The Mirror Cracked - Part 1
Late June 2109
Summary: Missing persons...?
WARNINGS: Strong language -
hello, it's still a military base. |
| As Maxine, J and Radu made their way back to the Oplostasio, J contacted up the rest of the team and ordered them to meet up there, or rather, at the 'Opli-what's-it.' Kern arrived a good twenty minutes after everyone else, which was worrying. As someone famous had once said - more or less - to lose one team member may be regarded as a misfortune, to lose two looks like carelessness... "What kept ya, Kern?" J asked when he finally appeared. "I can't raise Captain Beck." "No, you can't," J agreed. "There's a good rea-- well, not a good one, but there is a reason. Captain Beck now belongs to a Spartan called... Dr. Pepperday?" Maxine wasn't in the mood for levity this time and said. "Leonidas." "What?" Kern gasped. "In spite of everything we said, Captain Beck helped himself to something that didn't belong to him and neglected to pay for it, so they sold him on the slave market." "And you just-- you just let this happen?" Kern exclaimed horrified. "No. I didn't 'just let it happen.' I know I said we'd disown him, but I didn't - and nearly ended up on the catwalk with him as a result. There wasn't anything I could've done that I didn't do." "Couldn't you have bought him? You had the money from the sale of those other two-- those two thieves." "It doesn't work like that," Maxine said. "After the victim's been given compensation for loss or damage, the rest goes towards paying the wages of the people who work here. Captain Beck sold for 42 golds. We didn't have a tenth of that amount. Look." Maxine pulled out the green velvet pouch and tipped the remaining coins into her hand. "And this belongs to the SGC." Kern's face fell. "So he's really gone then?" he said dolefully. "Well, we know where he's been taken - sort of," J said. "If we could put together enough money, maybe we can buy him back, but I can't in all honesty say that it's likely to happen anytime soon. I'm sorry you lost your friend." "Yeah," Kern sniffed. The arrival of SG-24 minus one caused some consternation when the team trooped back through the 'Gate. J glowered around. "Captain Beck is not dead or injured, just detained - voluntarily detained," he announced as he stalked down the ramp towards General Bradfield carrying Beck's Calico. He handed the weapons off to the nearest SFs. "Sorry, sir," he sighed as he reached the general. "He stole something, didn't he?" Bradfield said bluntly. J nodded. "I did everything I could, even though I'd warned him not to expect any help if he did steal. It still goes against the grain to have to leave him like that even so." "I know, son. I think we'll defer the debriefing until tomorrow. Let the dust settle a little." "Thank you, sir. Could I have a word with you about another matter?" "Certainly. Come on up to my office." "Now, what's the problem, Major?" Bradfield asked as he closed the door. "Not really a problem as such. While we were keeping tabs on the man that - er - 'bought' Captain Beck, we got talking to a couple of old guys. They heard us talking among ourselves and spoke to us in English - well, American. We think they may belong to one of the SG teams that went missing after the Great Disaster. They call themselves Noah and Jethro though they don't know if those are their real names as they seem to have lost their memories." "And you'd like me to check the records to see if there's a match?" Bradfield went over to his filing cabinet and pulled out a pile of old files. He passed some to J and started going through the others. It didn't take long. There was a Lt. Noah Baxter, aged nineteen when he went missing from SG-4, and a Lt. Jethro Hughes, a year older, who'd been a member of SG-9. "It has to be them, doesn't it, sir?" "Not necessarily, but it seems highly likely. Well done, Major," Bradfield smiled. J grimaced wryly. "Thank you, sir. At least we may have gotten something positive out of the mission." J went up to the infirmary for the usual post-mission medical. He and the rest of the team were processed quickly. Dr. Flint was by far the most adept member of the medical staff, and as she wasn't many people's first choice, they were all cleared and out before Dr. Dawson had even started with Kern. J hung around and waited for him. He was concerned about his team member. The lanky lieutenant wasn't really much of a mixer unless he was tagging along after Beck. J couldn't remember seeing him with anyone much. He'd been fairly close to Beck, who'd kept a casual eye out for him, but that was about it. The loss of Beck must've hit him fairly hard and J couldn't help feeling sorry for him in consequence. Dawson didn't take long once Kern reached him; his check-up was perfunctory in the