And more specifically, light years from China.
Oshu obediently shuffled backwards out of the room.
Daniel knew he’d promised to keep quiet, but he couldn’t help himself. “I didn’t mind answering your First Prime’s questions.”
Yu harrumphed, and then the remarkable happened.
He spoke without any boom in his voice. Whether it was the host talking, or not, Daniel hadn’t a clue.
“As head of my Royal Guard, Oshu leads my Jaffa with great care. For this, I am grateful.”
Daniel’s mouth gaped open.
“Sit, Dr. Jackson,” commanded Yu, his booming voice returned.
“Our game has only just begun.”
STARGATE COMMAND
STATUS: STANDBY/PERSONNEL MIA
2 JUL 03/1130 HRS BASE TIME
Jack had been asked to do a lot of insane things over the course of his military career, but this took the cake. He looked around the briefing room table at the pale, drawn faces of his teammates and allies, knowing full well they shared his conviction to rescue Daniel.
But not under these terms.
“There’s no way in hell we’re going into enemy territory without weapons.” He jabbed a finger at the metal box containing the Goa’uld communication balls. “And we’re most certainly not bringing in one of those.”
“Colonel, you don’t have a choice,” said Major Davis. “The Oval Office has already agreed to China’s terms. SG-1 must retrieve Dr. Jackson without loss of enemy life. No P90s. No artillery of any sort — ”
“For crying out loud, Davis. Doesn’t that smarmy shrub understand — ”
Davis held up a hand. “The president fully understands the stakes, sir. That’s why he’s authorized the use of zats. Stun only.”
“I would agree to such a mission,” said Bra’tac.
Jack groaned. Good old Bra’tac, willing to jump into the fray… when he really shouldn’t.
“Master Bra’tac?” Hammond swiveled his chair toward him.
“Many Jaffa lives will be saved using such a tactic.”
Jack stared at Bra’tac in disbelief. “Yeah, well… what about our lives?”
“You are fortunate China finds this compromise acceptable,” Huang interjected. He patted the metal box. “Remember, I will be watching at all times. Any misuse — ”
Jack leapt to his feet. “Listen to me, you nit. This isn’t a television show. A man’s life is at stake.”
“Colonel!”
Jack whirled toward the general. “We’re talking about Daniel, sir.”
“I’m fully aware of the situation, Colonel O’Neill.”
“It’s been more than twenty-four hours since that snakehead snatched him up. Now, we’ve got a choice. Either we go in, using all the resources at our disposal, or Oma Desala will do the job for us.”
“Sir,” whispered Carter beside him.
“Jack, take it easy,” Jacob said.
“No, damn it. I’m not taking orders from a country hell-bent on getting their rocks off, just to watch us die.”
Hammond stood up and pointed toward his office. “Colonel, a word.”
“How’s ‘idiotic’? Seven letters. Does that work for you?”
“In my office, now,” ordered the general. “That goes for everyone, including Major Davis. Ambassador Huang, if you’ll excuse us for one moment.”
Hammond about faced and strode off toward his office.
Jack glared down at the ambassador all cozy in his chair.
“The Chinese people protect their emperor,” Huang said. “No matter the cost.”
“You self-righteous sonuvabitch.” Jack struggled to keep his hands from wringing the bastard’s neck.
Huang shrugged. “If I fight, I win. So Confucius says.”
Jack forced himself to walk into Hammond’s office, knowing that if he stayed any longer, he’d end up killing the ambassador… and not regretting it for a moment.
* * *
George Hammond hadn’t felt this boxed in since being caught between two MiG-21’s while flying his F-105 Thunderchief on a bombing run over North Vietnam in ‘67. Thanks to his wingman’s blowing both the enemy’s tanks, George was able to pull up and live to fight another day. But Operation Rolling Thunder had been a strategic failure. Too many airmen were lost because of restraints placed on the military, not to mention the unexpected force of the opposition.
History may have a way of repeating itself, but as long as he was in command, no civilian ambassador was going to get away with putting his people at risk like that, Presidential Orders notwithstanding.
George slid behind his desk, as Jacob and Bra’tac sat down in the visitor chairs. A barely contrite Colonel O’Neill joined Major Carter by the bookshelves. Jack began fidgeting, picking up model planes, pushing around books. George recognized his need for action, not more talk, but talk was what they’d have to do if they were going to figure this thing out.
Major Davis took position in front of the plexiglas star chart, effectively blocking the ambassador’s view from the briefing room. Good man, Davis. Always thinking.
Teal’c was the last one into the room.
“Close the door, please,” George requested.
Teal’c did so and then stationed himself in front of it, blocking anyone else entry. “General Hammond, I must report an observation.”
