<<Previous  | Story Intro | Return to Stories | Next >>

Playing Ba'al 

General Hammond looked up when two men entered his office. Two men who should be on the bridge of their respective ships. "Gentlemen," he said, sitting back in his chair. "To what do I owe this surprise visit?"

Colonel Ronson and Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell exchanged nervous glances. "The Phoenix returned about two hours ago," Ronson said.

"Yes, it did. Colonel Johnson gave his report an hour ago. I’m due to meet with SG-7 in thirty minutes."

"Sir, we’ve just stirred up a hornet’s nest," Mitchell said, shifting on his feet. "There’s bound to be a lot of Goa’uld flying around out there, looking for Ba’al and his clone."

"I agree, Colonel Mitchell," Hammond nodded.

"Sir, a lone ship out there…a lone Tau’ri ship out there, could be destroyed in a heartbeat," Mitchell continued. "I’ve seen how they fight. If they find a single ship out there, they’ll pound on it until it’s gone. Even a new X304 isn’t going to be able to fight off a dozen ships or more."

With a frown, Hammond leaned forward and rested his arms on his desk. "I take it you have a suggestion?"

Mitchell nodded. "Yes, sir. Let one of us join the Odyssey. Chances are better that the Goa’uld won’t try to take on two ships as quickly as they would just one."

"We have the coordinates," Ronson added. "If the Daedalus goes, and they do need help, the Prometheus could be there in less than thirty minutes."

"And the Phoenix?"

The two commanders exchanged a look. "Sir, at least one ship needs to stay here. And…until Colonel Johnson has a bit more…experience…" Mitchell let his voice fade.

The general had known that putting Abraham Johnson in as commander of one of the ships was a move that most of his subordinates wouldn’t understand. Tough, determined, and by-the-book, Johnson wasn’t what many would consider a man able to adjust quickly to new…and totally unexpected…circumstances. What he knew about the colonel, personally, was that Johnson was an excellent commanding officer; and in the heat of battle, his was a brilliant military mind. He would also do whatever it took to protect his crew.

"Sir, I know Colonel Johnson’s reputation. He’s an exceptional leader," Mitchell said quietly. "I’d follow that man to hell if that was the mission, because I know he’d bring me home safe and sound."

Hammond smiled. In all the time he’d been at the SGC, not once had he ever heard any of the officers criticizing each other. At least, not in front of him. The respect and high regard the men and women in the facility held one another was unlike any other military base in the country…in the world.

"But sir, he’s been on that ship a grand total of twenty-four hours. Spent his first few hours in that captain’s chair on a mission he had no idea how to prepare for," Mitchell continued. "It’s hard enough trying to remember names and where the bathroom is those first few days. Getting into a battle with the Goa’uld right off the bat isn’t something I’d wish on anyone."

Again, the general smiled. "You did just fine."

Mitchell’s cheeks reddened slightly. "Wasn’t much of a battle. We fired off a few shots, General O’Neill blew up Ba’al’s ha’tak, and we bugged out. But I’d had a couple of hours to watch what was happening. I’d already planned out my strategy, if it had been needed. Sir, I…we’re…not saying that Colonel Johnson can’t handle the job. But we figure he needs a few more hours to wrap his mind around the fact that he’s in command of a spaceship, and that he’s at war with aliens bent on destroying humanity."

The general stood to his feet…the two officers immediately came to attention. "I understand what you’re saying. During our discussion, Colonel Johnson admitted he’s feeling ‘out of his depth’."

"Welcome to the SGC," Mitchell muttered under his breath, not intending for his commanding officer to hear the comment.

Hammond chuckled. "Very true, Colonel." He took a deep breath. "I believe you have a valid point about leaving a lone ship out there, considering what we just managed to accomplish."

"Sir, if I may," Colonel Ronson said.

"Go ahead," Hammond nodded.

"Mitchell may have only fired off a few shots, as he put it, but he’s witnessed a battle. He knows what to expect. I suggest that he has the experience to be of more help to Colonel Simpson that I could be."

"I agree." Hammond turned to look at Mitchell. "Son, your flying record is a major part of why I chose you for your position. You’ve got good instincts. Get out there, and make sure our new ship doesn’t get destroyed on its maiden voyage."

Mitchell stood tall, saluted smartly. "Yes, sir."