extreme, and J would've willing put good money on a bet that Kern hadn't mentioned the loss of Beck - nor been asked if there was anything troubling him. Kern wandered towards the door, head down. He didn't respond as J fell into step beside him; probably hadn't even noticed. "Where're you headed now?" J asked quietly. Kern's head shot up in surprise. "Dunno. Home, I guess," he said dully. J knew he lived with his mother in the Springs - was an only child. That probably explained why he didn't mix much - wasn't socially proficient. Probably also explained why he'd fallen under Beck's influence. Maybe, with a little encouragement, he might - well, blossom didn't seem the right word, but he couldn't off-hand think of anything else. "Care to go for a drink first?" "Oh? Oh, I don't know." "Needn't be alcoholic. Coffee if you'd rather. We could talk. Get to know each other better." "Aw, I don't think it would be a good idea." "Why not?" "You and the others all get on so well. I'd just be like a spare leg, gettin' in the way." This was true. Kern could never be part of their little gang. That made J feel a little guilty and, surprisingly, sad for him too. But the situation had changed now. Maybe they could include him a little more? He put a comradely arm on Kern's shoulder. "Well, if you change your mind, the offer still stands - for a drink or a chat. 'Kay?" Kern sniffed. "Yeah... but I think I'd better be getting home. No offence? And - thank you sir." The meeting at Ash's pad that evening was subdued. They'd needed to lose Beck, but now they had, there was no sense of triumph or delight. Yes, it had been totally his own fault but still, the means of it was certainly not what they would've chosen. On the plus side, he was still alive - probably. For how long under the Spartans was a moot point. The mood lightened when J asked Maxine about her shopping. Under the pretext of making another pot of coffee, she went into the little kitchen. While it was brewing, she pulled the two parcels out from inside her T-shirt. A bulky jacket had concealed the slight lumpiness of her midriff. The present for Ash, she left on the kitchen counter. She then shook out the fine silky material, held it up in front of her, sidled into the living room and stood at the back of the room. And waited... Eventually, the rest realized that the coffee hadn't arrived yet and Theo yelled out a query about whether she'd gone through the 'Gate for it. When there was no response, he went into the kitchen. Empty kitchen. Panic! He shot back into the living room exclaiming, "She's gone!" "What?" Ash demanded. "How could she? She'd have to come through here to get out." "Unless she climbed through the window?" Luc suggested. "From the third floor?" Ash said. "And why would she do that anyway?" Theo had another bad thought. "Could she have been - well, beamed out?" "Why? Who? How?" Luc asked. There was a long baffled silence, by which time, Maxine's arms were getting tired of holding up the material. She let go, saying airily, "Looking for me?" With four startled pairs of eyes on her, she double up, cackling. "God! Scare us all to death, why don't you?" J grumbled. "Hang on. How did you do that?" "Oh, just crawled through and hid behind the couch, ya know?" J's scowl deepened. "Oh, you're no fun any more!" Maxine grinned, and bent down to pick up the material - by feel, since she couldn't see it. She dropped it over J's head, and he, or at least the part covered by the material, disappeared. "Well, that's an improvement!" Luc chuckled. J pulled it off his head. "Interesting. It's like looking through gauze. So this was what you squandered our money on?" "Part of it," Maxine said, returning to the kitchen for her other purchase. "I thought it would be nice to bring a souvenir back for Ash," she said, handing him the package. "For me?" Ash squeaked. He squeaked even louder as he opened it and saw the contents. "Wow! Looks like a lot of memory here. Thank you so much," he said, getting up and giving her a hug." "I've no idea what they are or what they do - or what language they're in, though the guy I bought them from spoke some sort of English." "Right. I'll be careful. I've an old computer here that I try things out on, then I'm not going to wreck anything I shouldn't." "Just try not to cause a city wide power-outage!" J said grumpily. He took in Maxine's look of chagrin, and smiled. "It's ok. You did good." "I thought we could cut up the camouflage material and make bags to hide the zats," she said. "Sure we can't make better use of it?" The debriefing at 0900 the following morning went pretty much as expected, except that, as yet, no one had been imposed on SG-24 to fill the boots of Captain Beck. They all hoped that this would not be happening any time soon, but no one would be