, sir. There is.”

“The video footage showed well-used tracks leading towards the open end of the valley and several carts coming and going,” explained Daniel. “Clearly there’s thriving social interaction between the people we observed and at least one other human settlement.”

“But why didn’t we see any of them?” said Colonel Dixon. “The UAV’s range is what — fifty klicks, give or take? What’s the point of having villages spread so far apart?”

“Ah, well, there could be any number of reasons,” said Daniel. “Topographical features, social divisions. But I think the most obvious explanation is that the UAV reached the limits of its telemetry before it was able to film the whole area. Or we sent it flying directly away from the other village or villages.”

“Nah, I’m betting it’s got something to do with religion,” said Colonel O’Neill. “It always does, with you.”

Daniel stared. “The human populations we encounter often make religion the centerpiece of their societies. It’s part of the social control mechanism.
I
simply observe the phenomenon and try to make sense of it.”

The tiniest hint of a smile quirked the colonel’s lips. “Yes, Daniel.”

“I mean, sure, religion is one explanation,” said Daniel. “Or it could be an habituated response to an original stimulus.”

“Say that again,” the colonel invited. “Three times, really fast. I dare you.”

With an heroic effort Daniel refused to rise to the bait. “General, it could be that these humans widely scattered their population centers to minimize losses if the Goa’uld returned. This village’s distance from the Stargate would certainly explain that. And then, what started out as a survival mechanism evolved over time into a custom. A tradition. Probably they don’t even remember why they live like this. They just do it because they always have.”

The general nodded. “Something you can follow up when you get there, Doctor.”

“Really?” Colonel O’Neill looked surprised, and not altogether in a good way. “You want Daniel futzing around with that soft-soap touchy feely stuff, sir?”

“I do indeed,” said Hammond. “In fact establishing friendly relations with the humans on 844, learning all we can about them, will be Doctor Jackson’s top mission priority.”

Daniel was grinning, delighted. “Wow, General. That’s — I’m — wow.
Thank
you.”

“Don’t thank me, Doctor. Thank the Pentagon,” said Hammond. “We want this mission to go off without a hitch. The last thing we need is a repeat of the problems we had on PXY-887.”

“You can say that again, sir,” said the colonel, with feeling. “One arrow through the arm is enough to be going on with, thank you very much.”

Sam winced, remembering. “Hear, hear,” she muttered, which earned her a look from the colonel.

“
You
did all right out of it. You got your first command.”

She smiled. “Thank you for reminding me, sir. I keep forgetting to send the Salish a card.”

“And once you’ve established a rapport with these people, Doctor Jackson,” Hammond continued, amused, “it’s my hope — and the President’s — that they’ll be able to guide you to all the abandoned mines in the area so we can make an accurate assessment of the resources available for acquisition.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said the colonel. “Is there a timeframe we’re supposed to be working within?”

“ASAP,” said Hammond.

The colonel rolled his eyes. “Surprise, surprise.”

Colonel Dixon said, “General, what’s the deal if these people, like the transplanted Salish on 887, don’t want us touching any of Adjo’s resources?”

“887 was a unique set of circumstances, Colonel,” said Hammond, easily. “I think it’s highly unlikely we’ll discover that these humans are also under the protection of technologically advanced aliens masquerading as Native American gods.”

“Unlikely but not impossible,” said Dixon. “At least, some kind of variation on the theme is possible. Isn’t it? In which case, sir — ”

“In which case SG-1 will negotiate terms, if any negotiation is necessary. In consultation with myself and the US government, naturally.”

“General, does that include offering them relocation?” said Daniel. “If they want it? And if they don’t, at the very least humanitarian assistance? If Teal’c’s right, these people have been on their own in most likely primitive conditions for a long time. It’s a given they’ll be educationally deprived. Probably medically deprived, too. If we’re going in there to take advantage of Adjo’s natural resources don’t we owe them — ”

“Are you saying you object to the nature of the mission, Doctor?” said Hammond. “Should we not be attempting to secure reliable supplies of trinium, naquadah — ”

“No, sir,” Daniel said quickly. “We need those things and I’m all for acquiring them. I’m just pointing out, respectfully, that this has to be a
quid pro quo
arrangement. Or, you know…”

“We’re no better than the Goa’uld,” said Hammond. “Yes. I do know that, Doctor. And I have no objections to you presenting a report on the humanitarian aspects of this mission. Obviously if they do want to relocate Earth’s out of the question, but there might be other alternatives available.”

Daniel’s face lit up again. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Colonel O’Neill shook his head. “Just don’t get carried away.”

Ignoring the looks exchanged between Daniel and the colonel, Hammond said, “Major Carter, how soon before you’ll be ready to sign off on the pre-mission telemetry?”

She checked her notes. “Ah… soon, sir. Within the next day, I think. There’s still some stuff Teal’c needs to — ”

“General Hammond,” said Teal’c. He so rarely interrupted that everyone stared at him. “I regret to inform you that I am unable to endorse the mission to Adjo.”

“What?” said Hammond blankly, into the silence.

“I know this is not what you wish to hear,” Teal’c continued, his face grave, his voice calm. “And for that I am truly sorry. But I believe it is a serious error to pursue a mission to this planet. I would be negligent not to state my objections for the record.”