"I want you en route as soon as possible. Send a message to Colonel Simpson that you’re on the way."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

The two ships’ captains saluted once more, then hurried out of the office. Hammond dropped down into his chair. The possible problem that the two men had brought to him had already been toying at the edges of his thoughts. His problem, as he saw it, was which ship actually had battle experience…enough to be able to help, and most likely protect the Odyssey. Putting two ships in harm’s way was difficult enough to contemplate. Having a totally green captain on a new ship, and sending a second ship with little more experience than the first was a combination that made him nervous at best. Scared him to death at worst.

Mitchell was the best choice for the job. Even a little experience was better than none at all. And that young man had already proven to be a quick learner and even faster thinker.

Hammond looked at the clock. Not quite lunchtime. He picked up the phone, deciding to take his wife to lunch. Beth was always willing to listen to his concerns. She always had a few words of good advice as well.

"General Hammond to the control room," Walter’s voice echoed above him.

He hurried down the circular stairs. "Walter?"

"It’s Colonel Mitchell, sir. He’s requesting permission to leave," the Staff Sergeant reported, slightly confused.

He patted his assistant’s shoulder, leaned over and activated the microphone. "Colonel Mitchell, permission granted. Good luck, son. Godspeed."

"Thank you, sir. Daedalus out," Mitchell’s voice echoed.

"Sir?" Walter asked.

"It’s all right, Walter. He’s leaving on my orders," Hammond said kindly.

The technician frowned slightly…there hadn’t been any communication with the ship…That’s what the ring activation was about! "Yes, sir."

"Walter, send a message to Mitchell. Tell him to keep us informed. I’d like reports every two hours."

"Yes, sir." Walter turned back to the microphone. "SGC to Daedalus."

"Daedalus here."

"General Hammond requests reports every two hours," Walter relayed.

"SGC, will do," Mitchell’s voice echoed in the room. "Will advise of arrival, and reports will be given every two hours."

"Thank you, Daedalus," Walter responded.

Hammond patted the man’s shoulder, then went back to his office.

Cam Mitchell sat back in his seat. "Comms, send a message to the Odyssey. Tell them we’re on our way."

"Yes, sir," the young communications officer nodded. She searched for and located the communication link she needed. "Odyssey, this is Daedalus. Be advised that we’re on our way to your location."

"How long will it take to get to them?" Cam asked.

"Not more than three minutes, sir."

"Good."

Two minutes and forty-nine seconds later, the communications speakers crackled. "Daedalus, this is Odyssey. We look forward to your arrival."

Cam frowned. "Comms, open the channel."

"Channel open, sir."

"Odyssey, this is Daedalus. Is everything all right?" He tapped his fingers impatiently against the arm of his chair, waiting for a response.

"Just a little bored, Daedalus. We’re hoping to remain bored," Colonel Simpson’s voice echoed through the bridge.

Cam began to laugh. "Comms open?"

"Yes, sir, still open."

"We’ll bring a card deck. Maybe we can start a game of poker." Cam grinned when his bridge crew began to chuckle.

"Bring your cash, I don’t take credit," was the response three minutes later.

"I’ll consider myself warned. Call out if you’re suddenly not bored," Cam said. "Daedalus out."

On the Odyssey, Rebecca Simpson smiled. Not only was her ship not going to be sitting here alone, making her feel very much like there was a huge target on her back…metaphorically…but Colonel Cam Mitchell had a very nice voice. He seemed to have a great sense of humor as well. She shook herself mentally. She was hanging in space, vulnerable to any Goa’uld ships that might choose to fly by. The premier team of the SGC was out there…somewhere. And most probably in trouble. She didn’t have time for swooning like a teenager over a sexy voice.

SG-1 was on the move again, Daniel noting that each of his teammates continued to watch him. His Wife, in particular. When he caught sight of her tugging her lower lip, he was barely able to keep from rolling his eyes. "Case?"

"Hmm?"

"What’s wrong?"

"Your limp is getting worse again," she replied immediately. She held up one hand. "Do not try to tell me your knee isn’t hurting."

"C’mere," he said gently. Held his arms open, pulled her close when she walked into his embrace. "In case you haven’t noticed, this ground is uneven as hell. It’s not so much that my knee hurts, I’m just trying to stay upright and not put too much pressure on my leg."

"Your knee is hurting," she insisted, her voice muffled as she pressed her face against his shoulder.

"Actually, it’s not hurting as badly as it was this morning. I think wrapping it helped," he told her.

"We should have done that last night."

