XOVER: Changing of the Guard 5: Terms of Engagement 7/19 [PG13]
Ecolea (ecolea@wt.net)
Thu, 20 Jun 2002 00:33:36 -0500
Chapter 10
Nordovic shook his head in dismay at the readout screen then switched =
the view to an interior of the old computer core. Designed in the early =
days of space flight, when there'd been great fear of saboteurs, the =
core, if breached, became a killing zone. Thankfully, from what Nordovic =
could see, no one had been in the area when the system went haywire, =
triggering the security defaults. Some of those old areas were regular =
hangouts for off duty personnel. And no matter how many warnings he =
issued about the danger, someone always had the bright idea that they =
were somehow immune or immortal.
With a frown Nordovic went to find his old code key. The damn system =
would have to be reset manually. More importantly, as Chief of Security =
he could document the hazard the core represented -- even if no one had =
been killed by the defense mechanism -- this time. That might count for =
something, though he doubted it. A couple of dead crewmen would probably =
have convinced the brass. Or better yet, he thought wishfully, those =
disgusting Jaffa and their master, Sip-something, or whatever its name =
was.
A short time later Nordovic was standing before the door to the computer =
core staring in disbelief at the code panel. Something sharp had been =
inserted deep into the card slot and fried the controls from the inside =
out. Still, he thought, with a rising sense of alarm that wouldn't have =
triggered the intruder eradication mechanism as his readouts confirmed =
was the case. That was keyed for fingerprint identification -- and only =
he and a handful of others had been designated access to this particular =
system.
With a hint of trepidation Nordovic pried open the doors, searching the =
room for signs of a body. It couldn't just be a coincidence, he thought, =
deeply confused, when the room proved to be just as empty as his viewer =
had shown it to be.
The crease lines above his brows drew together in consternation as he =
took a seat at the old terminal and reached to switch it on. Then =
something caught his eye. Something altogether out of place. A bit of =
white cloth tinged with dried blood peeked out from under the edge of =
the keyboard.
Nordovic pulled it out, staring in confusion. There was nothing alive, =
not even a Goa'uld, which could survive high-low killing frequencies -- =
at least not without some very specific protective gear. And from the =
amount of blood, it looked like the system had worked on somebody.
Faintly nervous, Nordovic switched on the system and pulled up the =
security vid of the room, running it back to just moments before he'd =
caught the warning signal on the bridge the night before. And there it =
was, he thought with a rising sense of horror, two men in crisp white =
uniforms entering the room as if...as if they were running from =
something. He switched his view to the corridor monitors and nodded =
silently as he recognized the Goa'uld and its Jaffa. More importantly, =
he knew those uniforms and of the men who wore them -- the two =
ambassadors from Earth. The world the Goa'uld cursed at every =
opportunity and the hatred it had shown when it saw the one called =
O'Neill had been named to the Council of the Alliance.
Nordovic watched the scene unfold as Ambassador Pierson inadvertently =
triggered the security system. And the system had worked. But if that =
was so, where were the bodies?
He hurriedly forwarded the images, stunned as Pierson eventually rose =
from the dead, quickly followed by O'Neill. How is this possible? =
Nordovic wondered in amazement as he watched them depart, seemingly no =
worse for wear.
Curiously, he glanced at the time indicator and his eyes widened in =
shock. If this was correct, and Nordovic knew it must be, then the ship =
had been underway for some time before the men arose. Which meant...
Three moons help me! Pierson and O'Neill must still be aboard!
***
"That look like an exit to you?"
Methos tilted his head to the side, squinting at the diagram. "It looks =
like a doorway to nowhere," he finally remarked. "Except..."
"Yes?" O'Neill grinned.
"Except there's lots of unaccounted for space between it and the =
bulkhead."
"Okay! Now, look here," O'Neill pulled up another schematic, "and tell =
me what you think this is."
Methos let out a long breath, staring hard as he formed an image in his =
mind. "It looks like the specs for some kind of escape pod."
"And its size?" O'Neill inquired smugly as Methos began to smile.
"Just about the right size to fit that empty space between the inner =
wall of the ventilation system and the outer barrier bulkhead."
"My thoughts exactly," O'Neill replied.
"You're right, " Methos acknowledged with a brief nod. "We should =
definitely check it out. They may have simply sealed it off in the rush =
to complete that pristine outer hull."
"Possibly," the colonel agreed.
"More like probably," Methos argued. "If you are right and it was a rush =
job meant to impress the other delegates."