George sighed heavily. “Can it wait, Teal’c? I think we have more important things to discuss.”
“It cannot,” Teal’c said, stepping forward. “I am unsure why, but there is something familiar about this Ambassador Huang. I recommend caution.”
“Ya think?” Jack snorted derisively.
George stared him down. “You’re in enough trouble already, Colonel. I suggest you — ”
“Keep my big mouth shut, sir?”
“Something along those lines, yes.” George sank into his chair, unsure how to pull their collective tails out of this predicament.
“I apologize, General,” said Major Davis. “The zats were the best the president could offer. We can’t afford to allow the Chinese government to disclose the Stargate Program at this time.”
“I know that, Major. Dismissed.”
“General?”
“Major, I need to speak with my team, if that’s all right with you?”
Davis hesitated. “Sir?”
George mustered up the best smile he could manage. “It will be fine, Major Davis. Now please…”
The Major gave him a short nod and walked out the door.
“What are you thinking, George?” This from his old friend, Jacob.
George crossed his arms and considered their options. “I can’t order anyone to rescue Dr. Jackson under these conditions. It’s too dangerous.”
By the wall, Jack straightened up. “As much as I hate the arrangements, I’ll volunteer, General. I can go in alone. A single infiltration might — ”
George waved him off. “Can’t do that, Colonel. China has explicitly demanded that one of those damn communication devices go with whoever attempts this mission.”
“So we don’t tell them.”
“Are you suggesting we lie, Colonel? Because there are already several Chinese citizens working on this base thanks to the president’s call for mutual cooperation.”
“I’ll go, sir,” Major Carter said. “I can operate the device.”
“I will go as well,” said Teal’c.
Bra’tac also chimed in. “As will I. The opportunity to recruit Yu’s Jaffa into our diminished Fifth Column is too great.”
George fixed his eyes on Jack. His insubordinate behavior — to a foreign diplomat, no less — had placed them all in a difficult position. He said as much.
“I apologize, General,” said Jack. “But something stinks here. Even Teal’c can smell it.”
George couldn’t deny it. Something was wrong. The president would never agree to putting lives at stake just so China could deify a Goa’uld.
On the other hand, the president was in a precarious position thanks to the amount of money the U.S. owed China.
Money, politics and warfare — the three never could meet.
He nodded at Jack. “We’re certainly missing something. That’s why we’re going to review the parameters carefully.”
“So the mission’s on,” Major Carter said.
“With one condition of my own,” he replied. “As difficult as this rescue operation has become, it’d be unfair to even consider asking SG-5 to accompany you.”
“I agree, sir.” Jack nodded. “Less is more.”
Jacob stood up. “If the mission’s on, I should probably go see about that cargo ship.” He headed toward the side door and opened it. On the other side, Dr. Janet Frasier stood, preparing to knock.
The two exchanged nods and Jacob left. George beckoned the doctor in. Her timing was perfect, as usual. Janet Frasier’s cool head and attention to detail were exactly what would be needed if this rescue had any hopes of success.
“I’m glad you’re here, Doctor. We could use your expertise, but before I outline the mission details, I want Teal’c to review what he’s observed about this Ambassador Huang.”
Interlude
PLANET DESIGNATION:
LORD YU’S HOMEWORLD (P3X-042)
STATUS: ENEMY OCCUPIED TERRITORY
APPROX 0200 HRS LOCAL TIME
3 JUL 03/1520 HRS BASE TIME
When the moon finally dropped, it dropped like a rock. Barely a sliver hung above the snow-capped mountains which surrounded Yu’s little domain. Jack stowed away his lighter, zipped his jacket up to his neck against the chill, and headed down toward base camp and the cargo ship.
His legs swished against the hillside’s grasses, lending a military cadence to his descent. It reminded him of the early days of Special Forces training, jogging in formation twenty ugly miles each morning. Tonight, though, he was more than happy to hike as many miles as it took. Being on the move was damn near invigorating after all the waiting he’d done these past few days.
He was done with waiting.
Maybe he wasn’t as smart as Carter, or as educated as Daniel. Maybe Teal’c had the upper hand when it came to actual battle experience — which only made sense considering his hundred plus years.
But Jack knew one thing and he knew it very well.
Fight to win.
Plain and simple.
Having that oily, good-for-nothing ambassador throw Jack’s personal shibboleth back in his face had driven him crazy. Intentionally so, no doubt. But as he hit the ground and began the short walk toward the others, Jack refused to give up on the very core of what had kept him alive all these years.
Jack
would
get Daniel back. There was no way he would give Yu the satisfaction of winning.