He chuckled. "Last night we were too busy celebrating the fact that we’d escaped from Ba’al…again."

"Or at least his clone," Casey giggled.

"Hey, what’s up?" Jack asked, approaching the couple, a frown on his face.

"Daniel’s limp is worse," Casey said.

"No, it’s not. I’m just trying to keep from putting too much pressure on it. It’s feeling better than it did this morning. The more I keep the pressure off, the sooner it will completely heal," Daniel maintained.

"We should stop for the night," Jack decided.

"It’s barely mid-afternoon. Hell, we haven’t even had lunch yet," Daniel argued.

"We should still stop. We need to stay put until your knee is healed," Jack replied.

"That could take a couple of days," Daniel reminded him.

"So?"

"Jack, we’re prepared for a week. Any longer than that, and we’re in trouble," Daniel said quietly. "It might take an extra day or so for my knee to heal, but it will heal. We have to keep moving."

Pulling his cap from his head, beating his thigh with it in frustration, Jack heaved a sigh. He hated it when Daniel was right. Especially if Daniel being right meant that Daniel would wind up suffering. How the hell did that always seem to happen, anyway?

"How about we stop for lunch? I’ll take a couple more Ibuprofen…which I really don’t need," Daniel suggested, "and then we can try to make at least another mile or so before dark."

"Sure would be nice if we could find a road. Or a path. Or a deer trail. Or even a rabbit trail," Jack mused. "It would sure speed things up a bit."

Casey cocked her head sideways, not even aware that both men had moaned softly. "Ya know, I could just take a quick look and see what I can find," she said slowly, staring at something just beyond Jack’s shoulder.

"You want to do what?" Daniel asked, already moving into protective mode.

Teal’c and Sam had joined the three by this time. "What’s going on?" Sam asked.

"Daniel’s knee-" Casey started.

"Is just fine," Daniel interjected.

"We were discussing the need for a trail. Radar seems to think she can find one," Jack said.

"Well, I don’t know for sure that I can find one, but I can look," Casey explained. She looked up into the blue eyes she knew so well. "I won’t even be going near a Goa’uld," she said softly.

Daniel couldn’t help but chuckle. "I suppose it would be helpful if we could find a path, instead of stumbling through this forest."

Jack was shaking his head. "I dunno, Radar. Doesn’t seem that anyone has been on this planet in a very long time."

"Well, try hiking in the Cascade Mountains some time," she countered with a grin. "There are places in those mountains I’m betting haven’t seen a human in centuries. If ever!"

He couldn’t help but chuckle. "Okay…take a look. Just don’t be disappointed if you don’t find anything."

"I won’t," Casey promised. She wrapped her arms around Daniel’s neck. Snuggled closer when his arms locked around her waist. "Don’t let go," she whispered.

"Never," he whispered in reply.

She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Began to move through the steps to center herself…to focus her thoughts.

Daniel exchanged a worried glance with Jack. "Casey?"

The two men exchanged a weak grin.

Daniel jerked slightly at the sudden outburst. Before he could ask what was going on, she began to giggle.

The four people watching the seer intently burst into laughter.

"That’s great, Angel," Daniel said.

"Wish I’d have thought to do that before we started trekking through here," Casey grumbled. "That path leads right to the lake. We would have found it if we hadn’t been dealing with Jaffa."

"Well, at least we know it’s there," Jack grinned. He turned to Daniel. "We’ll have some lunch. Think you can make it for a couple of miles?"

"Not a problem," Daniel replied.

The team looked around for a place to settle for just a bit, long enough to eat. Relieved to know that their journey was about to become much easier.

Ba’al sat on his throne, watching the darkness of space through the windows of the pel’tak. He’d come here as soon as his healing had been completed in the sarcophagus. Those damned Tau’ri! That mik’ta shot me! The pain had been intense…so much so that for the first time in millennia he’d shoved the host forward to deal with the waves of nausea and the fiery agony. He refused to think about the few seconds the host had battled him when he’d taken control of the body once again.

His plan had been perfect. The clone had been programmed to begin attacks on specific Goa’uld in three months’ time. The attacks would continue until the clone was destroyed. How had the clone managed to survive? And how could he have taken control of a ship?