"Think positive, Pierson," Jack slapped his shoulder. "Even if it is =
sealed off, I'm sure we can figure out how to get past that little =
problem."
"We?" Methos inquired archly.
"What? You never learned how to make C4 and set it for a controlled =
explosion?"
"Must have missed that episode of Cooking Up Explosives with Julia =
Child. But I can make a lovely batch of dynamite if you need," he added =
cheerfully.
"I'll keep it in mind."
Chapter 11
Nordovic paced his quarters trying to decide what to do. This was no =
longer simply a matter of tweaking the records, but a serious breach of =
security. No it's not! Nordovic reminded himself sternly. The two =
ambassadors hadn't seen anything classified. They'd simply died and went =
to hide, probably from the Goa'uld. He certainly would have in their =
position!
The thought made him smile slyly. He hated the Goa'uld, as did many of =
the officers he knew. And from all accounts, O'Neill and Pierson came =
from a world that had successfully fought against them. If he reported =
their presence there would doubtless be a hunt for the two hapless =
stowaways -- quickly followed by not two, but three executions. And as =
far as Nordovic knew he wasn't likely to rise from the dead.
The question now became should he or shouldn't he help the ambassadors?
Nordovic went to his private terminal and ran a scan of the ship's =
computer system to check for any unauthorized access. What he found not =
only surprised him, but brought a smile to his face. No unauthorized =
activity on any of the newer systems, but someone had accessed an old =
terminal from an unused portion of the crew deck.
"Clever," he murmured thoughtfully, as he pulled up the files they'd =
chosen to peruse. These men were smart, operating under the assumption =
that, in this case, less was more. Nordovic nodded decisively as he made =
his choice. Slowly and carefully he erased all indication of their =
presence from the system. Then he tweaked the chronometer on the =
security video and deleted that portion which revealed their intrusion. =
Later, when the third and smallest shift took over the running of the =
ship, he would head down and repair the damaged locking mechanism =
himself.
In another day and a half they'd be on Gallisia. There were only two =
ways off this ship. The first was to brazenly attempt to get past =
security. The second was a risky, chance-taking move that seemed more in =
keeping with the spirit O'Neill and Pierson had shown. Risky for him as =
well to try and cover it up. Still, if he played his cubes right, they =
might all escape unscathed, without anyone the wiser.
Even so, it was a chance Nordovic was willing to take. He didn't know =
who in the government had made this traitorous deal with the Goa'uld, =
but he suspected it would ultimately spell Gallisia's doom. And that he =
could not allow. Not even if it meant his life.
With a silent prayer for the two men in hiding, Nordovic turned off his =
view screen. Perhaps they could help Gallisia, perhaps not. But at the =
very least, he had to give them the opportunity to try.
***
While Nordovic paced and the men in hiding plotted their escape, across =
the galaxy a different sort of meeting was taking place.
"I'm not sure I heard you correctly," General Hammond said quietly to =
Narim as they stood before the Cheyenne Mountain stargate. "Did you say =
Colonel O'Neill and Captain Pierson were missing?"
"Forgive me, General, for not being clearer," the Tolan replied. "When =
the ambassadors did not appear for an important vote the Council meeting =
was postponed until they could be located. This was two days ago. As =
yet, no trace of them has been found."
"So they are missing!" Daniel interjected.
"Please, Dr. Jackson," Hammond held up a hand then returned his =
attention to Narim. "No trace whatsoever?" he questioned dubiously. =
"Where were they last seen?"
"I believe they meant to attend a gathering hosted by the Gallisians. =
One of the less primitive worlds protected by the Alliance. Captain =
Pierson and O'Neill seemed interested in negotiating a trade agreement."
"Sounds about right," Daniel said to no one in particular.
"And then?" the general asked soberly.
"The Gallisian flagship was called home, though their ambassador =
remains," Narim explained. "He has stated, and I believe him, that all =
his guests were safely escorted from the ship prior to departure."
"What about the Asgard?" Carter asked. "They've scanned for Colonel =
O'Neill before and found him. What does Thor have to say?"
Narim gazed at her sadly. "Unfortunately, the Asgard commander has not =
made himself available for questioning. Nor, I might add, has Lya, the =
representative of the Nox. They are as conspicuously absent as your =
colleagues."
"I see," Hammond murmured. "Then I have to assume they are aware of the =
situation and are engaged in a search for our people."
Narim looked pessimistic. "I would not casually assume that is true," he =
told them. "The Nox do not interfere in the affairs of others, and the =
Asgard ship remains in orbit above Lakwasa."