Or Oma, for that matter. Even though he had to grudgingly admit his gratitude for her saving Daniel’s ass the last time.
Jack strode by the cargo ship. Teal’c and Bra’tac were eating MREs. Knowing his Jaffa buddy, they were probably eating turkey. Knowing Teal’c’s appetite, probably their third round. They both nodded silently as he went by, their mouths full with good old American stale nourishment.
Ten yards beyond them, Carter was shoving gear into a pack. Her ever ready scanner, a first aid kit, some energy bars. That damned Goa’uld telly ball lay on the ground beside her. Jack wondered briefly if Huang was getting his fix watching her from the safety of twenty thousand or so light years away.
Coward.
Jack briefly considered sticking his middle finger up in salute. He decided against it.
He went past the ball, past Carter who wouldn’t even look him in the eye. She kept her focus on shoving one item into the bag after another. Jack offered her a sloppy salute and got nothing in return. Well, almost nothing. The Major’s arm shot up. In her hand was a zat gun, his for the taking. Jack took it and kept on walking.
No doubt about it. Carter was pissed.
And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Chapter Five
Black stones chased white across the
Wéiqí
board, Daniel doing his best to keep up with Lord Yu. Even with his glasses returned, his eyes blurred when trying to focus on the board. Hunger had as much to do with his fatigue as anything else. The only thing that kept Daniel going was the unspoken fear that if he lost, Yu would kill him. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he won.
He had to find a way out. A way past Yu, past the Jaffa, and through the Stargate.
Peering through the lattice screens on the west side of Yu’s throne room, he located the gate on a lower terrace that stretched out from the cliff that formed the foundation of Yu’s fortress. A glint of late afternoon sun reflected off the top chevron like a beacon, urging Daniel to go through.
The squadron of Jaffa surrounding the gate would make that impossible. Not without serious weaponry, and more importantly, not without his friends. No. Getting to the gate would be an impossible task. In his position, even Jack would admit the same.
Wouldn’t he?
With a sigh, Daniel pushed away the absurd idea of trying to compare himself to Jack, to Teal’c, or even Sam. It was a waste of time. Daniel would have to use his own techniques, develop his own strategy if he was going to make it out.
Low lying fog shrouded a lake only a few miles beyond the gate, blanketing the dilapidated shacks on its shores in a mist of obscurity. If Daniel could make his way out of the fortress, he could possibly hide there until he found a way off the planet. No doubt, Yu’s slaves lived in those tiny hovels. Though ‘live’ wasn’t exactly a word that worked well when your life was owned by a Goa’uld hell bent on universal domination, Daniel was pretty sure the slaves would turn him back in, hoping to curry some favor with their ‘God’.
Frustrated, he turned back to the game. At first, he’d avoided the center of the board which Yu dominated so early on. He made an effort to build up his left corner, but each time he dropped another white stone in place, Yu plunked down another black, cutting him off. Daniel would keep trying to extend a chain of stones in one direction, only to be surrounded by more of Yu’s pieces. Each time it happened, the Goa’uld would snatch up Daniel’s stones with a dissatisfied cluck, as if he was disappointed in Daniel’s gaming skills.
The game had become maddening.
Yu had captured the tenth chain in a row when Daniel decided it was time to try a bit of honesty.
“I really don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“You are losing,” Yu said. With his ribbon-device encased hand, he dipped his fingers into his bowl of black stones.
Daniel scratched his head. “And that’s not a good thing, is it?”
“I did not bring you here to fail, Dr. Jackson.”
“You didn’t?”
Yu took up a small handful of stones from his bowl. “Do you think I would jeopardize my Jaffa if your failure was my intent?”
Tired, hungry, Daniel threw up his hands. “Then tell me why. Just give me a reason. Help me to understand.”
“It is your turn. Place a stone.”
Daniel resisted the urge to pull his hair out and dropped a piece onto one of the intersections now empty from Yu’s last roundup.
“Pick the piece back up.”
“Why?”
“It is
dÎ
jié
. You cannot replay a position on the board I have already taken from you.”
Daniel sat back and studied the board, confused. He knew so little about the game, although, from the few times he’d watched the modern version played, he was fairly certain that, given the right circumstances, one could replay a position.
But far be it for him to argue when being held hostage by an irrational Goa’uld. How Teal’c ever managed it was beyond Daniel’s comprehension, and yet…
Teal’c was released. Oshu had personally escorted him to the gate. First Prime to First Prime, the two had bonded in their mutual goal to fight against Anubis.
But Daniel wasn’t a Jaffa, let alone a First Prime. Though Oshu had expressed interest in learning more about Earth, specifically China, Teal’c’s particular strategy wouldn’t work for Daniel. He’d have to find some other ally to help him.