Jumping to his feet, Ba’al began to pace. He’d made certain that there was enough personality that the Jaffa would obey him. The few slaves and servants that he’d intended for the clone to have certainly weren’t a concern. But if the clone had the ship he feared was under his control…there were two Goa’uld on that ship. Scientists working on a project that would put control of the entire galaxy…and eventually the entire universe…into his hands. He didn’t need for those scientists to be killed – their knowledge and skills were too valuable to him at the moment. He certainly didn’t want them taken prisoner by another System Lord, they would tell all in heartbeat in order to save their own worthless lives. What he had discovered…what he was attempting…no, it was imperative that the information remained out of the hands of all other Goa’uld.

Carefully examining the faces of the Jaffa around him, he could sense their disquiet. The fact that Tau’ri – five, if his personal guard, those who had been found unconscious outside of his quarters were to be believed – had simply appeared on his ship, attacked him, and left. They hadn’t used the ring transport. Which meant that the Tau’ri had Asgard beaming technology. The little gray beings would never give such technology to a primitive race, especially not with the Protected Planets Treaty in place, the treaty to which Earth had been added. No doubt the humans had stolen it. How they’d managed to do so, and how they’d been able to figure out how to use the technology tickled at his brain. The Tau’ri were, he thought worriedly, far more advanced than any of the Goa’uld had realized.

He thought about the ‘message’ he’d received. It just didn’t make sense! Why would the Tau’ri risk capture, simply to tell him about his clone? And just how had the Tau’ri learned of his clone? Wouldn’t it make more sense to allow the clone to continue to attack the minor System Lords? And…for that matter, he’d received no reports of attacks. None.

With more questions than answers, Ba’al threw himself back onto his throne. If the clone was alive, why wasn’t he attacking as he’d been programmed to do? If the clone was alive, what was he doing?

He started. He could feel the amusement…the glee…of the host. For centuries the man had remained silent. Not until the Tau’ri had begun irritating him so frequently had the host stirred. ‘Silence,’ he demanded.

It was difficult to keep from shouting out loud. ‘SILENCE!’

‘The Tau’ri are not that smart,’ he smirked silently.

He felt the room begin to spin. If the Tau’ri had approached the clone – told him who…what…he really was – how would the clone respond?

"SILENCE!" Ba’al roared, on his feet, hands clenched. He barely noticed that the Jaffa around him jumped in surprise. Nor did he notice the confused glances they exchanged.

If the clone was out there, as long as he remained out of sight none of the other System Lords would know if his existence. But if he were to actively seek out his ship…was there the possibility the clone would go so far as to contact other Goa’uld, to learn if they’d heard or seen this ‘imposter’?

Once again Ba’al found his plans scattered in pieces around him, shattered like the most delicate crystal. The damned Tau’ri had blown up his ship…the other System Lords had attacked, but those infernal humans had somehow managed to ring onto his ship, and blew it up. He didn’t have the details, but he knew enough to know what had happened. They destroyed the clone! All of my work…destroyed! he raged silently

Apparently not. The host began to laugh. Ba’al, you should take Casey Jackson’s advice. Find a far galaxy and hide there.

Fleeing from the pel’tak, Ba’al managed to make it to the elevator that would take him to his quarters. He was moving so quickly that the doors of the lift closed before his personal guard could gain entrance. He leaned against the wall, put both fists against his temples. He needed to gather his fleet. All of his fleet. He needed to be ready for any attacks that might come. There wasn’t a System Lord in the galaxy that could stand against his entire fleet. He needed to get to Praxyon at once. He lifted his arm, activating the communication on the wide gold band…gave the order. Felt the ship slip into hyperdrive.

He stood in the doorway of his quarters. Stared in at the bed. The blood was gone. Everything was in place. No sign of his attack remained. Yet, every moment of that peculiar encounter remained vivid in his memory. He could remember every word. The look on the man’s face as he read from that scrap of paper. The odd smell that always accompanied the use of a Tau’ri weapon. The pain…

Walking into the room, he dropped down onto the loveseat. He let his hand move over the silk brocade. Casey had slept here, when she’d been so angry at him…

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall behind him. How many System Lords had the Tau’ri destroyed? Ba’al began to wonder if those Goa’uld had felt the same sense of panic that was washing over him in waves…just before the Tau’ri killed them.

If the other System Lords were made aware of his plans, the battles he would face would weaken him considerably. He would go to Praxyon. No other knew about the planet, he had hidden it well. And from there he would monitor what was happening among the other System Lords. When they had destroyed the clone…if he was truly alive…he would then attack. Just as he had planned. He gave a grim smile. "I am much ‘smarter’ than you think, Beloved," he growled. "My plans have not been thwarted yet."