Hammond sat back in his chair. “Teal’c, I — quite honestly, I don’t know what to say.”

Hands clasped before him on the table, Teal’c inclined his head solemnly. “I realize I am placing you in a difficult position, General. But to remain silent would be a betrayal.”

“Teal’c…” Hammond shook his head. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not slighting the value of your experience
or
your instincts, but we need to be realistic. To the best of our knowledge this planet’s been untouched by the Go’auld since Ra and Seth abandoned it. Absolutely nothing in the UAV and MALP footage indicates a Goa’uld presence, and every sample collected has been cleared by the labs. There is simply no empirical evidence supporting the notion that Adjo is in any way dangerous.”

Sam glanced at Daniel, who was frowning at his folded hands. Glanced at the colonel, who stared at the ceiling. If he was uncomfortable ignoring Teal’c’s concerns he wasn’t showing it. She cleared her throat.

“No empirical evidence, that’s true, General,” she said. “But — ”

Now she had Colonel O’Neill’s attention. “What,
you’re
getting cold feet? Because of a fairy tale? Come on, Carter. You know better than that.”

“Major, I don’t dispute Adjo may have had problems in the past,” said the general, “but
thirty
centuries
have gone by. I think delaying this mission because of a hunch, even when it’s Teal’c’s, is carrying caution just a bridge too far. And I can tell you, unequivocally, the President is not going to accept that rationale.”

She knew that, of course. But saying nothing had felt disloyal. She had one last bullet in her gun… “Then sir, while not wishing in any way to contradict you, I’d like to put in one last call to my father. Obviously we can’t wait indefinitely for the Tok’ra to reply, but if we could make contact with Dad and he can supply us with reliable information perhaps Teal’c’s misgivings could be allayed.”

Hammond thought for a moment, then nodded. “All right. But before we start making any intergalactic phone calls — ” He shifted his cool blue gaze to Teal’c. “If, Teal’c, after all due consideration I give the order for SG-1 to proceed, does your noted objection mean you’ll refuse to accompany them?”

“No,” said Teal’c, after an agonizing moment of silence. “I am sworn to serve you and the SGC, General Hammond. I will never abandon SG-1 no matter how ill-judged I feel a mission might be.”

Ouch. A backhanded compliment and then some.

“So in other words,” said Colonel O’Neill, “you just want to get out ahead on the whole ‘I told you so’ routine.”

Sam felt, rather than heard, Colonel Dixon’s amusement. She shifted her gaze to find that he was looking at her. Despite her unease she felt her lips soften into what was almost a smile. One of his eyebrows lifted, a quizzical, ironical comment on the proceedings. Then he was paying attention again.

“O’Neill, I do not find your flippancy helpful,” Teal’c said. He almost never bit the colonel; everyone round the briefing table sat a little straighter, even General Hammond. “Surely you must know I do not say these things lightly.”

“Yes, Teal’c, of course I know that,” said the colonel. Not teasing now, not poking a sly jab, just deadly serious. “But you have to understand what’s at stake. You know what those vultures in Washington are like. What we’ve achieved already around here isn’t enough for them. It’ll never be enough. We have to keep justifying our existence every day of every week of every month of every year. If that wasn’t the case us saving
the damned planet from Apophis and his mother ships would’ve
earned us a lifetime pass to keep the lights on — but it didn’t. And
that
means even if there were Goa’uld hanging Christmas decorations off the Adjo gate I’d be saying ‘let’s go’ because it’s what we do. It’s how we keep the lights on.”

It came as a shock to hear the raw passion vibrating in the colonel’s voice. He so rarely permitted deep emotion to show.

“I understand that, O’Neill,” said Teal’c. “I have said what I must. I will say no more.”

“Then I suggest Major Carter tries one last time to get ahold of her father,” said General Hammond. “So we can move on. Major?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, and pushed to her feet. He waved her through the door and she led him and her team out of the briefing room to the control room.

As a result of the successful mission to Ne’tu, the Tok’ra had granted the SGC more liberal access to their whereabouts and personnel. She dialed the gate to Vorash and opened a communications link through the wormhole, acutely aware of Hammond and the colonel practically breathing down her neck. Aware, too, of Teal’c’s silent, brooding disapproval — which in its own way was more disconcerting than the worst O’Neill sarcasm on record.

“This is Major Samantha Carter of the SGC,” she said, with her fingers metaphorically crossed.
Be home, Dad, please be home
. “Again. I need to speak with my father, Jacob. Is he available yet?”

A moment’s delay, as the signal traveled light years. Then: “
Greetings, Major Carter. I am Rusalla of the Tok’ra. We have yet to meet in person but I know much of you and your Tauri companions from Jacob. Unfortunately, Jac
ob and Selmak are still unavailable. Perhaps another Tok’ra can be of assistance
?”

She glanced at Hammond, who shook his head fractionally. She nodded. “Rusalla, it’s good to meet you. And thanks for the offer but this is kind of… personal. And time sensitive. Is there any way you can patch me through to my father as a matter of urgency?”

A longer delay, that didn’t have so much to do with lightyears. “
Major Carter, that might be problematic. However I can register your contact with us and
— ”