"Then we must go to Lakwasa," Teal'c stated firmly. "Perhaps there is a =
reason for the Asgard lack of interest."
Daniel and the others looked surprised. "You think Thor knows where they =
are and isn't saying?" Jackson asked.
Teal'c's face remained expressionless. "I believe there may be other =
avenues which can be investigated."
"Agreed," General Hammond nodded. "Narim, would you escort the rest of =
SG-1 to Lakwasa and see if they can join the search team?"
"I would be happy to," Narim smiled, turning his soft gaze on Carter. =
"It would be my pleasure to assist you in any way possible."
Chapter 12
"Did you save it?" O'Neill asked tersely as he again sorted through =
their supplies.
Methos grimaced in disgust. "Yes, I saved it!" he spat back. "You know, =
I've done a lot of really nasty things in my time, but this has to rank =
somewhere near the top."
O'Neill sighed sadly. "Damn! And I so wanted it to be the rankest."
"Not quite," Methos muttered. "Pissing into a bucket and having to live =
with the stench when locked in a confined space is nothing new."
"Yeah, but did you want to save it?"
"Certainly not!" Methos slid onto his bunk, crossing his arms with an =
expression of distaste. "Which is why this makes the list."
"And it'll only get worse," O'Neill warned in a voice filled with mock =
foreboding. "We still have to render the stuff down and mix the =
ingredients."
With a shake of his head Methos groaned softly. "I'm dreading it =
already." He sat back on his elbows and glared at the colonel. "And you =
say you learned how to do this where?"
O'Neill shrugged diffidently. "Same place I learned to eat bugs, extract =
water from the desert air, and make a shelter out of body parts."
"Sounds charming," Methos commented wryly as O'Neill stood and moved =
towards the door, eyeing the containers they'd both begun filling as =
soon as Jack had formulated their plan. "And where are you going?"
"Back to the supply closet. We need a few more ingredients."
Methos winced visibly. "I cannot believe we're actually going to make C4 =
out of toothpaste, soap and...and...pee!"
"Among other things," Jack added cheerfully. "And it's not exactly C4 =
we're making this time, but it should do the trick."
"Wonderful," Methos mumbled under his breath as the door closed silently =
behind O'Neill.
He stared thoughtfully at the supplies already stacked under the bunk =
opposite him. In another day the ship would reach its destination and =
they would have to be ready to make their move. Their one and only foray =
to the old escape pod had confirmed their worst suspicions. Rather than =
remove the pods with their explosive hatchways, the Gallisians had =
simply sealed them behind a refurbished air duct system and enclosed the =
old hull with stronger plating and no outer opening.
The four man pods, located all over the older portions of the ship, were =
still intact and functional, but access to them was difficult. And =
though getting into one was not impossible, as he and O'Neill had =
discovered, blasting through the naquada enhanced titanium hull would be =
-- unless they created enough explosive force to do the job. That is, =
enough of an outward explosion, rather than an implosion, in combination =
with the explosive hatchways to blow a big enough hole in the hull to =
allow the pod to drop.
And that's where this gets really ticklish, Methos inwardly sighed. If =
O'Neill's calculations were off by just a fraction, the resulting =
explosion could damage the pod. And since the plan was to make their =
escape during the ship's entry into the Gallisian atmosphere -- when the =
heat of re-entry would be searing the well-shielded hull -- therein lay =
the danger. Of course, that was the exact moment when the ship's systems =
would also be suffering the most strain. Which meant a minor breach of =
the hull in a refitted, unused area of the ship might simply be =
explained away as a stress induced blowout caused by sloppy construction =
or a manufacturing flaw in the plating. At least, they hoped it would =
be.
Still, there would likely be an inquiry -- one that would ultimately =
reveal the true nature of the hull breach. But by that time they should =
be well away from the pod and on their way to...
Methos shrugged and lay back on his bunk trying to ignore the pungent =
scent of au de lavatory in the cramped, poorly ventilated room. Once =
they were safely on the ground what did it matter where they were? And =
he wasn't too sure they were going to survive their "escape" anyway, so =
why worry about it now?
With a sigh, Methos covered his face with his arm and tried to get some =
sleep. The next thirty-six hours were likely to prove exhausting and he =
wanted to be ready for anything.
Besides, he thought with a shudder of disgust. When they started cooking =
up that foul recipe Jack had concocted, he'd probably be the one =
stirring the bloody pot!
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