The sun was dipping lower on the horizon. In spite of the fact that Daniel was still limping, the team had pushed to get to the path that Casey had discovered. They would, Jack promised, sleep in come morning. A path directly to the Stargate would no doubt cut their expected stay on the planet by at least a day.

They heard the water before they could see it. Coming around two exceptionally large trees, they found themselves on the bank of a river. The water was flowing fast enough that it splashed and danced over the boulders and stones that made up the riverbed.

"Uh…Radar? You didn’t happen to see any way over this thing, did you?" Jack asked, watching as the water turned to white water not more than fifty feet downstream from them.

Casey frowned. "I didn’t even see this." She looked up, noted that the canopy of trees seemed to lean out over the river. "I saw a really narrow opening in all the trees. That’s where the path is." She pointed upward. "All that prevented me from seeing this."

Jack followed her finger with his eyes. Branches as thick as most tree trunks on Earth reached out toward one another. It was difficult to see the sky, even above the water. "Well, it’s not very wide," he said, trying to force a bit of optimism into his voice.

Head down, berating herself for not taking the time to carefully and fully examine the terrain around the path…particularly when such a search would have revealed the river they had to cross…Casey tugged on her lip. When would she stop screwing up?

Daniel watched her for a moment. Shook his head. Walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "Unless you took the time to ‘walk’ here and back to where we were, you never would have seen this river," he said quietly.

"But I should have done just that!"

"Angel, you found a path straight to the Stargate. And, in point of fact, we’ve found water. Now, does that path happen to run in the same direction as this river?"

She looked up at him quizzically. "Yes. Why?"

Daniel grinned. "Because if what I think is true is really true, that path follows this river, and we’ll have water for bathing every morning."

"Only if it’s moving slower than that," Casey said drolly, pointing over her shoulder at the quickly moving water.

"I say we just follow this river a bit," Daniel said. "Bet we’ll find a place to cross upstream."

"I agree," Jack said. His comment proof that he’d been listening to the conversation.

"So do I," Sam added quietly, offering the seer a warm smile.

"I, too, believe we will find a way to cross," Teal’c said.

Casey gave a small smile. "I still screwed up."

Jack shook his head. "No, you did not. Besides, what fun would life be without surprises?"

"Well, at least this isn’t a bad surprise," Casey allowed.

"Let’s see what’s up this way," Jack said. He began to lead the team up the river, staying as close to the bank as possible. They hadn’t gone far when they realized that a small waterfall was feeding the river. And behind it was a wide, placid expanse of blue water.

"Oh, that’s just beautiful," Sam sighed as she gazed from one side to the other of what appeared to be a lake.

"That it is," Jack agreed.

The team stood on the bank, drinking in the scenic view, when a splash caught their attention.

"Fish!" Jack crowed with delight. "Campers, we’re gonna have fish for dinner!"

"We still have to figure out how to get to that path," Daniel said. "Walking around this lake probably isn’t going to be an option."

"We’ll figure that out later," Jack insisted. "Let’s find a place to set up camp, and then we’ll start fishing."

Teal’c had wandered farther up the bank. "O’Neill."

In spite of the calm voice, Jack knew in an instant that the Jaffa had discovered something. "What’d ya find, Rocco?"

Just behind the falls, where the river began its journey from the mouth of the lake, was a narrow, wooden bridge.

"I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried," Jack admitted, staring at the structure.

Daniel was shaking his head. "If there were people here, the Goa’uld would have noted that on their map. If they note a Stargate, then they’ve investigated enough to know whether or not there are potential slaves or hosts nearby."

"Not always, Daniel Jackson. If the Chappa’ai was discovered by nothing more than a scouting party flying overhead, and any village is within the forest, they would not have been aware of that village."

"If there aren’t people nearby, that bridge is very, very old," Sam said, adding her thoughts to the conversation.

Two more fish jumped, both of them at least eighteen inches long…perhaps longer.

Casey grinned. "We can examine the bridge in the morning. It would probably be better to do that, we’re starting to lose light, and if Jack doesn’t get to fish soon, he’s gonna explode.

"Good point, Angel," Daniel chuckled.

Jack was already searching out saplings that could be turned into fishing poles. And, the teammates agreed, fresh fish cooked over an open fire beat an MRE any time.