In the meantime, he’d continue to play, as long it kept him alive. Daniel placed a stone at the center bottom of his side of the board, far removed from all the other pieces in play. Yu nodded approvingly. The Goa’uld left Daniel’s new piece alone, instead plunking a black stone in the center, in the spot once inhabited by one of Daniel’s pieces.
Three knocks on the door brought a scowl to Yu’s face. “You are hungry?”
“I am, thanks,” Daniel said.
There was a certain irony to being polite to a Goa’uld, but if nothing else, food meant surviving all that much longer.
Yu put down his bowl of stones. “
Kree, leaa!
”
A Jaffa entered with a tray of covered dishes in his hand. The only armor he wore was a brigandine leather vest riveted with small oblong steel plates. The Jaffa bore a silver rendition of Yu’s sigil on his forehead. As he set the tray down on top of a wooden casket beside the table, Daniel noticed he also wore a cloak held in place by the same green stone Oshu had worn earlier. The only difference was the cloak’s color: green. Like Oshu, he was clearly Chinese, though somewhat taller and more rounded in the face.
“This is Lao Dan,” said Yu. “Like Oshu, he is a member of my Royal Guard.”
Lao Dan. The name tickled some distant memory for Daniel. Some reference that he couldn’t quite place. He’d remembered so much, including most of Ancient Chinese history, but specific names were sometimes still out of reach.
As Lao Dan bowed his head, a scar across his jaw became visible. Daniel recognized the scar, and the Jaffa. They’d met onboard Yu’s mothership during the flight to the System Lord summit. Lao Dan had been quieter than any other Jaffa Daniel had ever met, even Teal’c. Quiet, but oddly kind… even to a lowly
lotar
. He’d patiently reminded Daniel where to bunk, what supplies to use for tea. He’d even helped prepare Yu’s meals.
Lao Dan wasn’t the First Prime, but the Jaffa’s kindness might be just the thing to form a connection which could help Daniel escape.
If Daniel could find a way to speak to him alone.
As the Jaffa removed the dish covers, Daniel silently prayed live Goa’uld symbiotes weren’t on the menu. Just the memory of the System Lords cannibalizing their living relatives gave him the creeps.
Yu handed Daniel a small square glazed ceramic plate. “Eat. Then we continue.”
Daniel took the offered dish, relieved to find cooked, somewhat familiar foods. He bit into a puffed ball of dough, its center filled with heavily seasoned meat drenched in a molasses sweet sauce. Using a pair of gold chopsticks, Yu dug into a bowl of fried fish no larger than minnows.
After devouring his second meat bun, Daniel noticed Lao Dan had stepped back by one of the screens, standing next to the jade sculpture. As Yu took up a bowl of syrupy fruits, Daniel decided to take advantage of the Goa’uld’s distraction and try to speak with the Jaffa one on one.
“Can I get up and stretch my legs?” he asked. “Might help me stay awake.”
His mouth full, Yu nodded his assent. He attacked the food with single-minded ferocity. Daniel stood up and, though his legs were shaky from sitting so long, he managed to appear casual as he joined Lao Dan.
No more than two feet in height, the roughly hewn jade sculpture depicted a robed woman with what appeared to be her three sons. In one arm, she held a baby. At her feet, a small boy clutched her free hand, one leg tentatively raised as if walking his first steps. Beside them, an adolescent boy waved toward something, or someone, in the distance.
Daniel turned toward Lao Dan and asked, “Is the statue very old?”
The Jaffa’s eyes lit up. “As old as my master’s reign amongst the Tau’ri.”
“Really?” Daniel bent down, pretending to study the statue closer. He glanced over his shoulder. Yu was almost finished with his meal. Daniel would have to hurry if he hoped to make some sort of connection with Lao Dan. He’d have to say something that might stir up sympathies. Something that would speak to what the Jaffa might secretly crave.
Freedom.
“
Shel kek nem ron
,” Daniel whispered.
I too shall die free
, the code greeting between rebel Jaffa.
Lao Dan’s eyes widened, lending hope to Daniel that he’d hit home. The Jaffa bent down beside him.
“The water is held captive by the river’s banks. Yet it is free, is it not?”
Daniel did a double take. “I beg your pardon?”
“Water is soft and weak, but it can move earth and carve stone. Harmony is the way of my ancestors, Dr. Jackson. To work against the ways of the universe would disrupt that harmony.”
Lao Dan stood up, gesturing for Daniel to do the same.