willing to risk any money on it. As they all filed out, General Bradfield passed on to Maxine another summons to WPX. This time, it was an afternoon meeting, scheduled for 1530 that day. Her heart sank, though looking on the marginally brighter side, she didn't have to not-sleep on it. This was just as well, as she anticipated a pretty rocky ride this time. After a brief visit to the commissary for 'mock-a-coffee,' with the team, she went straight over to her office in the Arlington Building. They hadn't talked much as J had dragged Kern along for some reason, so she figured the best thing to do would be to put the whole thing out of her mind by concentrating on her work. As she sat down at her desk, she noticed a new document sitting on top of her in-tray. Not that this was unusual in itself, but it was on a pale blue official report form. She took it out, looked at it and soon spotted the key that had been used. She translated the first couple of lines, writing them down on a yellow notepad, then stopped, wrinkling her nose in puzzlement. The original text was in Romanian, which would have been enough to make it unreadable to most people, yet it had been encrypted. Why? She read those first two lines again: "Use Dragomir. Tell him to eliminate the anticatod as soon as possible." Anticatod? Anti-cathode? That made no sense. Target? More likely. She read on: 'Then destroy any remains. There must be no chance of him returning.' There was something about this that gave her a bad feeling. It seemed like a plan for an assassination - a foreign leader perhaps? That should be very highly classified - way above her level, which was pretty high these days, but still... Most of the assignments she had were for fairly small stuff. Maybe it had come to her by accident? If so, it was fortunate that she never put any pencil marks on the original. Original. Hm. She went over to the crotchety copier and ran off a copy. This she folded in half and slipped it in between pages 204 and 205 of her Latin Dictionary. Few persons were likely to open that by chance if they were looking for an interesting read to pass the time if she wasn't there. Then she returned the sheet of blue paper to its former position in her in-tray and shredded the page from her notepad. She pulled out the current document she was working on and put everything else out of her mind. At midday, she locked her office and went to the Arlington commissary for lunch. The food was much better there. She hadn't really gotten to know anyone there yet, apart from Sergeant Gayle so she just settled in a paranoid corner and watched the world go by. There were one or two faces she recognized but couldn't put names to. The rest were strangers. When she returned to her office, the first thing she noticed was that the blue page had gone. She checked her Latin dictionary and found the copy still there. Curiosity piqued, she checked the next couple of lines: 'Instruct Dragomir to tell the rest that the address is wrong and to bring them back. He is to go to GB who will give them the correct one.' There wasn't time to translate the whole thing and she didn't want to get caught with it, so she put it back in its hiding place and decided to carry on with the regular stuff until Sergeant Gayle came for her. Except it wasn't Sergeant Gayle this time. Presumably the shift had changed. The new guy was about ten years older and a hundred times less sociable. He didn't even give his name. The horse was fractious too. Hardly surprising judging by the way the driver was hauling on the poor thing's reins. It angered Maxine but she didn't think complaints from her about ill-treating dumb animals would cut any ice with this guy - probably just make things worse. So she buttoned her lip. Unsurprisingly, he didn't assist her to alight from the trap. Not that she needed it, but it would've been nice. Having delivered her to the blue room, he left, closing the door with a sharp snap. There was no coffee or cookies. The President kept her waiting for a good twenty minutes which did nothing for her nerves. He strode into the room, gave her a stiff little smile and didn't offer her his hand. "Dr. Pepperday," he began with a curt nod. "I believe that, last time we met, you assured me that Major Mitchell's stated aim was to avoid losing men on missions." "Yes sir." "Not working too well, is it?" "I presume you are referring to Captain Peter Beck," Maxine stated. "I am indeed. Don't you think you should have brought back Captain Beck somehow?" Trying not to let her irritation show, Maxine continued, "Had it been possible, yes. It was not - no more possible than a man out at sea trying to stop a man from jumping off a high cliff. At the outset, it was made transparently plain to Captain Beck what the five simple rules of the