In not more than fifteen minutes, SG-1 was sitting on the bank of the lake, lines in the water, waiting for the fish that continued to jump to take the bait of the fat, juicy worms that had been discovered in the rich soil.

Five minutes after that, Jack was pulling a fish in, Daniel reaching out to help him. Both men were leaning over the water, their feet sliding in the mud of the bank. The fish jerked, flipped up out of the water, jerked again…

Daniel stepped back, wrapped one arm around Jack’s waist, and leaned toward the bank. Teal’c reached out and grabbed Daniel’s free arm. Jack continued to fight the fish…

"Back up, back up, back up," Jack panted. Daniel and Teal’c pulled him backwards. The fish was still jerking…but was getting closer to the bank.

Heaving with all his might, Jack yanked on the pole, and flung the fish toward the trees behind them. It was a miracle that the flopping, fighting fish hadn’t hit one of the giants. Instead, it landed in the grass.

"Look at the size of that baby!" Jack gloated.

"One more of those, and we’ll have enough for all of us," Casey exclaimed.

"Help!"

All eyes went to Sam, who was in a battle of her own. And if their eyes weren’t playing tricks on them, the fish on her line was every bit as big as the one Jack had landed.

Racing to her side, Jack put his arms around her. "Back up, honey. I’ve got ya."

Sam began to step backwards, struggling to keep the pole in her hands. Jack’s hands covered hers.

"Danny, need your help," Jack grunted as this fish began to perform gymnastics that its mate on the shore hadn’t attempted.

Daniel grabbed Jack around the waist. "Gotcha. Keep stepping back."

Two steps…three steps…four steps…

"Okay, Sam, we gotta yank him out of there. Ready?"

"Yep."

"One…two…three!"

This fish went flying higher…and harder…and smacked into the trunk of the tree directly behind them. The fish appeared stunned, then began to flop wildly on the grass.

Jack dropped onto his butt in the grass, grinning from ear to ear. "We gotta make sure we get the address for this planet. I’d like to come back here with the right fishing equipment to deal with these bad boys."

Sam had dropped to the grass next to her husband. "That was some workout!"

"Yeah, those things must weigh at least ten pounds each," Jack agreed.

"Well, now that we have dinner, don’t you think we should cook it?" Casey asked.

"Probably a good idea." The sun chose that moment to peek through the trees, making Jack squint up at Daniel. "Ready to clean a fish?"

"I dunno…if those things get near water, we could lose them," Daniel replied.

"We’ll gut ‘em up here. We’ll rinse them when they’re gutted," Jack said.

"Good enough," Daniel agreed.

"And on that note, I’m going to go find the little girl’s room," Casey announced. Her teammates chuckled, knowing that the tender-hearted seer wouldn’t be comfortable watching the fish being cleaned.

"I’ll go with you," Sam said, reaching for her pack.

"Teal’c, see if you can find a good place just inside this copse of trees to set up camp. We can put the fire down here on the bank, but we’ll put the tents closer to the trees," Jack said. "Better protection than being here on the shore."

Teal’c nodded, and headed straight into the group of trees behind them. Not more than four feet in, he found that the trees formed a circle around a small, grassy area. It would be just large enough for the tents. He glanced upward, sending up a silent prayer of gratitude. It seemed that the true gods were watching out for SG-1. Everything on the mission had gone according to plan. He smiled when he thought of Casey, and her description of the fight she had engaged in, trying to keep Ba’al from leaving his quarters. Perhaps not one hundred percent to plan, but all things considered, from their arrival on the clone’s ship to their escape, to Casey locating an actual path for them to follow to the Stargate, the gods had been generous. Just as he turned to report his discovery to his teammates, his eyes were pulled to what appeared to be bright red fruit on a nearby plant. He examined them carefully. Pulled his knife from its sheath and sliced one open. Sniffed it, then cautiously tasted it. Then grinned from ear to ear.

Casey found a wide bush just a couple of feet from a large tree. It was dwarfed by the majority of the trees around it, but it was the perfect place for a bit of privacy to answer nature’s call. "Sam, I found a great spot."

Sam trekked over to where the seer stood. "Perfect."

"I hope you don’t need to go really bad, because if I don’t go now, I’m gonna have to wash my clothes," Casey said.

"Have at it, girlfriend. I can wait. Just not too long!" Sam teased.

"Ya know," Casey said, as she dug a small, but deep hole, "I was afraid the whole mission was going tits up when we got on that ship and the alarms were already going off."