“And you think it’s harmonious to serve Lord Yu?” Daniel asked softly, unable to believe his ears. He stepped closer to Lao Dan, struggling to keep any harshness from his voice as he whispered, “Do you have any idea what he is? What he and his kind have done to countless millions across the galaxy?”
“The ways of
wu wei
may be foreign to you, though — ”
“Wait,” Daniel interrupted. “
Wu wei
. That’s part of Chinese Taoism. It means action through inaction or something like that.”
“So my ancestor wrote in the
Tao Te Ching.
” With a brief smile, Lao Dan returned to Yu’s side and began to collect the empty dishes.
My ancestors? The
Tao Te Ching
was a sixth century B.C. book of Taoist philosophy, a philosophy of peace that was still fairly popular. On Earth. Not some Jaffa legend handed down from warrior to warrior.
A wheel clicked into place in Daniel’s mind. A memory of the
Tao Te Ching
. More importantly, a memory of its author: Lao Tzu.
Also known as Lao Dan.
Daniel returned to his seat as the Jaffa removed the tray. With a bow, Lao Dan departed, leaving Daniel more puzzled than disappointed. Though he hadn’t succeeded in gaining a potential ally, there was something going on here, some tie to Ancient China that went beyond the persona that a System Lord habitually donned to awe his slaves.
The Chinese herbs. The cherry blossom tree. Classic scrolls covered in Chinese writing. The
Wéiqí
board. The way Yu reacted when Daniel mentioned how the Japanese had stolen credit for the game.
Was the Goa’uld so far gone that he really believed he was part of Chinese history?
More importantly, could Daniel use that weakness, that bit of insanity, to get himself freed?
Yu handed Daniel a small bowl of water and a cloth to wash his hands. It was all so civilized, so ridiculously absurd.
“It is your turn.”
STARGATE COMMAND
STATUS: STANDBY/PERSONNEL MIA
2 JUL 03/1215 HRS BASE TIME
George Hammond dismissed Jack and the rebel Jaffa from his office. As they departed through the side door, he studied the colonel’s body language for any signs that he’d made the wrong decision. There’d been shadows under the man’s eyes, though who wouldn’t have a sleepless night when a member of their team was in trouble? Otherwise, George had seen nothing amiss.
For this mission to work, he’d have to rely on everyone to play their part, Jack most especially. No creative detours. No second guessing what to do next. Not when the future of the Stargate Program, let alone Dr. Jackson’s life, depended on the outcome.
As he stood up from his desk, the remaining officers in the room came to attention. The earnest faces of Majors Carter and Davis waited for his lead. Dr. Frasier shared a brief smile with him, a heartwarming moment’s assurance that was just the medicine he needed for what lay ahead.
Finally, they couldn’t wait any longer. He asked his officers, “Are we ready to do this?”
“Yes, sir.”
With a nod to Major Davis, the door was opened and George led the three officers back into the briefing room. Ambassador Huang stood over by the observation window which overlooked the gate-room. In that candid moment, George observed a different manner about the man. Huang’s forehead rested against the window with one hand pressed against the glass. There was a look of longing to his posture.
“If I was thirty years younger,” said Huang, “I would be eligible to join the Chinese scientists you’ve begun to incorporate into the S.G.C.”
George joined him by the window. “I know the feeling, Ambassador. A part of me is envious every time my personnel walk through that gate.”
Huang lifted his head from the window and gazed at George. “It is painful to accept the limitations of age. To know that younger men now lead.”
George knew all too well, but kept his thoughts to himself. He gestured toward the table. “Ambassador, please be seated. We’d like to discuss moving forward with your request.”
Huang’s face lit up and he hurried to his seat. Far quicker, George noted, than someone of his age should. Dr. Frasier sat down next to Huang and introduced herself. She pulled him into a moment’s chat about his homeland, mentioning her fondness for jade and complimenting him on his tie pin. The talk soon turned to the uses of ancient Chinese herbs in modern medicine.
Convinced Huang was in a more amicable mood, George pushed things ahead.
“I want to apologize for Colonel O’Neill’s behavior, Mister Ambassador.”
Huang waved a dismissive hand. “I understand his passion to retrieve his comrade, General.”
“Good, then. After much discussion with SG-1, they’ve agreed to your terms.”
With a smile, Huang patted his box. “China will not soon forget — ”
“Would you like something to drink,” asked Dr. Frasier. “Maybe some water?”
Huang turned toward the petite doctor and blinked. “If it would be no trouble, thank you.”
As Dr. Frasier poured him a glass of water from the table’s pitcher, Major Davis repeated George’s earlier apology.
Huang sipped his water as Davis ended his diplomatic turn at making amends. The major could be effectively long-winded when the need arose, as it so very much did in this case.