Agora are, and also what the penalty is for breaking any of them, yet he still went ahead and broke one. Deliberately. Just to show he was smarter than the rest of us and the Agora's police. Proved to all concerned, including himself that he wasn't as smart as he thought he was. When someone deliberately flouts a law like that, knowing full well the consequences of so doing, it leaves his friends very little scope to extricate him from the mess he's made for himself without putting more people in danger. Indeed, Major Mitchell came very close to joining Captain Beck as a result of his attempts to get the authorities to overturn their verdict." "Could Major Mitchell not have bought Captain Beck at the slave market?" "No sir, although, on the plus side, we know where he is and may at some time be able to buy him back." "Yet Major Mitchell couldn't buy him at the time?" "No sir." "Why was that?" "We didn't have enough money." "I understood that you were given the proceeds of the sale of the thieves who tried to steal our property." "I'm afraid you were misinformed about that, sir," Maxine said, wondering just who had informed him. She explained the system and told him that she'd taken the small change to chemistry lab for analysis - if he would like to check the amount. She naturally didn't mention the four gold pieces that J had taken charge of. None of them wanted to explain that. Warren chuckled. "I'm not questioning your honesty, Dr. Pepperday." Maxine winced inwardly. So much for her rep. of having negotiable morals. "That's good. I don't cheat my employer. It's not in my interest to do so," she responded. The twitch at the corner of Warren's mouth suggested she might have covered the gaff. She had to choke back her anger at his next question though, in much the same way the driver had hauled in the reins of the horse. "You had one of your slaves with you. Could you not have sold him?" Was he toying with her? Back to the bullshit then. "I did indeed consider that option. However, although he has abilities that are of value to me and to the SGC, it was unlikely that potential buyers would value them equally highly. The average sale price for a teenage slave was around fifteen gold pieces, give or take, so a skinny boy with a talent not required by a buyer would certainly not fetch enough to buy Captain Beck, a powerfully built and trained soldier who was knocked down at 42 golds." "That much?" Warren sounded impressed. "Yes sir, so you see, our hands were tied. There was no way we could get him back with jeopardizing more team members. But - as I suggested earlier, if we could acquire some gold coins, or an equal weight of gold, it would be possible to mount a mission to the world he was taken to and buy him back later on," Maxine finished bracingly. "Ye-es, well, let's not throw our money away, hm?" Warren commented then turned on his heel and walked out. Just what happened there? Maxine wondered, floored by Warren's parting remark. She'd found the whole interview both unnerving and demoralizing, but didn't think she could've done any better under the circumstances. Now, she just wanted to get back to her office and a hot shower. By the time she'd been kept waiting for half an hour, she figured she could probably get back to the Arlington Building quicker if she walked. She knew the way perfectly well by now. It wasn't as if there were any junctions that required choices to be made anyway. She stepped outside the new White House and found the groom still holding the horse's reins. She gave him a smile and asked where the driver was. "I do not know, ma'am," was the response. He scowled. "He is probably making free with the women in the staff room." She raised an eyebrow at that. Didn't fancy the idea of the big oaf making 'romantic overtures' to her... "Really? And when is he likely to return from these amatory adventures?" "I do not know, ma'am." Maxine gave an exasperated growl. "Then perhaps you could go and fetch him. Now would do..." "I am afraid I cannot do that, ma'am. I have to hold the horse." "Then I'll walk," she said, turning away towards the main gate. "They won't let you pass without a-- pass." "Fine! Then I'll hold the horse while you fetch the driver." "I cannot do that, ma'am--" "Aagghh! Give me strength! Right, then tell me where the staff room is and I'll fetch him myself." The groom looked at her in slack-jawed horror. "And don't give me any more excuses." He swallowed, wearing the look of a man who knows his nuts are between a rock and a hard place and are going to get crunched one way or another. The question was, by whom? Sergeant Quinney was a vicious bastard, but wasn't here. The scary redhead, on the hand, was here and was building up a head of steam. But Ellika had said she was kind... He made up his mind