"Me, too," Sam admitted. "It wasn’t exactly the way we planned it, but it all turned out pretty well. At least so far."

"Yep. Which means something is going to go tits up…or our next mission is going to be a nightmare…one or the other," Casey sighed.

"As much as I’d like to argue with you, I think you’re right. Things have just gone too smoothly so far."

Casey was silent for a moment. Then began to laugh. "Only we could consider what we’ve been through as a ‘smooth’ ride."

Sam began to chuckle as well. "Sometimes, when I stop to think what we’ve been through as a team, I wonder how we can all still be sane. Or alive, even!"

"I hear that." Casey stepped out from behind the bush. "Much better. Your turn."

"So, how bad was it really, when you were in Ba’al’s quarters?" Sam asked softly.

"It really was going pretty well until he realized that you, Jack, and Teal’c were somewhere on his ship. He was livid." Casey paused, and frowned. "I’ve seen Ba’al angry. But this…this went beyond that. Crazed. He was damned near crazed."

Sam shuddered. "If we hadn’t been there when he opened that door…" Her voice faded.

"It could have been very, very ugly," Casey said, her voice not more than a whisper.

"Do you think that will affect what he does now?"

"I would think so. I think part of his anger was a healthy dose of fear. Fear that maybe I was telling him the truth, that he really is just a clone. I think his rage will be against Ba’al…the real one. For the simple fact that the real Ba’al is the reason the clone is in the situation he’s in." Casey took a deep breath. "It’s very possible that the clone is angry enough, and will strike hard enough, that he’ll take out the real Ba’al."

"And that will be surreal," Sam said, fastening her belt.

"Yes, it will be. Hey, if that happens, how will we know when the clone drops dead?"

Sam chuckled. "I’m sure there will be a rebel or two that will be able to tell us. Possibly even a Tok’ra spy or two."

"I wonder if Taseem went back to Ba’al’s ship. The real one, I mean," Casey wondered. "I sure hope he can make an escape before Ba’al either discovers him, or gets his ass into some really heated battles."

"I don’t know. Guess we’ll find out eventually," Sam replied. "I heard Jack tell Teal’c to find a place for our tents…let’s go see what he found."

The fire was burning brightly; Teal’c had managed to find two smaller logs, and placed them near the fire, giving the teammates a place to sit. Jack had created a spit, using several sticks he’d located, and tied together using fishing line. The fish had been cut into fillets, and those fillets were cooking nicely above the fire.

"Oh, that’s starting to smell good," Sam murmured. She settled down beside her husband.

Casey sat down beside Daniel, cuddled close to his side.

"Check this out," Jack said, handing two tomatoes to his wife.

She looked at the red fruit, and then looked over at him. "No way!"

"Yep. Teal’c found three plants back there just covered with the things. What we don’t eat tonight, we’ll carry with us."

"This just might be paradise," Casey sighed. "I suggest we keep our eyes peeled for a long, slithery type snake that talks."

Daniel laughed. "Probably not a bad idea."

Sam caught Casey’s eye. "Well…what do you think?"

"My guess is the bridge is either going to be too old to go across, or we’ll think it’s okay and wind up dumped halfway through…or some other disaster is about to descend on us," Casey responded.

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, we had the same conversation."

"Maybe," Casey said, accepting the slice of tomato Daniel had cut for her, "just maybe, we’ll get through this whole mission without anything going seriously tits up. It would be a first for us…but hey, miracles happen, right?"

"Or maybe," Daniel said, "we’ll get a break now, because the little Goa’uld war we started is going to be a royal pain in our ass."

Jack pointed at Daniel. "The winner," he announced.

"Well, a little inconvenience is worth it to be able to pop those damned snakes off," Casey muttered.

"Might be more than just a little inconvenience, Radar," Jack warned.

"Better to get rid of those damned monsters while we can, no matter how difficult it might seem at the moment," Casey countered.

"Agreed," Jack nodded. "We’ll worry about the Goa’uld when we get home. For now, let’s eat our dinner, get some sleep, and see what tomorrow brings."

The soft sound of the water lapping against the shore not more than a few feet away, the warmth of the fire, and the fresh fish and tomatoes had the team in a mellow, happy mood. They would embrace the peace and quiet, and not worry about what they might yet have to face.

<<Previous  | Story Intro | Return to Stories | Next >>