and gave Maxine directions, ending with, "Please - do not tell Sergeant Quinney that it was me who told you." Maxine smiled. "Of course not. I've already got his number. And thank you." The groom breathed again, nuts intact so far. Maxine went round to the back of the House, in through the third door along, first right, across the kitchen and into the staff room where an unlovely sight met her eyes - Sergeant Quinney's hairy butt. The man had his pants round his knees and was leaning over someone huddled in the corner. He didn't notice Maxine's arrival. "Come on, what's your problem, kid? I bet you suck Gayle's dick every time he comes to call, so you can damn' well suck mine." This was answered by a terrified whimper. The voice sounded familiar. Maxine lost what had become a very fragile grip on her temper. She looked around for a weapon. There were the remains of lunch on the central table. She picked up a fork walked quietly up behind him, and rammed it into Quinney's bare buttock. Very hard! Pain and surprise jerked him upright. With an enraged roar, he spun round on his attacker, yanking the fork out of her hand. It flew across the room taking some of his flesh with it. Maxine backed off, grabbing a steak knife off a plate. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he raged, advancing with menace. "I could ask you the same thing, 'cept I could see precisely what you were - up to." She waved the knife in the direction of his now flaccid dick. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't slice off your little Wiener. I mean, it's so small, you'd hardly miss it..." Quinney gave another roar. Lunged at her. Found himself bent over the table, wrist in a tight lock, arm twisted in a way it wasn't designed to go, face on a plate with the remains of someone's dinner. "You could have someone's eye out like that," came a suave voice from behind her. Maxine closed her eyes and grimaced. She released Quinney and turned to face President Warren. He'd been nearby and come to investigate the racket. "Just came to find my driver, sir," she said through gritted teeth. "He was very late. I remonstrated with him and he attacked me." Warren grinned. "Obviously not a very effective attack, Quinney." "No sir," the sergeant muttered, wiping the tomato sauce off his face and trying to pull up his pants. "Neat take-down, Dr. Pepperday. I'll send you a fresh driver. This one seems a little... rancid." He craned his neck to look around the burly sergeant at the shivering heap of misery in the corner. "And you can take that with you to add to your collection. She's been nothing but trouble from the get-go." With that, he was gone. Nobody moved for several seconds. Quinney was looking at Maxine with malevolent hatred. "I wouldn't try it," Maxine said coldly, sticking her little finger up and wiggling it, "or everyone's going to know..." "I'll find out where you live," he threatened. "Good luck with that!" she grinned back, then turned to the young maid. "Haide!" She said, holding out her hand. The girl stood up cautiously and edged around Quinney to her savior. Neither of them took their eyes off Quinney, and kept looking behind as they walked round to where the groom was still waiting. He looked surprised to see the maid. "What are you doing here, Ellika?" he asked the maid in Romanian. "I belong to her now," she beamed, looking up at Maxine. "Please - take care of the little one," he implored her, reverting to English. Maxine looked from one to the other and drew a sharp breath. "You're her father aren't you?" He bit his lip and nodded. "Don't worry, she'll be ok," she smiled as a young man came out of the east door. "Corporal Ingram, at your service, ma'am," he said saluting. His mouth was curved in a definite smirk, suggesting that, as bad news was wont to do, it had traveled fairly rapidly. He assisted Maxine into the trap with Ellika beside her. There wasn't really room for all three of them on the bench seat, so the corporal rode the horse rather than using the reins to guide it. The horse obviously appreciated the change as the ride back was much smoother. As they traveled back to the Arlington Building, Maxine conversed in a low voice with Ellika. She used Romanian, hoping that Ingram wasn't some sort of spy. "Has that nasty man bothered you before?" she asked. Ellika shook her head. "I never saw him before." Actually, she thought, Ellika could be a spy too. Was this a put-up job to insinuate her into Maxine's circle of friends? It bore thinking about. Or maybe someone wanted to get her into the SGC for some other reason? "I heard the man mention another one and suggested that he... abused you in the same way. Did that happen?" Ellika shook her head again. "No, no one ever mistreated me." It occurred to her that maybe Ellika was afraid that her new owner would reveal what she said. "I'm on your side," she said gently. I'm not trying to get you into trouble." Ellika focused her eyes on the back of Corporal Ingram. Did that mean she was afraid he'd overhear or that he'd abused her too? Clearly there was no point in questioning her further now, and not in her office either with its nasty little bug eavesdropping on their every word. Putting the talk and the shower on hold for the time being when they reached the Arlington Building, she took Ellika straight on to the SGC and up to Linguistics. She introduced her to the team and to Radu and Stefan, and asked them all to take care of her. As it was nearly time to pack up by now - if they wanted to catch the 1800 shift bus back to the Springs anyway - she went down to the gym where she knew J would be finishing his martial arts training duties. Luc and Theo were taking part. It was always a good idea to keep in practice at hand-to-hand combat. She'd already had her practice for today she thought, grinning to herself at the memory of Quinney's face when Warren arrived. As the rest of the combatants made a dash to be first for the showers - and hopefully the slightly warmer water, SG-24 wandered over to join Maxine. "How'd it go?" Luc asked. Maxine rolled her eyes. "I'm really not sure. Somewhere between brilliant and disastrous, and probably closer to the latter. Oh, and I've got another slave." "What?" J exclaimed rather predictably, provoking the equally predictable fiery response. "Oh, don't look like that, J! She was a 'gift' from Warren. I could hardly say no, and as she was about to get her faced fucked by this lout of a sergeant, I'm thinking she's probably safer here." "Um, sorry," J muttered, backing away from Maxine in termagant mode. He looked around at the stragglers leaving the gym. "You, er, might like to keep your voice down." Maxine bit her lip. "Sorry." "Pavlovian response, much," Luc grinned, then ran off yelling, "last one in the shower's an icicle!" "Oh, and we have a mission briefing at 0800 tomorrow," J yelled to Maxine as he hared off after the other two. "Firstly," Bradfield began, "we have the analysis results of the coins you brought back with you from the Agora. The gold coin was 24 carat gold, the silver were eighty per cent silver and twenty per cent gold and the others were ninety-five per cent copper and five per cent gold." "Any chance of replicating the coins, sir?" J asked. Kern perked up at that. "It's possible, Major. We would have to get the percentages exactly right or err on the side of gold if we can't. Whether President Warren would agree is another matter." Kern's shoulders sagged. Beck didn't deserve this dedicated allegiance, J thought. "Secondly," Bradfield continued, appearing not to notice Kern's distress, the President has asked that SG-24 undertake a mission to P4D-131. Apparently it looks like it's heading the way of Tyogya. President Warren seems to think that SG-24 is the best team to deal with such a situation and he has every confidence in Major Mitchell's ability to prevent a repetition of such a rebellion. Information on P4D-131 is in your folders." "Sir, I don't have one," Kern said. His look spoke of curiosity with a little relief on the side. "You'll be sitting this mission out, Lieutenant. I've had a word with Dr. Dawson and he's put you on compassionate leave for ten days. If you would like a therapy session - more if need be - he will arrange it for you," Bradfield said with a smile of understanding. "The rest of you will ship out at 0900 tomorrow." SG-24 , temporarily down to the desired foursome, was waiting in the 'Gate Room in good time. General Bradfield was watching from the observation room as the chevrons on the 'Gate lit up and locked and the event horizon surged outwards before settling into its usual placid surface. "Very well, SG-24, you are a go, and good luck!" Luc and Theo, taking point, were already at the top of the ramp when a clerical officer ran into the 'Gate Room, calling for Major Mitchell. She was out of breath so it seemed like she had an urgent message for him. There was no cause for alarm on P4D-131 at the present time, so J stopped and waved the rest of his team through. "You three go on ahead. I'll join you in a few minutes." On the other side of the wormhole, all was tranquil, though not entirely as expected. The 'Gate was in a clearing among tall coniferous trees, more reminiscent of British Columbia than the prairie states. The air was damp and slightly misty - not particularly suitable for agriculture. While they were awaiting J's arrival, they queried whether the 'Gate tech had keyed in the wrong co-ordinates. Maxine was just saying, "I have a bad feeling about this," when the wormhole collapsed. There was no sign of J. |
